It’s my turn at bow watch. I look to the sides, then straight ahead as the ship motors through water smooth as glass. The morning mist still hangs on the deeply forested islands surrounding us and the rising sun shimmers on the water like a million sparkling diamonds. A cool breeze blows gently through my hair, and I breathe deeply, filling my lungs with the clean air of the Salish Sea. Content, I’m mesmerized by the beauty of the San Juan Islands. There’s something peaceful about being here on this classic schooner in a part of the country that I’ve longed to visit.
But that calm is quickly shattered when the First Mate barks out “Sailing stations, all hands on deck!” It’s time to raise the mainsail. Everyone scrambles to their assigned stations on deck, working as a team to sail this 218-tonne boat.
I’m here aboard the Schooner Zodiac, a historic tall ship that sails out of Bellingham, Washington. She’s a beautifully restored windjammer with the classic grandeur of a 1920s billionaire’s yacht. With room for just 49 passengers, we’re headed to the San Juan Islands for three nights and four days.
Assigned “sailing stations” and guided by the Captain, the First Mate and a team of experienced volunteer sailors, passengers are encouraged to take an active part in sailing. And that is why I’m here. A passenger on many sailing trips but never a sailor, I’ve always wanted to learn how to sail.
Weighing 272 kg, the mainsail is 372 square metres of canvas. The deck spans a length of 39 metres. Perhaps I should have picked a smaller boat for my first lesson in sailing. But I’m fit, I’m strong and I’m learning to sail at 62.
On this journey, passengers rotate through a two-hour watch shift by taking turns attending four different half-hour stations for running a tall ship: (1) manning the helm, (2) reading charts to plot the ship’s course, (3) keeping watch on deck at the bow, and (4) messengering at the stern by the wheel. At all stations, participating passengers are carefully guided by an experienced crew member.
By the end of four days, if we’ve participated, we’ll know the basics of sailing and its terminology. Hoisting the sails is hard work, but exhilarating. At first, I’m part of the “sweat and tail” team, working together to pull the rope that raises the mainsail. Once the mainsail is hoisted and the lines secured, we’re told to stand down and resume our watch sequence. Proud of our morning’s work, we’re enjoying the majesty of tall ship sailing.
We sail all day. The weather is divine. The strong wind fills the firm sails. In the shrouds, lines moan under tension in their blocks. The large, two-and-a-half cm thick ropes, stretched and lashed to marlinspikes at one end, groan under pressure as the sea gently tosses the ship, creating a constant tautness of line against flowing wind and stable wooden block. Despite glorious sunshine and a cloudless sky, as the wind increases our speed under full sail, we need a jacket to deal with the cold wind rushing across the deck.
In the afternoon, we head to Spieden Island known for its wildlife. In the 1960s, when two taxidermist brothers purchased the island and imported several species of exotic animals and birds from around the world, it became a hunting preserve for a short time. Today, some of the wildlife, including Moulflon sheep of Corsica and Sika deer of Asia, remain. If you travel there by boat, you can see them grazing on the island’s grassy slopes.
But it’s my turn at the helm. As we cross the currents, they push the boat back and forth from left to right, and I am struggling. The First Mate gives me a command. I look at him and ask, “What? You want me to parallel park this thing alongside that island?” I’m pretty sure I had the most stressful shift that day. “Turn hard right, fast,” barked the First Mate, Henry. The currents were strong. Maybe he wasn’t nervous, but I was. “Are you sure you want me at the helm of this boat,” I asked. “What if I crash this thing?”
But the First Mate is calm, and we easily pull up along Spieden before heading off to Parks Bay on Shaw Island. Once again, the First Mate announces, “Sailing stations, all hands on deck!” It’s time to lower the sails. I find myself down on one knee helping to lower the mainsail by feeding the rope to my partner as fast as I can. Next, it’s time to climb up on the mainsail’s boom and start pulling up the canvas. We’ll fold the sail and secure it before motoring into our quiet cove and dropping anchor for the night.
Other boats, large and small yachts, are doing the same thing. Sheltered by land on three sides, the greenish-blue waters of the cove are calm and reassuring.
For our work on deck as “sailors,” we’re rewarded daily with three square meals, featuring a variety of freshly caught and prepared Pacific Northwest regional seafood. Steamed Dungeness crab, lemon grilled whole trout, seafood cioppino, every meal is a gourmet surprise. Caz, the onboard cook (I would call her a “chef”) prides herself with creating a different gourmet menu every day, never serving the same dish twice to her grateful passengers.
Sitting together on the schooner deck, I chat with the crew and other guests while watching the sun meet the sea on the western horizon, transforming our vista into brilliant, multicoloured hues. With a glass of wine in hand, we savour the day, discussing what we’ve learned about sailing this classic boat.
In the morning, when the breeze is up and the sails are full, we’re ready for another day’s adventure. We’ll visit the green-fir-tree-fringed bays of San Juan Island today.
We repeat this delightful experience for three more days. Our journey includes stops at a winery on Lopez Island and a distillery on San Juan Island. Twice we encounter pods of playful orca whales. Oblivious to us, they rambunctiously flip their tales and slap their dorsal fins against the water.
On our last day aboard, we rise for one more gourmet breakfast of salmon quiche. With winds too calm to raise sails, we sailors-in-training happily assume our turn in the day’s watch sequence rotation as we motor back to Fairhaven, Bellingham.
As I reflect on my experience, I discover a timeless value. It’s not just the hard, physical work of hoisting sails or wrestling the helm through rip tide currents, but the reward that comes from such a personal and genuine nautical adventure. Seafaring is a fully lived lifestyle, striving for personal excellence, while working with a team in tight quarters. We were successful at sailing this tall ship through Washington’s pristine Salish Sea and its magical San Juan Islands. I was successful, learning to sail at 62.
There’s something about the slow, unfolding of time at sea, with the perennial horizon almost a metaphor juxtaposed to the firm, aged sturdiness of this tall ship. It took me back to a time when I imagined all sailors, including old salts and the newly trained, would want to sail on forever.
Later, walking back to my hotel to pick up bags I left behind, I smile to feel the sway of the ocean still in my legs. And then I understand why people fall in love with tall ships and never want to see a place any other way.
If you go:
A delightful hotel in the historic Fairhaven District, the Fairhaven Village Inn at 1200 10th Street, is just a 10-minute walk from the Bellingham Cruise Terminal where the Schooner Zodiac docks. The Inn’s handsomely decorated rooms are some of the most spacious hotel rooms we’ve enjoyed, and the Inn’s owners, Connie and Gene Shannon, take special care to make sure your stay is delightful.
For breakfast before you sail, stop in at the delicious Magdalena’s Crêperie, next door to the Inn. A uniquely European-styled restaurant, it serves a diverse selection of Polish foods, and specializes in sweet and savory crêpes.
Bellingham, Washington is a short car, bus or train ride from Vancouver or Seattle. Bellingham International Airport is serviced by Alaska Airlines. For more on Bellingham, visit Bellingham.org
For Zodiac rates and schedule, visit SchoonerZodiac.com
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Wow! This story made me want to go there! Great article, and nicely written.