Armed with our new guide book, and the knowledge that we had already made it through the channel at low tide, we weighed anchor and set our sights on Roche Harbor. The channel was still extremely shallow and terrifying despite leaving at high tide. The punk power boat that cut me off and nearly made us run aground did not make it any less stressful either. Not to worry, our keel remains unscathed. (Everyone please knock on wood. Seriously though.)
Sails were hoisted for our trip through San Juan Channel and Spieden Channel toward Roche Harbor. As we sailed past Spieden Island we got the binoculars out to see if we could spot any exotic wildlife or nefarious characters. No luck. I am still convinced that there is a secret underground lair for some sort of illegal research. Emmy told us stories of people trying to land on the island and getting chased off by guys who suddenly appeared in black SUVs. We joked about trying to go ashore, and then the wind died and our boat spun around. They were listening. And they have weather control. Let me know if you can find anything on the internet.
As we got closer to the harbor entrance, Craig got snappy and we got into a fight about lunch. He was super hungry and ready to eat but the wind was super shifty and the channel is pretty narrow so sailing while eating lunch sounded like a pain. This is exactly the opposite of what he wanted to hear. I pulled the Admiral (wife) card and he came on deck so we could drop the anchor. At this point, all signs led to hangry. As soon as we confirmed that the anchor was holding I left Emmy and Craig to finish up on deck, heading below to get lunch ready as quick as possible so we could all get back to enjoying Craig’s company. After witnessing him use his fingers to eat salsa off the plate, I finally understood how hungry he was. The tortilla chips on his plate were apparently too inefficient.
Also in Roche Harbor were several friends from the dock at Shilshole. We attempted to row over to Jeff and Brenda’s boat but we seriously underestimated how far away we had anchored. They took pity on us, jumped in their dinghy, and swooped by to tow us ashore. I think it saved us at least an hour of rowing there and back. Once on dry land we checked out the sculpture park. Many of the sculptures are for sale. We played a guessing game for the prices and definitely had sticker shock. The giant boats in the marina were a clue, but we had no idea how much wealth was in this tiny harbor.
While Jeff and Brenda went to get wallets, we hopped in the showers for the first time since we left Shilshole. That’s right. Five days sans shower. The five minute, $1.50 shower was glorious and the three of us finally felt like it was acceptable to appear in public. We rejoined the folks from Shilshole for dinner ashore. It was yet another delightful evening of sharing stories and making plans.