Bainbridge Island Marathon

The marine forecast for the day of this event was partly cloudy, temperatures in the 60's, winds from the northeast at 10 to 20 knots, and wind waves from 1 to 3 feet.

Crossing the Sound on the ferry from Seattle to Bainbridge Island, the waves seemed to be mostly in the 3 foot range, with white caps quite frequently making appearances.

I wasn't sure that I was feeling up to a 26.2 mile race. My spirits were a bit low due to some personal matters during the preceding week, but decided that a long time out on the water might be just the thing to perk me up. There is nothing like pain, agony and utter exhaustion to push out thoughts of anything else! :-)



I was somewhat behind the others in getting my boat into the water. The expanse of beach logs made it impossible to roll my boat on its dolly to the beach from the parking lot, so I had assistance carrying it from one of the other racers. A few trips back and forth from the car to the shore carrying all the paraphernalia and safety equipment slowed me further. Oh, well. So much for taking photos during the warmup!

In the boat I placed a couple of bottles of water, some Gatorade, a tube of sunscreen, an IP station, a new and different sweat band, my favorite Sound Rowers hat and a heart rate monitor chest belt. Being rushed I figured that I could put that belt on later. Attached to my PFD were a cell phone in a waterproof pouch and a VHF walkie talkie in a waterproof pouch. Around my neck was the camera, a Konica-Minolta DiMAGE A-1, also in a waterproof pouch. In my shirt pockets were several Power Bars of different flavors. Hey - this was going to be a 4+ hour race, and I would definitely be needing something to keep my energy levels high!

On my head I wore a sweat band and a cap that shaded my eyes, ears and the back of my neck. It was a little cool, so it also helped to keep me warm. I'd switch to the SR cap if/when I got hot, or just take it off.


The waves were breaking more or less parallel to the shore. With the tide at the extreme low level all the plants that were normally out of the way under water were doing their best to snag the boat and my sandals. Pedaling in reverse heading away from the shore into waves seemed to be the best way to get into deeper water, but it was pretty slow going. I finally got far enough away from shore to pedal forward and turn around. Gee, this was going to be a rough ride!



I did my best to take shots of the other folks warming up in the few moments before they lined up for the start. With all the waves and the angle of the sun, however, it was difficult to take any decent shots. Later on I discovered that some of the camera dials had changed and most of these shots were unusable.

The start signal was given and we were off! Well, everyone but me. Prior to wading out in the water for launching I had removed my socks. Twenty six miles of soggy socks didn't appeal to me, so it was time to put the nice, dry socks back on. Of course, this meant I was immediately in last place, a condition I hoped to change fairly soon.

Pedaling onward at last, I soon reached the south end of Fay Bainbridge Park. The water seemed to have a fair number of patches of floating weeds. The winds had apparently blown all the floating weed patches that had been scattered across the Sound and collected them on the east side of the island, right in my path. It was rather frustrating to pedal along at 6+ mph and then get slowed down due to entanglement.

Pedaling in reverse generally cleared the propeller, but it was a nuisance, especially with the waves hitting the boat from the stern quarter. It took some effort to maintain my balance and, though the shoreline was rather pretty, I felt no guilt from not taking photos during this time.

The waves were generally in the 3 foot size, with periods where reflections from the shore made for a muddled mess of water. I was able to surf a few times, with the GPS reporting speeds over 10 mph, which ended with the bow planting itself in the back of the preceding wave as I turned towards the shore in order to keep upright. It didn't help that the clipless sandals were also not doing a great job of staying clipped to the pedals, either.

It was more fun to pedal across the wave tops when the water was muddled, as it was as though I was traveling down a river. The speed was augmented by gravity (there was a slight downslope) and there was no extra effort needed to keep upright. Yee-hah!

I was gaining on the stragglers as well as the safety boat, and nearing Skiff Point when it happened. Surfing down a large wave I turned the boat a little too slowly and was pedaling a little too slowly. The port stern quarter was lifted by the wave and since I didn't counteract it adequately, I slowly tipped over. Rats!

Everything not lashed to the boat or to me immediately either sank to the bottom or started floating away. Goodbye hat, brand new sweatband, sunscreen, water bottles, Gatorade, power bars, heart rate belt, etc.! The Shimano sandals that were having troubles staying clipped to the pedals while the boat was upright were having no problems staying clipped to the pedals while the boat was upside down. This wasn't a severe problem as my PFD was keeping my head above the water; rather, it just delayed me getting back under way.

After a few moments I was able to extricate my sandals from the pedals. I turned the boat upright and took stock of the situation.

All I could see around the boat were the seat pads, which I gathered up and tossed in the boat. The waves were probably obscuring all my other stuff that might still be floating, so I figured that once under way I'd circle around and see if anything else could be found.

I tried reentering the boat as I had done many times before, along the cockpit. Just as I lunged and swung my legs into the boat the VHF, cell phone and camera pouches swung into my way and a wave knocked me over again.

Okay, let's try it with the boat pointed into the wind. Again, as I tried to enter the cockpit the pouches got in the way, and while I was trying to get them out of the way the wind and waves had swung the boat around and another wave knocked me over again.

By this time the safety boat noticed something was not quite right and they began turning around to head back to me. Also, along the shore several hundred feet away I noticed a man watching me who was probably concerned with my well being in that upper 50-something degree water.

I tried again. This time the seat cushion was thrown a bit further upwind of the boat and out of my reach.

Since I'd rather not lose the cushion I figured that I could swim over to it and back to the boat. With the memory very strongly in my mind about troubles that kayakers have had with letting go of their boats in the water to get something and then not being able to swim fast enough to catch their boat as the winds and waves pushed it away, I for some reason did not grab the bow line so conveniently located on my boat. Instead, I just let go of the boat for a moment, making a mental calculation as to how fast the boat was pulled away from me, and swam to get the cushion.

Well, the boat seemed to pick up speed and was floating pretty fast away from me.

With more than a few strong kicks, trying to overcome the drag of those darned pouches, I barely managed to catch the boat. Whew! Perhaps I was getting a bit hypothermic after all!

Twice more I tried to get in the boat. Each time had the same results.

For whatever reason I didn't want to take the VHF, camera and cell phone pouches off and somehow lash them to the boat. Instead, I decided that perhaps the best thing was to head to shore, with my upper body across the gunwales of the boat and my legs kicking.

The folks in the safety boat were using their oars now. I wasn't sure why until later, when I found out their outboard motor had died and wouldn't start. They managed to reach me just as I was able to stand up on the bottom, trying to keep my boat from being bashed onto the rocky cobble beach by the surf. It took me a while to decide what to do next.

I finally decided that I was done for the day. With no extra water or food, and all the energy spent in self rescue attempts I wouldn't do very well if I tried to racing. If I had troubles getting back in the boat now, I would also likely have troubles later on and possibly in less hospitable conditions. Sigh...

The man on the shore who had been watching came to my aid. He and I carried the boat out of the surf. With the help of some other folks - including a local fire department officer who had arrived on the scene - we carried the boat up to the road.

I got a ride back to Fay Bainbridge Park. Thank you, Bainbridge Fire Department!

I wasn't feeling especially cold. The PFD had been providing quite a bit of insulation, and the nylon shirts I had been wearing helped, too. Still, it felt good back at the car to wash off the salt water and change into dry clothing.


Since the conditions along the east side of Bainbridge were so challenging it was decided to have the short course start at Fay Bainbridge and head around the west side of the island.


The thought of pedaling in the short course almost, sort of, crossed my mind, but was immediately discarded. Instead, I took pictures from the shore of the start. The water seemed to be quite a bit calmer than earlier.


The safety boat and its crew decided to land at the same place I did, so on my drive back to pick up my boat a couple of other race officials followed along to collect the safety boat and their crew.

We returned to Fay Bainbridge and had lunch. The clam chowder and fresh bread were very tasty!


After lunch I headed to Fort Ward State Park at the other end of the island to pick up another racer who bailed.


At Fort Ward the conditions were relatively nice, warm and peaceful. I hung around for a bit taking photos as the finishers of the short course arrived one by one. Apparently the west side of the island was also fairly challenging. Each of the rowing shells had quite a bit of water in their cockpits. One even managed to collect a shrimp!



Shortly after returning to Fay Bainbridge with the rower and his shell the awards ceremony was started. As expected from the conditions no records were broken except, perhaps, for the number of DNF's (did not finish). Oh, well.

Methinks I'm going to have to figure out a way to secure those waterproof pouches to the boat, and still have ready access to them!