It was July, and I was starting to feel claustrophobic. Surrounded by masked faces everywhere I went, switching sides of the street when I saw a neighbor coming, it seemed impossible to escape the pandemic. I yearned to be somewhere I could move freely without fearing human contact and breathe in cool clear air without restriction. The southern waters of the Salish Sea, which have drawn me back year after year, would be that somewhere. Its maze of narrow waterways doesn’t attract the boaters who crowd the San Juans and the Gulf Islands in the heart of the Salish, and offers many places so shallow that only small craft can travel there.I trailered ROW BIRD, my 18′ Oughtred Arctic Tern, to Arcadia, a community of a dozen homes 11 miles north of Olympia, the state of Washington’s capitol. The concrete boat ramp there, usually busy with commercial shellfish boats equipped with dive gear and burly men in chest waders, was empty. Grateful for the solitude and the freedom to breathe, I felt surprisingly normal as I launched ROW BIRD. I set out late in the day, in that golden hour when the sun illuminates the water in long orange bands. With about three hours to make 5 nautical miles before dusk, and a steady sea breeze from the west rippling the water, I knew I’d make it handily to my first anchorage, Big Fishtrap, with time to spare.

Roger Siebert

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