Shelton launch ramp
Puget Sound presents many challenges to boaters, and narrow Hammersley Inlet is one of them. Linking Shelton to the rest of Puget Sound, eight-mile-long Hammersley Inlet is like a saltwater river, with currents occasionally reaching five knots. This was my first trip through Hammersley. A few days later, after visiting some favorite Puget Sound locations, we pulled Whisper from the waters of Port Orchard on a rising tide in the falling darkness.
May 25, Sunday: Shelton to Filucy Bay
Shelton and Oakland Bay
Maybe the high price of gasonline influenced my decision to launch from close to home. Maybe it was because I was tired of feeling anxious about Hammersley Inlet conditions: a narrow, long, winding passage with many shoals, and fast currents at peak flows.
Tugs haul logs regularly through Hammersely, but those skippers have local knowledge. Despite reading guidebooks and talking to locals experienced in transiting Hammersley Inlet, I knew the only way to learn this waterbody would be to sail it myself.
If you have spent time around river systems, you know the outside of river bends is where the channel is deepest. The inside arc of those bends is where shallower, muddier bottoms are built. The eastern half of Hammersley is like a river with channels to the outside of bends, and shallow water toward the inside of bends. Unlike a river, Hammersley Inlet flows in two directions, so there are often two channels present, with shallower water between them.
The launch
Hammersley Inlet
With water shallow enough to damage most recreational boats, and an inlet so narrow in places you could launch a rock across it with a slingshot, Hammersley Inlet was a waterbody that promised to be interesting. Having finally decided to tackle Hammersley, and armed with NOAA chart number 18457, Whisper found herself bobbing gently in Pickering Passage after successfully negotiating the inlet’s channels and shoals.
We launched Whisper on Sunday at high tide from the Shelton boat launch, a shallow gravel ramp with no finger pier. At the launch, there are pilings immediately to the north, and then the Port of Shelton and Shelton Yacht Club docks. Immediately to the south are more pilings. (The photograph of the launch ramp shows the tide lower than when we launched.)
Tidal currents in the channel were predicted to be moderate today. Most of the published advice I’ve read said one should try to transit Hammersley on a rising tide. In Whisper, that would mean motoring against a building current. With a retractable keel and kick-up rudder, I decided going out on a falling tide was a reasonable risk. I left the keel unsecured so I could lift it quickly, and left the rudder blade unlocked so it would kick up if needed.
I backed down until the rear truck tires were partly submerged and Whisper was floating off the rear end of the trailer bunks. A little push and she was floating for the first time since last fall. I guided Whisper backward to clear the trailer, then pulled her bow around and slid her gently to the gravel and mud shore. While Jan held Whisper, I pulled the trailer up to level ground.
We tied the dinghy to a stern cleat, I started the motor with it lifted most of the way up, and Jan pushed me away from shore and tossed the bow line onto the foredeck. As Whisper glided backward, I went to lower the running motor only to discover I had forgotten to undo the motor locking arm. I needed to quickly get the motor down in the water for more bite and to make sure cooling water was being pumped through the motor!
Those who sail Potters know that with the keel up, there is not much hull shape to keep the boat from sliding sideways. The gentle breeze was pushing Whisper toward some barely submerged pilings by the time I got the locking arm undone and the motor down. (Shelton is a mill town, so the waterfront is heavily industrial in character.) Several turns of the winch and the keel was fully down. A quick tug on the rudder lines pulled the blade down and Whisper was ready. I spun her around and pointed her toward the center of the Hammersley Inlet channel.
I mentioned a dinghy. I have been looking for an inexpensive hard dinghy that would fit in the back of my pickup truck. We recently found an older Olympian dinghy in sound shape. It has enough dings that I’m not too worried abouting adding a couple of new ones. While we haven’t officially named it yet, the name that seems to be sticking with us is Taffy…because Whisper will be pulling Taffy.
Hope Island
Transiting Hammersley
After the launch, I set the motor to just above idle and kept the sails furled. I needed to focus on the nautical chart and watch the points to be able to follow the chart. Having said that, I was very glad to have chart 18457 because the channels and shoals move around quite a bit, and all other published guides did not contain the detail I needed to feel comfortable.
Whisper glided with the outgoing tide through timber-covered glades, past a mixture of beachfront cottages and large, expensive homes. I saw one other boat while in Hammersley: a sailboat, motoring along ahead of us. I passed several points — Eagle Point, Munson Point, Miller Point, Church Point, Skookum Point, Libby Point, Cannery Point, Cape Horn, Cape Cod, Hungerford Point — and was thankful they were distinctive enough to help me identify where I was.
About an hour and a half after launch, Whisper nosed into Pickering Passage. Shoal water exists around the mouth of Hammersley Inlet, just like it was a small river delta. I navigated to the center of Pickering Passage, then turned south toward Hope Island.
Hope Island, Dana Passage, Drayton Passage, Filucy Bay
Wooden boat in Drayton Passage
It was the day before Memorial Day and there were many boats about. Did I mention I really did not have an itinerary or plan for this trip? Because of the number of boaters on the water, I knew I could not expect any dock space or mooring buoys to be available. Several boats were on mooring buoys and anchored off the northwest side of Hope Island. I was very surprised to see the buoy on the south side was not taken, and I was tempted to tie up.
But…the Hammersley segment had gone well, I was feeling well, and it seemed too early in the day to quit. So I turneed Whisper’s nose into Dana Passage and thought maybe Joemma Beach State Park would be a good destination. As I approached Johnson Point, a quick look toward Joemma Beach through the binoculars revealed many, many boats. I turned toward Drake Passage where I could peek at Eagle Island State Park and into Filucy Bay.
Eagle Island had boats on bouys and at anchor, so I motored into Filucy Bay, staying close to shore to give plenty of room to a runabout pulling kids on an inflatable toy.
Filucy Bay
The Filucy Bay dock was not visible, hidden behind a plethora of large boats. The anchorage was chock-a-block full, with several rafts of boats anchored out. I headed toward the far north arm, and near the end, found some quiet space to drop the hook in a mud bottom.
About an hour later I was rowing Taffy through the bay when a Potter motored past, looking for anchoring room. The Ida Mae anchored a few hundred yards away. What a delight to see another West Wight Potter in the midst of all these boats! I chatted with the Bryant’s for a few minutes, then left them alone to enjoy the solitude.
Tired, I spent a very quiet, restful night at anchor.
May 26, Monday: Filucy Bay to Gig Harbor and Blake Island
Filucy Bay through the Tacoma Narrows
Filucy Bay chart
I headed out of Filucy Bay through Balch Passage (past Eagle Island) to catch a gently falling tide as I transited the Tacoma Narrows. South of Fox Island there was just enough breeze to make way, so I shut down the motor and raised all sail, sailing wing-on-wing downwind under the two Tacoma Narrows bridges.
Whisper was passed by a couple sailing a Dana 24 flying an asymmetric spinnaker. The Dana was making at least a knot more boatspeed than Whisper. The Dana 24 is one of my all-time favorite small sailboats. What a lovely craft.
With no itinerary planned, I ducked into Gig Harbor to see if space was available. As at Filucy Bay, there were many boats about. Surprisingly, there was room at the free dock. I put out the fenders and prepared to dock. Looking ashore, I saw canopies and hundreds of people milling about. It looked like there was going to be a concert or some kind of event. Suddenly I remembered my previous visit to Gig Harbor, with lots of loud people. I spun Whisper around and we headed out of the harbor.
Des Moines or Blake Island?
Once clear of the harbor channel, I pointed Whisper eastward, not having decided where to go. I could go to Des Moines and get gas, and maybe find a berth. Of course, if there was no guest moorage available at the marina, my other options would be very limited. Or I could go northward up Colvos Passage, riding the north-flowing current toward Blake Island. If there was no dock space, I was sure I could find a buoy.
Surprisingly, on Memorial Day, about half the dock space was open. After docking, I chatted with some other boaters who told me a few hours previously it had been packed full. The tour boats don’t run on Memorial Day, so the evening was very quiet.
Sometime since last year, the showers at Blake Island State Park were converted from quarters to tokens. You must put a dollar bill, or a five-dollar bill, into a machine at the park office to get your shower tokens.
After reviewing tides for the rest of the week, I realized it would be difficult for pull Whisper out during daylight hours. Tuesday night from Port Orchard was a viable time window, and Saturday morning was the next good window. I wasn’t prepared to stay out until Saturday, so I called Jan to see if she could pick up me up Tuesday night.
May 27, Tuesday: Blake Island through Rich Passage to Port Orchard
Blake Island chart
Tuesday morning dawned with clearing to the southeast and dark clouds to the north and northwest. About 9:00 am I motored quietly away from the Blake Island docks. Although I had enough fuel to make Port Orchard, there was a very slight breeze, and I was in no hurry. Up went the sails, and they soon filled with a gentle zephyr from the southwest.
Near Restoration Point was a white Coast Guard vessel. Several hundred feet above it was an orange Coast Guard helicopter. As the helicopter continued to orbit around the boat, it descended lower and lower until the downdraft was kicking up swirls of water spray.
(I have to confess I enjoy reading the history of Puget Sound. This trip in May past Restoration Point was a personal mini-celebration of Captain George Vancouver’s visit there in May 1792.)
A messenger line was lowered from the helicopter to the boat, and a rescue basket was lowered to the boat. A few moments later, up went the basket, followed by the messenger line. The helicopter moved away, then moved in again and repeated the maneuver. This exercise happened several times, and at one point a second Coast Guard helicopter was orbiting several thousand feet away.
The breeze had died away by this time, so I just sat in Whisper, watching the exercise in fascination. I was so fascinated I took no photographs!
About 30 minutes later, the breeze started to develop again, but it was very light. By this time I had decided I was going to try to sail through Rich Passage, even though the falling tide meant I would be sailing against the current.
Slowly, slowly, Whisper moved into the mouth of Rich Passage, staying near the red navigation buoys to avoid ferry and Navy traffic. The seals and sea lions sunning on the buoys barked their annoyance when Whisper strayed too near.
After a Seattle-to-Bremerton ferry passed, I sailed across the passage to start working the back eddies that develop down-current from points that disrupt the tidal flow. Several hours later, I emerged from Rich Passage into Port Orchard, still under sail. The current against Whisper continued to build all this time, and it took an hour to get clear of the Port Orchard side of the passage.
I continued to slowly sail Whisper down Port Orchard toward the marina and ramp, making long, slow tacks back and forth to move southward. I stopped counting the number of times a ferry passed me at number eight!
I arrived at the marina around 5:00 pm and tied up in a guest moorage slip while I started to prepare the boat for trailering. Jan arrived at 8:30 pm, and the rising tide brought enough water to be able to use the boat ramp. About 45 minutes later, we were on our way home.
Total distance covered was about 64 nautical miles, and I burned about two gallons of fuel. I sailed when I could, and motored quietly the rest of the time. The dinghy towed easily and gave me the ability to explore my destinations.
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