Massacre Bay

Our fridge part was to be arriving to Friday Harbor in a few more days. We needed only to occupy ourselves while staying within a reasonable distance to FH. Always in search of somewhere new to go, we pointed Meriwether back to Orcas Island, but this time to West Sound’s ominous sounding Massacre Bay.

We had some wind in our favor this day, even sailing nine of the twelve miles to our destination. Nothing of note took place during the sail other than the fact that the wind did exactly what was forecast; a hiccup in the matrix I’m sure, as that almost never happens. The coolest part of it was silently sailing through Wasp Passage with the gentle breeze and a current pushing us along at the speed of a amusement part boat ride through a scenic canyon. It wasn’t until we pointed North to head into West Sound that our resolve to keep sailing faltered and we dropped-canvas to just-get-there-already. Skull Island was our destination {insert pirate “ar” here}.

With the anchor thrown overboard we got right to the activities of nothing much at all. Kerri did row out a few yards from Meriwether to launch an attack on the local crabs. I kept hands off the whole ordeal, choosing instead to watch and support from the safety of Meriwether’s cockpit. Thanks to an old chicken carcass from meals long past, the crab trap came up with yet another meal in hand. A carcass put to good use I must say.

The only other thing interrupting near total lethargy was a visit to Skull Island just a few yards to our East. Our trusty dinghy got us around the tiny island to the only patch of sand we could dismount. From there it didn’t take long to tour the entire rock by foot, finding nothing much other than a nice view of our boat in Massacre Bay.

A few days later we were arriving back at Friday Harbor to shower, fill our stores of food and firewood, fix the fridge, and wait out another gale force wind event hitting the area. Since there is always a long list of to-do’s that can only be done at port, there is little time to relax when tied to a dock. We were cutting the lines once again just two days after arrival, on our way to more adventures in our future.

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