This article was previously written by Rachel Messerschmidt for and published by Vancouver Family Magazine in January 2021.

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It was 7:00am on Sunday, May 19^th, 2019. Right on time, we cast off our dock lines in Astoria and ventured out into the Columbia River for the last time. Spirits were high but the tension was palpable as we had the ultimate test of skill and preparation directly ahead of us in getting that blue sailboat and her crew safely across the infamous and treacherous Columbia River Bar.

This stretch of water where the Columbia River meets the vast Pacific Ocean is known across the world as the Graveyard of the Pacific. The Columbia River Bar has claimed and sunk thousands of ships over the last two and a half centuries, most of which were much larger than our 40-foot sailboat. And, on top of that, the Washington Pacific Coast is rugged and dangerous, with few safe harbors where we could pull in should anything go wrong. This passage, which would be our very first ocean adventure, was nothing to be taken lightly.

Knowing all of this, and harboring an over-abundance of caution, we had hired Captain Stephen Frankland, a professional sailing captain, to help us plan every detail of the trip and to come along with us. This would be a tremendous learning experience for us. We rounded out our crew with a friend, Brian, and also Brenden’s father, Scott. Thankfully, we were also able to leave our two kids with my parents so that we could focus 100% on the journey.

We’d planned a 24-hour motor-sail from Astoria to Neah Bay at the very NW tip of the Olympic Peninsula. After a brief rest there, we would continue onward for another 12 hours east in the Strait of Juan de Fuca to Port Townsend, WA.

Watching the weather predictions obsessively over the weeks and days leading up to our departure had become habit. We carefully selected a perfect window for the trip north. But it all hinged first on getting the boat safely across the bar. The weather cooperated and we had an exhilarating crossing as our boat climbed easily up and down the 8-foot waves just as if she was made to do it (which, of course, she was!).

Safely across the Columbia River Bar, we all breathed a sign of relief as we turned north. I remember saying, “Wouldn’t it be so cool if we saw a whale on this trip!?” I had no idea what we were in for- Mother Nature would not disappoint.

It wasn’t much more than about 20 minutes later that we saw our first whale. It was a humpback which came up for breath some 20 or 30 yards beside and behind Mosaic. Captain Stephen proclaimed it to be a good omen for the trip and we were all happy to accept his statement.

We settled into the journey with a rotating watch schedule of 4-hours on and 4-hours off. This always kept two people “on duty” in the cockpit, one steering the boat and the other on high-alert watch duty keeping an eye out for other vessels and ever-present crab pot buoys which could cause significant trouble if we ran over one and got the line caught in our propeller.

To keep us on our toes, just a few hours into the trip, we discovered that our alternator wasn’t functioning properly which meant our engine wasn’t charging our batteries. We had to transition to power conservation mode so that we would be able to conserve enough power to run our navigation lights as we motored through the blackness of night later on. This also meant that we couldn’t turn the engine off during the trip at all for any sailing, as we would have been running the risk of not being able to get it started again. Not ideal, but so long as we kept the engine running, it wasn’t a safety issue.

In the early afternoon, I woke from a short nap to Brenden pounding on the cockpit above the bed and shouts of “Dolphins!!” I rushed above decks to see dozens and dozens of dolphins surrounding the boat and jumping through the waves all around us. We watched in amazement as they played in the wave off the front of the boat and I recorded what I knew would be incredible footage on our Go-Pro.

Shortly thereafter, we were graced with seeing several additional humpbacks traveling north with us. For most of the rest of the daylight hours, there were often whales breaching, tail-slapping, and surfacing all around us. Once, as I was on watch and my father-in-law at the helm, my brain struggled to understand what I was seeing as two humpbacks surfaced directly in front of the boat and we actually had to throttle down to avoid a potential collision.

We stayed within sight of land all day and had a beautiful sunset at sea. As night fell, my apprehension peaked to be charging forward with little visibility to see around or in front of us. Would there be other boats in the area without lights on? How could we avoid crab pots in the dark? Or whales?

Despite these worries, night passage was an almost spiritual experience, as the beauty of the moon on the water and the darkness engulfing me was beyond words. I truly cannot wait for the opportunity to do it under sail power, without the droning sound of the engine in the dark.

We rounded Cape Flattery near Neah Bay just at sunrise and, taking stock of the crew, we all agreed to pass by Neah Bay and continue straight to Port Townsend without stopping. The boat was traveling happily despite our very low battery levels and our time at sea had solidified in our minds that this boat was meant to be a bluewater cruising vessel. She feels at home on the ocean.

At 8:00pm on Monday, May 20^th, thirty-seven hours after leaving Astoria, we pulled into a slip at the marina in Port Townsend and celebrated our first safe and successful ocean passage with a bottle of Kraken rum and a night on the town.

Rachel Messerschmidt and her family are Clark County natives currently living and cruising full time aboard their sailboat, Mosaic, in the Pacific Northwest. Rachel blogs about her life and journey at www.mosaicvoyage.com and shares her family’s adventures in a monthly column in Vancouver Family Magazine.

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