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NASTY SURPRISE IN PEAVINE PASS
By John Worl
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May 12, 2004. I have read Waggoner for five or six years now and enjoy it tremendously. It truly is (one of) our bibles and we keep a current edition both on board and at home. One of the notes I remember from my first edition -- about 1999 or so -- was on "Crossing Rosario Strait" and how it can be tough in rough weather. I recall your description of leaving through Peavine Pass to cross and go down in the lee of the eastern Islands (Cypress Island, Guemes Island). But I didn't read any really cautionary information on Peavine Pass itself.
On November 11, 2003 two colleagues and I were returning to Anacortes Marina from a business retreat at Deer Harbor. The weather was winter-idillic, clear and a bit crisp, with frost on the docks and light winds early. The weatherperson-in-the-box (Channel 4, my personal favorite) was calling for N-NW winds in the 20-25-knot range with small craft advisories.
When we left the docks at Deer Harbor the situation was nearly calm winds and clear air. We cruised without problem through Pole Pass and headed south of Orcas Island into that beautiful large "bay" formed by the islands. As we made our way toward our normal exit/entry point, Thatcher Pass, we couldn't help but take notice of the white caps inside the islands. Hmmm . . . remembering the advice (some of it) from the Waggoner, we decided to head north for Peavine Pass. We would cut across Rosario Strait on a more northerly course and at a point of shorter fetch for the waves. The currents didn't seem to be too bad. At noon that day the currents would be about 1.5 knots in Rosario Strait on a flood (northerly flow) and about the same in Peavine Pass. Peavine Pass floods NNE out of the islands, and ebbs into the islands WNW (interesting).
The scene is set. We were motoring at about 7 knots in our Camano Troll -- a very stable but somewhat light vessel -- and the three of us were observing and contemplating the crossing of Rosario Strait. Through the glasses we see whitecaps across the strait indicating waves in the 3-4 foot range, we presumed -- not too much for the Camano, of course -- and we could take them at about a 30-40 degree angle on the port bow. It would be a safe but "interesting" crossing for one of our collegues who didn't have much boating experience under his belt.
As we got closer to Peavine Pass we got an ever-better picture of Rosario Strait and the whitecaps, which still didn't look too intimidating for boat or crew. Everyone was using the glasses to check out the ride we would have about a half-mile ahead, a ride that would extend for several miles across the strait. Very few whitecaps where we were, but plenty of white water outside Peavine Pass -- plenty to get fixated on.
Then we hit it. Or perhaps it hit us. About midpoint in Peavine Pass, WHAM! I thought we were in the surf. Waves -- many of them topping 6 feet -- head-on to us. We were getting slammed. The waves weren't breaking (thank the Good Lord who watches after fools) but they were very steep and very close together. We pulled back to about 5 knots over ground (or 4 knots through the water) and hung on.
There was no real warning, due to the lack of breaking action and our fixation on the strait ahead. We quickly decided that turning around would be difficult and probably dangerous. Turning in 6-foot and higher steep swells in a relatively narrow-beamed boat is not conducive to good health. We pressed on and pulled through unscathed. Once out of the swells we assessed our options and decided to continue across Rosario Strait and down the smoother waters of Bellingham Channel. On the way we gave the helm to our newest sailor. He did a great job in getting across the strait, and as the most susceptable to mal de mer his having something to do, something to concentrate on, kept him feeling both useful and healthy.
Lessons learned: plenty. The key item is that Peavine Pass can be wicked when wind and current oppose each other, and without warning. In fact, it is amazing how little current it can take to do this. Last, when approaching passes that limit your options, take the few minutes necessary to evaluate the situation immediately in front of the boat, not just the risks 10 or 20 or more minutes up the road.v
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