Why the quietest months are the best time to sail the islands, and why it is colder out there than it has any right to be.
I have winter camped in the Boundary Waters of northern Minnesota at twenty below. Somehow sailing in the San Juans in winter feels colder. It is the damp, and the wind off the water, and the fact that you are sitting still holding a tiller instead of hauling a sled.
And still we go, because winter is when the islands belong to the people who live there. The anchorages are empty, the marinas have room, and the light comes in low and gold across the water for most of the day.
How we do it
Short days mean short hops. We plan legs that finish by mid-afternoon, keep a close eye on the forecast for southeasterly gales, and pick harbours with a dock and a hot drink at the end. Layers are everything: wool next to the skin, a puffy on top, a proper shell over that, and a dry bag for the spare set.
The reward is evenings like the one at Rosario on Orcas Island: the boat tied up and the moon coming up over the marina.
Words and photographs by Vendovi.
