On this fine morning in September, the Sound Rowers held the Bainbridge Island Marathon. No, it is not a running race. Rather, it is a human powered boat race somewhat longer than 26 miles as it circumnavigates Bainbridge Island, located on the west side of Puget Sound opposite Seattle.
Since this race starts at the Fay Bainbridge State Park on Bainbridge Island, you either have to drive the long way around to the one and only bridge to the island, or take the ferry. You choose between time and wear and tear on you and your car for the $12 (each way) passage. Of course, if you have a boat longer than 20 feet, or are pulling a trailer, then the ferry cost can be dramatically higher.
I chose the ferry, along with a whole bunch of other folks heading to the race. There were quite a few bikes there, too, for the Tri-Island Trek, though I think they may have boarded a different ferry.
The ride to the island took about 35 minutes. During the ride many of the racers congregated on the passenger deck. We discussed the race, argued about the most favorable direction to go, and a host of other boating topics. As we neared Bainbridge, however, we noticed quite a few large patches of what appeared to be lawns floating on the waves. These large patches, at least 20 feet wide by up to one hundred feet in length, were the color and density of grass lawns! Yikes! Those were some mean weeds we would have to contend with! (Note: the picture above does not do justice to what we saw from the ferry.)
It looked as though the new weed cutter on my Cadence would be given a thorough test!
The trip from the ferry to the state park was uneventful. Our group pretty well filled most of the beach parking lot with our cars and boat trailers. Most of the grassy area became clogged with kayaks, rowing shells and other boats as people unloaded their vehicles and prepared for the race.
I unloaded my boat and wheeled it over on a dolly to the edge of the beachfront log field, and went to get registered. This year everyone who entered received a nice baseball cap embroidered with the Bainbridge Island Marathon logo and date. Not a bad deal for $7!
The pre-race meeting was held. Beverly Torok-Storb took some group photos of us. (Yes - I'm in the picture.) A short discussion was held where people were given theories as to which way would be the best for the marathon racers to head. The consensus was to go counter clockwise. This would take advantage of the flood tide currents through Agate ge. However, once past Rich Passage, the southwesterly winds should push nicely back to the park and the currents would be negligible. The short course racers, of course, could only go counter clockwise (from Fort Ward State Park to Fay Bainbridge along the east side of the island) as the other direction was longer.
No rescue boats were available this year, so having the ability to handle self rescue was mandatory.
After the meeting ended several people came up to me to talk about the Cadence. They had quite a few questions which, unfortunately, made me a bit late in getting my boat launched. Oh, well.
Paul Rollinger helped me carry the fully laden Cadence over the logs and down to the shore. I switched to my water shoes and with Paul's help managed to get the boat far enough from shore that it would float above the weeds lining the extremely shallow low tide waters of the beach. There were only the smallest of waves lapping at the shore, so this was not too difficult a process.
I got in the boat. Being in a bit of a rush I did not bother to dry off my feet; rather, I put on my wet feet a pair of socks that claimed to be made from some sort of wicking fabric, and then put on a pair of bike shoes.
I pedaled out to where the others were preparing for the start of the race. Surprisingly enough, in spite of the consensus that going counter clockwise around the island would be the fastest, most of the kayaks and a couple of the rowing shells were positioned to go clockwise instead. Should I go the other way? Maybe...nope. I'll go CCW.
I reset the GPS trip odometer and all too soon the starting signal was given. I snapped a few pictures as the field started moving. People certainly did not seem to be pushing quite as hard at the start of this race! Still, it seemed that the sea kayaks were all moving a little bit faster than the 6.5 to 7 mph I wanted to pedal. Perhaps they were just stronger. Perhaps they had more energy to burn. Or, possibly, they were not gauging their effort enough and would burn out later in the race.
Shortly after passing Port Madison at the northeastern tip of Bainbridge it felt as though something began dragging on my propeller. I immediately went through the forward and backward pedaling weed removal technique that I had previously used to chop weeds, but it just did not seem to quite do the trick. Perhaps I was just dreaming, but my speed seemed to drop by about 0.5 to 1.0 miles per hour. It was no longer quite as easy keeping up with the other boats.
Maybe the weed cutter was not doing as good a job as hoped or, possibly, it was still machining itself into the propeller hub and the resulting friction was the cause of the drag.
They were definitely getting further ahead of me. Whether it was due to their superior strength or whatever I could not say. At any rate, I did not want to pull out here to check, because my speed was still a reasonably fast 6+ mph, and perhaps it was all in my imagination.
About this time I realized that the GPS was not recording my track. Rats! This track information is what I use to reconstruct my course and performance after the race, and it could also shed some light on what was going on. Oh, well. A few button pushes later and it was now doing all it should have from the beginning.
There was still at least one kayak nearby as I cruised around Agate Point and headed south to the pass. He chose to stay close to shore while I chose the middle of the channel, hoping to catch the majority of the current. All I know is that with the same pedaling effort as before, the boat was now going over 8 mph. Yeehaw!
A lone bicyclist crossed the Agate Pass Bridge as I went under.
The other boats were far off in the distance. Only an occasional flash of sunlight reflected from their paddles could be seen.
The kayaker who had remained close to me through this section seemed to be fall further and further behind as we traveled through this area. He continued to stick close to shore, and I kept out in the channel. Sure, it was a bit more boring, but it seemed to be faster.
Unfortunately, it was getting hotter, too. There was not much wind on this side. With temperatures in the mid 70's and the sun beginning to shine steadily I was getting pretty hot and sweaty. My shirt was soaked, and my handkerchief was getting pretty wet from wiping sweat from my eyes.
I opened my shirt and slapped some sunscreen on my chest, pedaling all the while. The GPS indicated that I was now going a little over 6 mph.
About this time a cabin cruiser zoomed south past me in the middle of the channel. Aha! I could try surfing the wake and gain some speed. So, as the waves approached I started pedaling harder, positioning the Cadence at an angle to the waves in order to take best advantage.
The first waves came, and I felt the stern of the boat rise. Pedaling faster, though with less effort as it was now downhill, the boat picked up speed. The wave passed under, and the boat was now in the trough between two waves. The bow became embedded in the first wave, and the stern in the following wave. It suddenly became rather tricky to maintain both the proper direction and balance, and I was very close to flipping over south the canoe paddle that had been bungied to the side of the boat came loose, and the grip end managed to stick way out into the water! This was causing havoc with my balance.
Ok, that was enough excitement for now I decided, and managed to work my way out of the wake.
It was taking a while to cross Manzanita Bay en route to Battle Point, even at the otherwise relatively constant 6 mph. Sweat kept dripping down my face and into my eyes, stinging them most severely. My glasses were getting smeared from the handkerchief as I wiped my eyes and brow. The light breeze did not do much to reduce the heat, which was mainly caused by exertion and not by the air temperature or the sun. Periodically I would drag my hands in the cool water, which would help a little, but the effects were only temporary. My hat was helping a bit to keep my head cooler, but the life jacket was still holding in quite a bit of heat even though it was open in front.
Far ahead, a couple of kayaks could be seen rounding Battle Point. It was now about an hour into the race, and roughly a quarter of the distance had been covered. This was right on schedule! In fact, there was a good possibility I could catch those guys.
Soon I reached the sandy, gravelly shores of Battle Point. Last year there were quite a few people picnicking here. This year the place was empty. I cut a course closer to shore in order to steer clear of any tidal currents from Rich Passage, until the sight of widespread floating green stuff indicated that it would behoove me to stay in deeper waters.
There were a number of boats tied up to floats or small floating platforms along this stretch of shore. The breeze from the southwest along with the very minor tidal current was directing them to point to the south.
The toes on my right foot were complaining. In fact, they had started complaining shortly after Agate Pass, but they were getting more and more insistent. It felt as though the socks had formed a wrinkle, and every pedal stroke was eliciting pain. I finally stopped and took off my shoe and sock. It appeared that two toes had been rubbing each other, and something had been irritating them. I could not see anything explicitly wrong, except for the fact that I had not dried them off after boarding the boat at the beginning of the race. I put the sock and shoe back on, making sure that no wrinkles were formed in the process.
This helped, but only a little. They still hurt quite a bit.
My legs were also starting to get a bit tired. After passing a couple of nice vacant floating dock platforms I finally decided to stop at one in order to check the status of my propeller and weed cutter. After getting out and placing my hat and camera on the platform, I lifted the stern of the Cadence from the water. A small piece of eelgrass fell off from somewhere, but there appeared to be nothing whatsoever around the prop shaft or rudder. This was excellent! Well, sort of. I did not have much of any excuse for being tired!
I got back in the boat and continued pedaling. It was time to start eating the energy bars.
It was in the Westwood area that I encountered the first of the clockwise direction racers. Jeff and Theresa Knakal were just cooking along, rowing very strongly down the middle of the channel. I told them they were heading the wrong way, but for some reason they just wouldn't listen. So much for that strategy!
Further south I approached a high pier jutting westward into the channel. On top were several people and their mountain bikes. They were Mr. and Mrs. Furtado, Sound Rowers members, who had biked from Fay Bainbridge park on the opposite corner of the island. They waved and snapped photos as I pedaled past. This caused me to choke on a chocolate caramel protein bar I had been eating when I attempted to return the greetings.
Nearing Point White at the southwest corner of Bainbridge Island the Bremerton to Seattle ferry could be seen making its way. With any luck I would go through Rich Passage without encountering the next ferry and its wake.
About 10 minutes after the Knakals passed came the second clockwise racer, Bill Jaquette. He was staying much closer to shore, but was still making good time. I cheered him on, and he just smiled.
It was time to eat the next item in my gourmet food bag: a pouch of some sort of raspberry cream flavored goo-like energy food. Yumm? Well, maybe. It was not too bad, when washed down with water. I was now into the second of my two water bottles, and the gatorade was gone. It might get a little thirsty toward the end of this race.
Approaching Rich Passage the current was picking up, and my speed was dropping. It was now down around 4.5 to 5 mph. There were several vessels traveling through the area, including a large two man Jet-Ski playing in the wakes.
It looked like the best course was to head directly across the channel to the Kitsap Peninsula (south) side, and head along the shore as close as possible in order to avoid the brunt of the current. That is what the kayak ahead of me was doing, anyway.
It was rather slow going. With the bow pointed to the port of where I intended to go, and pedaling with more effort than had previously been needed to travel at 6+ mph, I was now heading sideways towards the far shore at about 4 mph. Hmm, considering how long Rich Passage was compared with Agate Pass, it just might have been better going clockwise. Oh, well. It was far too late now to change my mind!
It was now about 2 hours and 15 minutes into the race. As far as I could tell, this was about the halfway point in the course. Over on the north side of the channel quite a few of the clockwise racers could be seen. It was hard to see if they were taking advantage of the current.
On the south side of Rich Passage approaching Point Glover it was amazing how clear the water was. The stony, barnacle encrusted bottom seemed so vividly near the surface that, wait a minute, it was close to the surface! Yikes! I had to steer further away from shore to avoid the rocks. This meant more work against the current, but that was better than hitting the bottom.
The combination of the tide currents and the near shore rocky bottom turned Rich Passage into something of a riverine experience. There were eddies, riffs, sleepers, standing waves, etc. What fun!
According to the clock it took 45 minutes to reach the end of Rich Passage. Mentally, however, it seemed much longer. I was getting very tired. Trying to be attentive to the water conditions and pedaling against the current just seemed to be draining all my energy. Perhaps those energy foods aren't all they are advertised as being.
Towards the east end of the Passage both the kayak I was gaining on and I crossed back over to the Bainbridge Island side. We passed Fort Ward State Park, some salmon farming pens anchored out in the channel, and some large piers near Beans Point. Slowly, but surely, I was getting closer to the kayak, just as long as I kept pedaling. When I stopped pedaling the current through here would push me backward at about 2 mph. Got to keep pushing!
There were some interesting sandstone formations on the beach. They were the backdrop for a gathering of seagulls I happened to see.
There were a couple of occasions where it was necessary to move away from shore in order to find safer passage. For example, in the first picture above the water was reasonably deep until one got close to the two big wooden, rock filled structures. With the waves, the current washing between them and the shallows surrounding them, it was necessary to give that area a fairly wide berth. At one point I barely escaped hitting bottom as I encountered an especially deep swell.
At long last I caught up with the guy in the kayak. Of course, it helped that he decided at the last minute to head to shore for a lunch break, but I won't mention that. Onward I pedaled towards Restoration Point and Decatur Reef.
The view of downtown Seattle in the distance was pretty awesome. You could even see a couple of Alaskan cruise ships that had returned to port. In fact, that reminded me that a coworker of mine should have returned from his cruise on one of those ships, so I called him on my cell phone and we chatted a while.
By the time I reached Restoration Point and headed north I was totally exhausted. It was about 3 hours and 40 minutes into the race, and the trip around the south end of Bainbridge had completely worn me out. The supply of energy bars, goo and juice was also gone. All that was left was a little more than half of a water bottle.
It was time for a break.
Ahh, it felt good to just sit there for a couple of minutes, enjoying the view of the traffic on Puget Sound. There was not much in the way of wind, and the current seemed to have disappeared. Over to the east I could see an Argosy Cruises ship slowly heading from Seattle towards Bainbridge like some resurrected version of the old Mosquito Fleet that used to ply these waters many years ago.
The guy in the kayak appeared and asked if I was OK.
I returned to pedaling and we traveled more or less together towards Blakely Rock and Eagle Harbor. Approximately 8 miles were left to go.
Approaching Blakely Rock there were several floating patches of weeds in the water through which we had to travel. In fact, where there were no patches pieces of weeds were more or less suspended in the water and one came upon them without warning. It was going though the patches, however, that I found how well the weed cutter was working.
I would be pedaling along at about 5.5 to 6 mph, legs, knees and foot complaining all the while. The Cadence would slide through the thick green mat of detritus, and there would be some light additional resistance to the effort needed to pedal. This mostly seemed to go away in one or two strokes, but the speed of the boat would drop about 0.5 mph. I would continue pedaling until the boat was well beyond the mat. At this time I would pedal backward until the boat started going in reverse, and then start pedaling forward again with the same effort as prior to the encounter. The GPS registered my speed afterwards as the same as before the weeds. Hurray!
There were lots of weeds and weed mats on this side of the island. However, unlike previous encounters where they were truly a pain in the foot, this time the Cadence simply cut them up. No fuss, no muss. Problem solved.
Now if only I could do something about my lack of conditioning!
Just beyond Eagle Harbor I came upon a large canoe with lots of people. Apparently it was one of the local Indian tribes having fun on the water. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, and their vessel certainly was attracting attention from other boaters in the area.
It was getting difficult to concentrate. Making each point on the island a short term goal at which time I would rest for a minute or two, I was able to continue pedaling between 5 and 6 mph. This averaged out into a speed slightly faster than the guy in the kayak, though by this time I was not certain that mattered. The last few drops from my water bottle tasted pretty good, however.
The water was pretty flat. Not many boats were out in this area, so it was pretty quiet, too. Weeds were everywhere. Ha!
To my pleasant surprise a red kayak was approaching from the north. In it was Paul Rollinger, who was backtracking the course in search of Debbie Natelson. We exchanged greetings, and off he paddled.
The shore along here was rather interesting to observe. There was your typical sandy gravel beach, but just a few steps from the water the beach ended in the wall of a cliff. Perched on top of the cliff one could see quite a few houses situated fairly close to the edge. This would not necessarily be of much concern, except for the simple fact that the cliff was composed of compacted sand and gravel.
I guess the owners of these homes never heard of erosion.
At long last the GPS trip odometer indicated that I had gone over 26 miles. There should not be more than another half mile or so left to go!
In order to give my legs a rest I started pedaling with my arms. They were able to keep a pace of 4.5 to 5.5 mph, and were not tired in the least. Unfortunately, bending forward in order to reach the pedals was rather unwieldy. Sigh...back to using the feet.
The shore started looking familiar. I was getting close to the park. It had to be within the next quarter mile or so.
Sure enough, there it was. The race officials had erected a big green flag to help in finding the finish line. The buoy could also be seen out in the water. This time, however, I was not going to sprint to the finish.
Five hours, nineteen minutes and twenty five seconds after starting, I finished in 15th place out of a field of 21 boats. The GPS reported a distance of about 27 miles.
Slowly, after putting on my water shoes, I turned back towards shore and got out on legs that seemed to be made from cooked spaghetti. Two minutes later John Holtman, the guy in the kayak, crossed the finish line. He assisted me in carrying the Cadence up onto the beach so the waves would not grind it into the gravel. Thanks, John!
Unfortunately, where I brought the Cadence to shore there happened to be yet another floating mat of weeds. Lifting the boat from the water resulted in many of these weeds hanging from the prop shaft, so it was difficult to see if the boat had been dragging any along with it. However, there were only a couple of the smallest pieces of eelgrass in the bushing by the shaft, and these did not seem to have much of any effect on the rotational resistance. So, I would have to say that the weed cutter modification is a resounding success!
I wobbled over to the registration area and found the remains of the finish line goodies on the tables. After downing a can of soda and a banana or two I started feeling nearly human again.
Bela helped me carry the Cadence back over the logs to the parking lot and onto the car. Thank you, too, Bela!
He left soon after, as I tied the boat to the rooftop carrier and stowed the rest of my gear inside.
I made it to the ferry terminal in time for the 5:30 PM ride back to Seattle. It felt good to zone out to some classical music waiting for the ferry to arrive.
That nice, warm shower sure felt good when I returned home - not to mention my bed that night!
It was another beautiful day and an excellent race course. Maybe I'll be in better shape next year and not be so exhausted by the end. It might even help if I remember to dry my feet before putting on my socks, too!
The complete set of photos I took during the race can be found here.
The course I followed during the race and some metrics can also be found there by clicking on the last picture above.
The course and depth info can be found here.