This article was previously written by Rachel Messerschmidt for and published by Vancouver Family Magazine in October 2021 while sailing south.
Critical preparations for sailing south complete and eyes on a weather window for our first hop down the west coast, in mid-August, my mom drove five hours from Vancouver up to Port Angeles. She brought our crew members, Rachel Konsella and Brian Lockwood, up with her from Vancouver in the final coordination piece of our complicated passage puzzle.
She then collected our two children, Evan and Kali, to take them back to stay with her for the couple weeks that it would take to get the journey well and truly started.
We’re lucky and thankful to have so much support from family. Both my parents’ and my husband’s parents’ willingness to watch the kids opened the space on the boat for Rachel and Brian to join us as crew. Having four adults on board made the Washington and Oregon legs of the journey much more comfortable and safe as we got our sea-legs under us.
Port Angeles to Neah Bay
At 8pm on August 12th, we slipped our dock lines for the last time in the Salish Sea and headed west down the Strait of Juan de Fuca before sailing south. Into smoke and darkness. So much darkness.
We’d decided we would travel these first 60 miles through the night to avoid a windy trip. High winds which were kicking up each day. Smoke from the nearby wildfires had moved in and visibility was low. It took a lot of grit to motor for 9 hours through the darkness; the boat pushing strongly forward, us humans unable to do anything but trust our instruments. But we were rewarded with bright bioluminescence in the water and shooting stars above our heads.
Despite hitting something around midnight, likely a crab pot buoy or a big tangle of bull kelp, we made it safely to Neah Bay right at sunrise. Neah Bay is a local tribal community and they’ve remained closed to the outside world, including boat traffic, since the beginning of the pandemic. However, they graciously allow boats still to anchor in their protected waters at the head of the strait. A final ditch point before casting out into the open ocean.
Once our anchor was down and holding, we each laid down for some rest before consulting, again, the weather forecasts which would hold the ticket to when we could head out onto the Pacific.
Neah Bay to Newport, Oregon
Our weather window for sailing south held strong and we departed Neah Bay at 4pm on Saturday the 14th. Before we’d even rounded Cape Flattery, we were surrounded by a large group of humpback whales! The whales seemingly wishing us luck on our journey.
For 46 hours, we motored south along the Washington and Oregon coastline. The only downside to our weather window was that we knew we wouldn’t see enough wind to actually sail during the trip. But the sea state was good with very little wind and easy, gentle swell from the west.
We’d routed our trip to follow the commercial towboat lane which is supposed to be held clear of crab pots. This route took us anywhere from 5-20 miles offshore all down the coast of Washington and Oregon.
We’re not exaggerating when we say that we saw likely 50-75 whales in the 235 miles that we traveled from Neah Bay to Newport. We saw humpbacks and fin whales, sunfish, sea lions, sharks, and pelicans. Just before coming into Yaquina Bay at Newport, at noon on Monday the 16th, we spotted a pod of orcas! We were about an hour ahead of schedule for crossing the bar into Yaquina Bay. With the time to spare, we detoured and traveled northbound with the orcas for about 45 minutes before heading in to finish our first offshore leg.
Newport to Crescent City, California
The usual summer weather patterns off the west coast have not really developed well this season. So we, along with a gaggle of up to 8-10 other boats that were sailing south, all filtered in and ended up caught in Newport for over a week.
We enjoyed the first couple of days in Newport, catching up on sleep after the difficult rest patterns of our offshore 3-hour watch rotations. But the days wore on and the weather predictions remained unfavorable. We all grew to worrying about whether or not we would even get a chance to make another jump further south before Rachel and Brian had to return to Vancouver and their normal lives.
Thankfully, after 9 days in Newport, we were able to take a weather window that presented itself for a nice 33 hour hop down to Crescent City, California. We left at midnight for this passage and motored through the following day and night, arriving in Crescent City in dense fog on the morning of the 26th.
Again on this passage, we saw dozens of whales and what I believe were dall’s porpoises that came and played in the bow wake on the first morning. We had a few hours in the middle of the final night of actual sailing, with wind behind us at 20-25 knots. That night, the moon nearly full, the night watch was just magical. Each night that we journey onward, I grow more comfortable with the act of ‘going’ in darkness.
Making Friends to Last a Lifetime
Our crew members, Rachel and Brian, became close friends during those weeks of forced closeness while sailing south. Further, I loved having Rachel aboard- a professional photographer who was great at capturing all of the wildlife and special moments. They’re in the process of preparing their own boat for liveaboard cruising. They were thankful for the inspiration, motivation, and experience they gained out on the ocean with us aboard Mosaic.
Now, we road-trip north to return them to Vancouver, and to pick up our kids to bring back home. Our journey south continues, whenever the weather allows.
Rachel Messerschmidt and her family are Clark County natives living and cruising full time aboard their sailboat, Mosaic. Currently traveling from the Pacific Northwest, down the west coast of the US, and onward into Mexico, Rachel blogs about her life and journey at www.mosaicvoyage.com. She shares her family’s adventures in a monthly column in Vancouver Family Magazine. Follow Rachel and Brian’s journey to life afloat at www.sailingwithrachelandbrian.com.
