Approaching Cape Flattery, the entrance to the Strait of Juan de Fuca.

Fair skies and an East wind gave us a gentle ride wing-and-wing as we traded our inland sea for the larger swells of the open ocean. We felt properly sent-off as a feisty celebration of dolphins cruised our wake, daring each other to pass beneath the boat at high speed.

Wade went forward to reef the main and trade genoa for staysail in preparation for night sailing as the earth rotated away from the sun and we sailed toward it. Cape Flattery drifted away on our wake,  into our memories.

Turning our gaze westward, we sailed west for 30 miles before turning southward. Seas were calm and the half moon just off our bow. Clear skies and a lunar trail laid down across the gentle swells made our first overnight sail a blessing.  Moonset, and the great dipper and Polaris made themselves known to us off our stern. For a few hours we were able to follow the distant tricolor of another southbound sailing boat that had left Port Angeles an hour before us, but they eventually vanished into the changling light. The wind changed its mind and dropped from 12 to 10 to 5 to 3 knots before finally laying down completely for the night.

The sails began flapping around 3 am; soon after,  S winds set in a day earlier than forecast, so we started the motor. As the southerly winds became stronger we changed plans and headed to Grey’s Harbor, a fisherman’s haven just north of the Columbia Bar, and a good place to rest while we waited for more favorable sailing. It took all day and a night of motoring, but we made good our effort to transit the entrance bar just following the flood.  Pelican Moon handled the rolly ride with dignity. We arrived at noon, settled the boat, refueled, and went to sleep.