We knew when we moved back onto Lake Union from Shilshole Bay Marina that we were giving up the one big thing that had convinced us to move out onto the salt in the first place: an extra hour of sailing time each way going in or out that would otherwise be spent transiting the locks and dealing with three sometimes recalcitrant bascule bridges that had to be opened in order for us to fit beneath.
Since we tend to take a few relatively long trips each year rather than a lot of shorter ones, we judged it to be a good trade, and it has been. But on those days when the Ship Canal dance becomes particularly funky, that doesn’t really make it any less annoying. That hour that is typical between leaving our dock on Lake Union and hitting the first shreds of salt water in the Shilshole Bay Entrance Range can stretch, at the whim of timing or malfunction, into a lot more than that.
Such was the case coming back through last Monday evening after our Thanksgiving sail to Port Hadlock.
We’ve been trapped seaward of the Ballard Bridge before when it broke and couldn’t open, and we’ve waited 45 minutes in the rain for Bridge 4 to open because we caught them during a shift change, but Monday was mostly just a case of cutting things too tight. While the locks are available 24/7 and Bridge 4 is happy to open any time a train isn’t coming, the freshwater spans operated by the city of Seattle are a special case: due to a dispensation from the Coast Guard, they are not required to open to non-emergency marine traffic between 7am and 9am and 4pm and 6pm most weekdays (many non-boaters, and a few mariners, are surprised to learn that federal law gives right-of-way, by default, to marine traffic; as a condition for the bridges to even be built across [and obstruct] the navigable channel, the city is generally required to open them to any vessel passing by. Apart from these, and certain other, exceptions granted by the Coast Guard, operators risk one year in prison and a fine of not less than $1000 if they fail to open!).
We were coming back on a weekday, and to catch some currents just right, we left ourselves too thin a margin to catch both the Ballard and Fremont spans before 4pm. Usually, if that’s the case, we’ll just slow it down, or enjoy ourselves sailing around Shilshole, or stop off for a Green River shake at Little Coney’s. But this time was one of the worst: when you MIGHT be able to make it if everything goes just right. We decided to roll the dice and head in to the lake.
It was a close thing; Bridge 4 popped right up for us, but the lock operators were embroiled with a complex commercial vessel dropping in the large lock when we showed up, and we had the bad luck to catch the small lock in the high position, so when they finished up in the large lock we still had to wait for the small lock to drain. Then we made a less-than-smooth entry, followed by a small commercial boat that made an even less-smooth entry than ourselves.
All of these antics ate up time, and by the time we were clearing the Salmon Bay side of the lock, it was about 3:45. Ballard, we could get past, but by the time we got to Fremont, we’d be well into the witching hour.
Even this might not be so terrible, though the temperature was dropping, and rain and snow were in the forecast, and we wanted nothing so much after a long day sailing to be tied up and plugged in at our own slip. The Ship Canal can be an interesting place to explore for a couple hours. If you don’t learn to make the best of a bad turn of luck or weather when sailing, you don’t enjoy it very long.
But this night was different: the Seahawks were playing the Saints on Monday Night Football, in Seattle. The Saints, under Drew Brees, had never lost a Monday night game. The ‘hawks, under Russell Wilson, had never lost at home. Irresistible force, meet immovable object. Must-See-TV, even for folks who don’t own a TV. When I looked at the clock and then up the long, long stretch of water between us and the Fremont Bridge, I began to despair.
Somewhere in the back of my head, though, a plan began to emerge.
“Hey, Mandy,” I said, throttling back as we neared the Ballard Bridge. “Why don’t you check and see if Fisherman’s Terminal has any transient moorage?”
My wife ducked below and consulted our stockpile of marina guides. A short while later, her head popped up out of the companionway.
“You can tie up four hours for free on the south wall between docks eight and nine.”
This, in case you have never been to Fisherman’s Terminal, is right in front of Chinook’s; Chinook’s, of course, has a bar. With televisions. I was willing to bet that there wasn’t going to be any bar in Seattle that night that didn’t have the game on (The Highliner, just around the corner from Chinook’s, was another option, and probably one with a better football atmosphere; it had the drawback, though, however minor, that we couldn’t see the boat right out the window the whole time, as we could in Chinook’s).
So we gave the Ballard Bridge a pass, hooked a right, and nosed our way into the transient float at Fisherman’s Terminal, which was otherwise entirely unoccupied. The rain began to fall as we were changing into street clothes and securing the boat. By kickoff, we were already settled in with drinks and a couple of exquisite Happy Hour cheeseburgers to take the edge off the day. By half-time, we’d also managed to squeeze down a delectable bread pudding for dessert.
Thirty-four to seven later (Seahawks, of course), and well after the bridges were again opening for marine traffic, we motored casually back down the canal onto the lake and tied up for a warm and comfortable evening in our own slip. We even missed the worst of the rain.
Of course, that’s a trick that only works if you happen to be seaward of Ballard when the clock ticks down. If you’re on Lake Union, heading for the Sound, you also have a number of good public dock and/or dining options, including Ivar’s, Chandler’s Cove, or the West Wall at Lake Union Park.
But that stretch in between Ballard and Fremont is a tricky one. There is the 14th Street Boat Launch on the north side in Ballard, but I’m not sure about the depths at the piers (the city helpfully lists tie-ups available at various public parks and ramps on a website here).
I don’t intend to ever get pinned down in there, but these things happen. The next time it’s getting late and there’s a big Monday night game on, I want to have my options planned out. If anyone has anything that beats my current Plan B of having Mandy run the boat in circles while I dinghy ashore and hustle up to Mike’s Chili Parlor, I’m all ears.