August 10, 2002
The Round Shaw Row of the Sound Rowers takes place in the vicinity of Shaw Island, located in the San Juan Islands in the northwest corner of Washington State. It is about 14 miles west-northwest of Anacortes, WA (about 100 minutes by car north of Seattle), and can be reached either by water (ferry) or by air. As I was taking my Escapade pedal boat I chose the ferry route.
To make sure that I had plenty of time to prepare for the race I took off Friday and arrived at the Anacortes exit in Burlington at about 11:30 AM. There was a line of cars, trucks and RV's lined up on the shoulder for about a quarter mile before the exit--all trying to head either to the Anacortes ferry terminal, or to Whidbey Island! The prospect of making it to the terminal in time for the 2:45 PM sailing to Shaw Island was starting to not look good - especially as my car was also starting to run low on gas!
Eventually I made it off the freeway and onto the highway, heading west to Anacortes. It looked like my car had enough gas to make it to the terminal, and back - at least to Anacortes, if not to the low-priced ARCO station by the freeway. For some reason, the price of gas is always at least $.10 or $.15 cheaper per gallon here than in Seattle.
After driving through the rapidly growing town of Anacortes (four stop lights and counting!) the highway turns west to the ferry terminal, which is located several miles out of town. The line of traffic I was driving in all turned off to the terminal, and we sat in line before the toll booth.
As it appeared that we were going to wait a while I turned off my car's engine. As the line slowly moved forward down the hill towards the ticket booths I let my car coast, using the emergency brake to stop. It seemed to take at least 20 minutes before I finally reached the ticket booth, so this maneuver probably saved half a gallon or more.
After paying for the ticket, I had to wait in still another line where the cars were sorted into different lanes depending on which island they headed. Since Shaw Island is nowhere near as popular as Orcas, San Juan, Lopez or Vancouver, the number of ferries that head there is fewer, and the space allotment is smaller still. Some other folks who arrived soon after I did had to wait three hours or more for the next ferry.
Meanwhile, I ate lunch and fielded questions about my pedal boat from other people waiting for their ferry.
Eventually the ferry to Shaw Island arrived and I drove aboard. The 70 minute voyage past Blakely and Obstruction Islands was smooth and uneventful.
This was my first visit to Shaw. As I had read in the travel literature, the ferry terminal contract on Shaw is held by a local convent. The officers were wearing their nun garments along with safety vests, and they did a fine job of directing traffic and operating the ramps.
I followed a couple of cars with really long boats on their rooftops. It was doubtful that these folks were here for anything but tomorrow's race, and they were almost certainly headed for the one and only campground on the island. So I drove along the narrow, twisty and otherwise deserted road, gawking at the small farms, boats, houses and a big World War II marine mine beside a driveway. Maybe I'll get a picture of it next time...
We arrived at Shaw Island County Park, which was almost completely devoid of campers. As the spots were all a bit too small to accommodate a car, trailer and tent I chose to set up on the grassy day-use lawn area. A hand-written sign posted nearby indicated that this was OK for this weekend only.
After setting up camp, using my ancient Gerry pyramid-style tent, cot, inflate-a-rest air mattress and sleeping bag, I set off in exploration towards the beach.
The park has one of the very few sandy beaches in the San Juan islands - and it is gorgeous. The boat launch is located at the edge of the park, adjacent to private property, but this is in the middle of the beach. In addition, the water is quite shallow for at least 100 yards from shore, so at low tide it is quite difficult to launch a boat that has any sort of a keel - like mine. In addition, there is no dock, so unless you have an anchor you will have to beach your vessel in order to keep it from drifting away.
One of the other campers had made arrangement with a local power boat owner to be picked up at the beach and taken over to Friday Harbor for dinner at a Mexican restaurant. The rest of us had to make do with what we brought.
My dinner, consisting of a hot dog, top ramen soup, blueberry muffin and juice, required only heating up some water with my backpacking stove. While that was heating and afterwards while eating dinner I read through the San Juan Islands Almanac. It contained just about all the statistics you could want about these islands and their inhabitants. Some of the local history of each of the major islands was included as well.
Of most interest to me were the tide tables in the back. They indicated that tonight we would have an 8 foot high tide, and tomorrow about race time we would have a -2.2 foot tide. Rats! Launching my boat was going to be a real pain!
It soon got dark, and I and went to bed. For whatever reason, I was unable to see any of the Perseid meteor shower that night, even though the sky was mostly clear and dark.
Morning came, after a long fitful night's sleep listening to the waves lapping against the shore, and the infrequent distant rumble of a passing ferry. I crawled out of bed and put on my bike shorts, nylon pants, polo shirt and jacket. It was a little chilly, with the temperature in the upper 50's/low 60's, but the sky looked like it would clear up soon. Indian Cove was very calm.
Breakfast consisted of cereal and chocolate soy milk, plus a carton of tangerine kiwi juice. Ok, I'll admit it. I didn't have any small cartons of plain or vanilla soy milk, and had to steal some chocolate ones from my son Max's pantry. It was tolerable, and meant that the stove didn't need to be fired up.
Soon people started arriving in numbers. The grassy lawn area soon filled up with cars, trailers and people, and the road was lined with even more vehicles. I registered for the race which, surprisingly, had no fee, and for $10 bought a very nice T shirt commemorating this, the 25th year of the race.
As the tide was going out I decided it would be better to try to launch my Escapade earlier than later. I removed the windshield, as it looked like it would be a relatively warm, calm day and I did not want to get overheated. Gingerly I backed the car and trailer down the wooden ramp onto the sand and over a stretch of seaweed covered beach into the water. Unfortunately, by the point that my car's wheels touched the water the trailer was in no deeper than 6 inches of water! Aargh!
I swapped my shoes for a pair of wading boots and unhitched the trailer from the car. It was a bit of a struggle, but with the help of another person I was able to push the trailer out into deeper water - deep enough that when the Escapade was pushed off the bunks it did not stick into the bottom, anyway. The trailer was about 50 feet from the car, and that kind person helped me drag the trailer through the water back to the car. It sure would have been easier with Lilac, Bob Stuart's pedal kayak!
My car also got stuck, though through the help of a couple of bystanders pushing I was able to make it off the beach and back to the campsite.
If there was a pre-race meeting on land, I missed it. I was more concerned about making sure that my Escapade was not left high and dry by the receding tide. In fact, I had to lift it up and out of the sandy bottom several times, and drag it further out into the water. Everyone else had the same problem, except their boats were about 200 pounds lighter than mine, and they didn't have sailboat-like keels. Eventually I gave up and shoved off into deeper water to await the start of the race.
I was glad I did. There was quite a bit of sea grass stretching from near the shore out about 100 yards or more into the cove. Pedaling through this would have wrought disaster with my propeller, so I made good use of my trusty canoe paddle to reach deeper and weed-free waters. Meanwhile, people started launching their boats and began paddling in every direction.
Mike Reid, the race director, got out in his row boat and started to get things organized. "Everyone going around the island in a clockwise direction, your starting line is over there. Everyone going around counter-clockwise, your starting line is over there.". You might be able to tell from the photo which line is which.
Since I had removed my now waterlogged boots (now drying on a driftwood log on the beach) and gone barefoot in pushing the Escapade to deeper water, it was now time to put on my socks and shoes for pedaling. As luck would have it, some of the other racers were a little late to the start as well, so I didn't end up delaying things.
At about 10:40 AM Mike gave the starting signal. Like rockets, all the rowing shells took off and headed into the distance. They were followed by the surf skis, and then by most of the sea kayaks. Taking up the rear were the big row boats and yours truly in his Escapade.
Choosing the counter-clockwise direction along with most of the other racers, we soon reached the first point of the island. Several racers chose to take it with a wide berth in order to miss hitting both the submerged rocks and the other boats. Others passed as close as possible to the shore so as to travel the least distance. My course was somewhere between these two extremes since most of the other boats were long gone and there were patches of weeds to avoid as well.
A pair of men in their large rowboat were traveling about the same speed as my boat, so I had some "competition" after all. We kept fairly close together, even with me taking time out to put up my bimini to shield me from the sun, and taking pictures of the race. They also were helpful in taking a look at my prop to see if any weeds were fouling it.
The east side of Shaw Island appeared to be much rockier than at Indian Cove. The water seemed to get much deeper close to shore, so it was possible to keep close to the island. Also, since the tide was at a minus 2 foot level, I could see all sorts of sea bottom life still clinging to the rocks, glistening in the sunlight.
Rounding the northeast point of the island, my rowboat companions chose to move into the middle of the channel between Shaw and Orcas islands. Why? Only they knew - perhaps they found the currents there more to their liking. As far as I could tell, there was no advantage and there were several disadvantages passing them on their right and left fairly frequently; i.e., speed boats, sail boats, etc.
I hung close to shore.
Shortly afterwards I came across a group of kayakers coming from the west. It was way too early for any of the clockwise direction racers, and indeed it was. These folks were tourists out for a paddle around the islands who had rented their boats from a place on Orcas Island. We exchanged pleasantries, and we went off our respective ways.
The Shaw Island ferry terminal came into view, and I started to keep a sharp lookout for oncoming racers.
The coast of Shaw Island plunges deep to the south just west of the ferry terminal. Rather than follow the shoreline I chose instead to travel in a straight line towards the next point of the island. My companions in their rowboat, now somewhat ahead of me, did the same. We were both in fairly open water, with the Orcas Island ferry terminal in view to the northwest.
All of a sudden, with a rather quick action, the rowboat changed direction and headed towards the Shaw shore. As I kept on pedaling I looked behind and saw a ferry approaching. No big deal. It was probably going to the Shaw terminal which I had passed a few minutes ago. In fact, it appeared to be turning somewhat to the south towards that direction.
The rowboat continued towards the shore. I continued towards the far point of Shaw. From a distance came the sound of one of the rowboaters shouting "The Ferry! Get out of the way!". Hmmm, turning around I could see that, yes, the ferry was still some ways behind me, still apparently heading for Shaw.
Well, maybe it was, or maybe the ferry captain likes to do a wide "farmer turn" to enter the Orcas terminal. Regardless, just after I started heading towards Shaw and putting on a bit more speed I heard a voice from the ferry's public address system. What did it say? Who knows? It was too jumbled for me to make much sense of it. I just kept on pedaling out of its path as fast as I could.
Sure enough, the ferry made a wide turn and headed straight to the Orcas ferry terminal.
After the ferry passed I returned to my original course. Quite a few boats cruised by, heading east or west. Their passage made it a bit more interesting as I found I could surf a little down the wakes of the westward boats, and splash a bit as I hit the eastward wakes.
As I approached some of the small islands to the north of Shaw the channel narrowed considerably. This was about noon, and finally the first of the clockwise direction racers appeared. It turns out that the vast majority of the participants chose the counter direction, so I encountered only a small handful of people here. This included the mixed couple in a gorgeous golden wooden rowboat, a mother and daughter in a white rowboat, and a couple of kayaks.
About this time my knees started talking to me. It was a rather quiet conversation, but they were saying that they would like to take a break now and then. I agreed. Taking out my lunch I pedaled off and on towards the north west corner of the island.
In addition to the above, a woman in a catamaran style craft with a sliding seat rowing apparatus passed by just as I was eating my ham sandwich and corn chips. She claimed (as did the other boaters) that she did not need any of my food or drink, even though I offered it to them. Oh, well. More for me to consume!
A couple of kayak racers passed and that was the last of the clockwise group. As far as I could tell, the clockwise direction was just about as fast as the counterclockwise direction, at least up till now. So far there were no real obvious tidal currents to contend with, and the breeze was just enough to keep me cool. The scenery along the shores of the islands was absolutely gorgeous, too, with the occasional house, dock or anchored vessel to break up any monotony.
I finished my can of strawberry spritzer soda and continued pedaling.
Reaching the furthest northwest part of the island (Neck Point), I came upon a ferocious looking sea creature near the shore. It was tied to a mooring buoy, making sure that none but the owner would come near.
Rounding the point I came upon one of the seemingly longest stretches of the race. Here was a large bay, about two or three times wider than that by the Shaw ferry terminal. I could see the two man rowboat that I had been following about half a mile or more ahead, still going about the same speed. There was a bit of a headwind, and a small chop with the occasional wake from some distant passing boats.
Every so often a small plane or two would pass overhead. Once in a while they would circle back to take a closer look at me, and then fly off. No problem. I just munched on some fresh blueberries and grapes and sucked down the contents of a carton of fruit punch.
After what seemed to be forever, but was only about 30 minutes, I finally reached the end of the bay. Here I was able to see that not only was there a headwind, but there was also a tidal current of 1 or 2 knots to fight against. The bull kelp was streaming to the north, and I took care to not get tangled in it.
Off to my right I could see the town of Friday Harbor, which is located across the channel on San Juan island. It appeared to be a rather busy place, with lots of boat traffic and planes buzzing overhead. This made me appreciate the quiet around Shaw that much more.
As I neared yet another point I saw the rowboat take a very wide tack. Closer to the island I saw what looked to be very unsettled water, possibly due to waves breaking over rocks, or due to currents mixing and mashing. As I hoped to make up some time, and the waves didn't look much worse than stuff I had encountered previously, I decided to cut straight through.
Sure enough, the waves were from currents mixing and mashing. I could feel the differential pressure against the boat and rudder as the Escapade cut through the waves. There were times when the boat moved sideways at a couple of knots rather than forward, and some of the chop reached a depth of three feet or so. Still, none of it came inside, and soon I was through it. The adrenaline rush certainly helped move me, too!
A couple of seals decided to take a look at me. Unfortunately, every time I got my camera ready these clowns would either disappear or be so far off in the distance that the pictures were nearly worthless. This is one case where a film camera would have been better than a digital.
After reaching the first tidal current "patch" it seemed that I had to fight for every foot of progress towards the finish line. Staying close to shore seemed to be no better than out in the middle of the channel. The bull kelp near shore seemed to indicate a very strong current, with miniature rapids made by the water flowing over these plants.
Using trees on the shore as milestones, there were times when I was pedaling as hard as I could, the water flowing rapidly past the hull, and yet I was making absolutely no forward progress.
At these times I tried going closer to shore, or further out into the channel - anything - just to get past this area.
Finally, after lots of pedaling, I reached the southern section of the island and was making "normal" progress. Whew!
With a couple of miles to go, and my energy starting to flag, I drank some more juice and had some more blueberries. This was also the time to hook myself up to my PDA/MP3 player for some tunes with a strong fast beat. It was amazing how much of a difference that made.
Reaching the final point before turning into Indian Cove, I was very happy to have that energy burst. The current around that point was running at least 3 knots in the wrong direction. If I had not been pedaling my heart out I'm sure I would have been stuck out there for a much longer time.
The last stretch to the finish line was pretty quiet, and seemed to take much longer than I expected. The current did not seem to be a factor. Indian Cove was just bigger than I remembered, at least from this end. It was also hard at first to pick out exactly where the finish line was, with all the boats strewn along the shore.
Finally, I was able to pick out the boat launch and the private residence next to the county park, and headed straight there.
Even with the tide on its way back in the sea grass still was a problem. Several hundred feet from shore I stood up and started paddling my way. Did Mike Reid, the official time keeper, even see that I had returned? Who knows? As far as I was concerned, my watch said I had been out on the course from 10:40 AM to 3:00 PM, and that was good enough for me.
As it turned out, I completed the race only a few minutes before the mother/daughter team and the marine biologist team. There might have been a few more people behind, but I have not as yet seen the official race results.
It was pretty amusing to me when the marine biologists asked if I was playing games with them. It seemed to them that they would catch up to me and then all of a sudden I would put on speed and leave them far behind. This might be accurate, because they chose to stay as close to shore as possible while I tried a more or less direct route from point to point. However, the only time I saw them was on the north side of the island. After that I thought I was pretty much alone out there.
After removing my shoes and socks, I jumped overboard and dragged the boat as far up onto the shore as possible. The incoming tide was still not up to the point where I could load the boat onto its trailer, so the best thing to do was to beach the boat, and join the finish line party at the park picnic shelter. Eventually I was able to load it on and, with the help of someone sitting on the hood of my front wheel drive Neon, able to drive the whole shebang up and off the beach.
The race organizers had put together a wonderful buffet of home made chili, potato salad, watermelon, chips, salsa, and several desserts. They also provided lots of lemonade and beer. Boy, was it good! I ended up eating so much that all I had for dinner three hours later was a piece of apple walnut pie!
Thanks to the work by these wonderful people, the 25th Round Shaw Row was a resounding success!
To see all the pictures, in larger and better formats, and including the return trip, visit Aug 9, Aug 10, or Aug 11.
To see the map of the course, visit this link.