Swell! Open ocean again and arriving in Newport

**Here is the second in the series I'm working on, starting on September 8.**

   
      We stayed two nights in Port Angeles, getting our breath back after such a long time at the dock and working on Kyrie. We had a few little things to take care of, like adjusting the turnbuckles on the rigging--they were too tight--and changing up our flag halyards. Joe also filled our fuel jugs up and we enjoyed the Port Angeles Farmers' Market on Saturday. Sunday morning, it was time to depart. Much to our delight, it looked like the weather would cooperate and allow to us to leave Neah Bay Monday morning to start our trek down to Newport. At first it looked like we could be stuck there for about four days, but weather systems being fickle as they are, this one changed on us, allowing an earlier departure. Yay!
         However, we still had to get to Neah Bay. It was a long slog. The wind of course was against us, but the current was with us. So, we were whipping along at 6.5-7 knots, but the wind stacked up the waves, so we had to tack along the Strait. Then the fog rolled in and the radar had to be used again. Not a very exciting day, but we managed to get into Neah Bay around 5:00. Unfortunately it was too late in the day to explore the town. I had wanted to see the museum in Neah Bay, but no such luck. Through the fog, we could see some of the town and a couple of other sailboats anchored out not far from us.
           It was still foggy the next morning, but clearing a little bit. The weather report called for fog around Cape Flattery, but clearing later in the day, so it was time to go. Anchor up and back into the Strait one last time... That was a very long day, although pretty uneventful. There was hardly any wind and it was foggy a fair bit. We had prepared ourselves for a long trip--the nav computer said our travel time to Newport would be about 45 hours--and most of that first day was adjusting to being at sea again. Poor Megan got seasick for a while at first, but after a few "eruptions" and a nap, she emerged her usual cheerful self.
            That first night was weird. It was foggy again and no wind, so we definitely couldn't sail. We were 25-30 miles off the coast, so there was hardly any traffic that showed up on AIS. It was a little eerie, knowing we were five hours from the beach and most likely no landing point. At one point, I could see the glow of a big yacht traveling just inland from us, as well as the sodium lights from a fishing boat later on, but that was all. Yup, definitely eerie to have that all alone feeling, especially when it's the middle of the night and the rest of your crew is sound asleep! I made the most of it, listening to music on my phone and having my own private dance party while sitting in the helm seat!

Our first tuna caught
on Kyrie--hopefully
the first of many!

             The second day was a lot better. The skies cleared, the sun came out and we could actually see land. Joe and I were tired, but we got naps and Levi even took an hour's helm watch so we could relax. Joe decided we were far enough out and rigged up our handline, hoping to catch something. After about two hours, he noticed something was on it and hauled in a definite prize--an albacore tuna! It was probably about 15-20 pounds and everyone was excited! The girls watched while Joe cleaned it and got to feel for themselves that tuna are warm-blooded. Certainly a strange sensation! Fried tuna for brunch that morning was delicious! We also had a feathered hitchhiker that day--a pine siskin must have been blown out to sea and landed on our deck. It hopped laps around the deck for close to an hour, finding bugs to eat. Evidently it felt stronger after that hour because it took off. I hope the little creature made it safely back to shore....

Our feathery hitchhiker.

               One more night's run. It wasn't nearly as foggy, but we had moved closer to shore, so there were plenty of fishing boats to watch out for. We passed a fleet that must have been fishing for squid because the area was lit up like a football stadium! 5:00 am saw us about three miles off the Newport jetty. As there was no way Joe wanted to approach a strange harbor in the dark, he killed the motor, but left all our running lights on and drifted for about an hour. I actually woke up when the motor stopped since it sounded so different. Once it was closer to sunrise, Joe fired the motor back up and turned our bows toward the entrance buoys. Just as Kyrie neared the opening of the jetties, we had to detour slightly--a giant gray whale had decided the Yaquina Bay entrance was a perfect spot to sleep! After veering around it, we were able to enter the jetties and carefully pass the dredge that was hard at work. 7:00 am saw us managing to get tied up in a convenient slip and crashing for a two-hour nap, promising to call the harbor office when we woke up and moving if we really had to. We had arrived at last!

There's the Yaquina Bay bridge. What a
welcome sight after a 45-hour run!