Christmas aboard Aeolus, Orcas, and Jones Island

We are just returned from a special trip aboard the good ship Aeolus. Given some other travel plans and expenses associated with such, we decided not to do a traditional home Christmas this year as we fly out early tomorrow morning on the 26th. Instead, and since we are traveling to the Megalopolis of Los Angeles, we decided to get aboard Aeolus and make a special voyage to Jones Island for a wild bit of festivities.

It was wonderful.

We left Anacortes and our new slip at Cap Sante at 9:30 on the 24th. It was calm, and remarkably sunny. The journey out Guemes Channel is heavily tidal, and strong enough to be a significant help or hindrance. It ebbs going West and floods East. We had some help this morning with the ebb and then rode the eddies up the Cypress shoreline before hopping across toward Obstruction Pass. As we approached Blakely, eagle eyed Amy spotted a dorsal fin and sure enough, we had Orcas off the port side! A large adult, probably female, and a young calf. They were about 200 yards away and were having some fun, including a few leaps out of the water! What a spectacle. We took it as an omen for our first trip from Anacortes to Jones. It seems we always see special wildlife on any new trip.

Gorgeous clouding on Cypress Island

Reconnassaince yields discovery

The boys and I made the now easier trip to Aeolus this weekend for no particular reason other than my internal clock telling me it had been too long and the always present nagging desire in my gut to be on the boat, away, in the wilds. There were things to clean, things to fix, as always, but it was also just a chance to get away with my sons and enjoy the high quality time the boat provides.

When we got to Anacortes it was not yet as windy as had been forecast. As is often the case, the forecast was off by time or magnitude. Tough stuff to get right. I'm OK with that. The predicted 35 knot winds were a meek 10 until late in the day. So we got there during fairly calm conditions. I noticed right away that there was a problem.

Despite how complex our boats are, or houses, for that matter, we develop a very clear mental image of what "normal" looks like. It's uncanny. And unconscious. On Aeolus, I noticed a line laying in a place that it shouldn't. Then, I noticed that it had a frayed end. Then, I looked up and saw that my jib halyard wasn't there, and then gazing higher still, saw the remains of the halyard still hanging a few feet below the top of the mast.

"Well, crap!", the good father says.