Salish 100
Little Boats, Grand Adventure
There’s a strange phenomenon happening in the parking lot of the Olympia port on this mid July afternoon. A baker's dozen of assorted small boats gathered in the public docks. A candy colored selection of well-kept little vessels that become the first look at the fleet of boats taking part in the 2026 Salish 100. One of many events put on by Northwest Maritime, an organization based out of Port Townsend, with a focus on community learning and exploration through maritime settings. The Salish 100 is a Cruise/Rally starting in Olympia, Washington. Over the course of a few days this fleet navigates up the entirety of the Puget Sound - to Port Townsend, a beautiful Victorian town on the North end of the Olympic Peninsula. However, all participants must be in a boat or vessel with a total length of 22 feet or less. I took part in this event with my dad, sharing a 19 foot Hunter sailboat for the duration of the trip.
The busywork in the parking lot of putting up masts and finishing up the final rigging made for a fashion runway of sorts as boats floated off trailers and into the marina, and all the vessels found their places for the evening. The first night on the docks in Olympia gave way to a beautiful cloudy evening as everyone settled in and got a good tour of the various boats taking part in this year's rally.
A walk around downtown Olympia and dinner overlooking the downtown pier was a perfect start to this trip. After some time spent walking the working waterfront of Washington’s capital city, the sun dipped down on the shoreline and the wild nature of the Olympic peninsula became evident.
As cranes and muskrats crossing each other's path with a nod and a flap of feathers replace the sea of pedestrians walking the street. I had the chance to sit with a Crane underneath a local radio station that was built over the water of the Budd Inlet. I managed to sit with the bird for around 45 minutes before it flew off into the darkness that floated above the water. I’m not the biggest on omens but I believe they have their place in a maritime setting. After we shared a moment under the pier like two bored high schoolers, it flapped its wings and flew off into the night - message received - good tidings from here on out.
On the topic of omens I made the flag we flew on our boat as a good luck charm. I honestly might’ve refused to do the trip without it. On one side Kurt Russel as Captain Ron, tastefully cyanotyped onto canvas and hand grommeted, and on the other the phrase “si fiet, ibi fiet" or “if it will happen, it will happen out there,” A piece of advice that has followed me and my dad on our many trips through the years.
It was a beautiful cloudy morning as we started out from the Port of Olympia. The first day traveling backed up my thinking of good omens, as the sailing out of the capital proved to be a stunning sight of color and life, birds racing off the surface and welcoming us into the waters of the Pacific Northwest. Slipping past the tide markers and into the sound, we floated into Henderson inlet for the evening, and the fleet gathered on the shore for music and fresh clams. As the fiddles dithered down and the guitar grew gradually silent the sunset played the headline show of the evening.
Awaking the next day with Longbranch improvement club marina in our sights we set out across the nisqually reach. This was the first sighting of porpoises on this trip, though they remained elusive enough to remain unpictured - better luck next time it seems. The entirety of the water was full of life however, just below the surface was spackled with jellyfish drifting through the sound as we sailed by the south end of the greater Long Branch peninsula. With harbor seals consistently popping their heads up to see us floating by as we made our way up the water.
Arriving at Long Branch Improvement Club Marina, dock slips were a going commodity, with most spots being double if not triple stacked for the evening. If one finds themself wanting some elbow room it might be best to anchor out. The marina itself, despite lacking the labyrinthian nature of some of the other marinas, was one of my favorite stops of the trip. The cozy dock situation and the lively feel of the marina itself all added to the stunning show that Mt. Rainier put on, when it shed the cloud cover for the next day or so. Waking up to catch the sunrise here was another great decision. There was a stunning quiet of the water and the birds. I sat until the pancakes and coffee started to be made up later by a member of the Long Branch Marina.
Heading out through the Balch passage head on to rainier, the sights were stunning as the water started to open up and show its true scale for the first time, miles of glassy blue liquid as we made our way up the Tacoma Narrows. The wind and currents eventually picked up to a “sporty” level in the latter half of the day, but for me and my dad that’s usually when we start to actually enjoy it. The sailing up through the narrows was indescribable. Having driven over the bridge countless times traveling up to the Olympic Peninsula, it was a surreal moment to see the underbelly of this twin steel beast, the small boats being absolutely dwarfed by its colossal pylons.
Finishing up the day in Gig Harbor, we moored at Arabella’s landing for the evening which was incredibly accommodating with all of the creature comforts one would want and more. After we settled in and found the obligatory pizza and beer, we gathered at gig harbor boat shop for barbecue and beer, because despite having prepared for this trip with a very survivorman mentality, when one finds themselves moored a block away from wood fired pizza and craft ipa, frankly it’s a crime not to partake. Gig Harbor quiets down pretty early, so after a walk around gig harbor we settled in on the docks once again. The dim glow of the boat lights across the water in the evening can’t be understated, the soft jangle of halyards and the soft cacophony of birds made for an incredibly relaxing night at the marina..
About a dozen canned coffees into the trip now and we set out into the main of the sound by way of the colvos passage. Northbound to Blake Island, another good day of wind made for easy work of dodging the first ferry traffic we encountered on this trip - a precursor to the reality that these waters are capable of housing a lot more than a few 19 foot pine veneer cruisers. The monstrous wake from some of these ferries combined with wind chop and other traffic wash can make for some rodeo-like sailing if you find yourself taking the east side around Blake island. Moorage on the southeast buoys just off the crescent shaped beach can be incredibly roll-y in a monohull so it may be best to take the west or south moorage opportunity though west is closer to general facilities.
I took the opportunity to walk around Blake island as much as I could. In the center of the island, overhead ferns lay off the side of well kept paths. The island ring trail, though only about 3 miles, is quite hilly and properly kicked my ass hauling a camera bag, although incredibly worth it for the views. The sunset off of the northwest point, providing almost 360° of awe inspiring color and calmness as you turn and see the full of the Seattle skyline to the east and the sunset over the Olympics to the west. After sunset started to fade I found myself hiking back to camp through the allegedly “raccoon Infested” islands woods. I personally didn’t see any of the rodent perpetrators of stories past but I’ll chalk that up to dumb luck, especially considering the half bag of cookies in my backpack.
Awaking on Blake island we set sail for the port city of Kingston. While not a rather exciting day of sailing, it was still quite the show on the main front of the puget sound. Starting our morning with beautiful sun rays over the Seattle skyline across the main channel followed by a stare down with a legend class coast guard cutter in full ribbons, sporting two gun boats in close proximity. It was an incredibly unique day on the water, after a short while we hear Seattle traffic control over the main channel radio, “main traffic channel will be closed from 3:30 to 5:30 to make way for the USS Cincinnati”, a 418 foot trimaran destroyer making its way down the shipping lane and into the Seattle harbor for a celebration. Sharing the water with this beast was an eye opening moment to the level of presence these ships have on the ocean. A hulking mass of brutal angles and defensive geometry. It looked more like a bunker that got pulled out of the ground and placed upon a high tech barge than a ship designed for a day on the water.
After the show on the main channel was over we arrived at the port of Kingston, and were served a celebration in the main park of town. Food stalls and a beer garden were set up, a great way to beat the heat walking around Kingston, as there’s a plethora of shops and restaurants. We decided on Sourdough Willys pizza, and it was maybe the best decision on the trip, a true standout of pizza prowess amongst the ungodly amount of sauce on bread me and my dad consumed on this journey. After stashing our leftovers on the boat we settled in for the evening and hunkered down in the boat, falling asleep to the calm sounds of the northern pacific as the sun-soaked clouds of the evening washed into stars over the fleet.
Starting with Crêpes and coffee from a French style cafe in the morning, we filled our extra gas cans for the final couple legs of the Salish 100. The last few steps of the journey proved to be some of the more memorable on the water, starting our way out of Kingston we made our way out around point no-point and followed around Foulweather bluff and we’re shown the true scale of the puget sound and it’s traffic, massive gravel barges with material piled 60 feet high on boats that could house most of your friends and family, interlaced with 400 foot container ships, mowing their way into the bay like a truck driver into a Sinclair stop - just with an extra 30 million tons of steel and diesel. Seeing one of these steel behemoths from the shore is already enough to be impressed by, but it gives a true sense of their scale to share the water with one in a 19 foot boat as the just the wake piling off of this leviathans bow could easily be a couple feet taller than our entire vessel if not avoided with some great leeway and care. The water became a true taste of the ocean. The sailing conditions around foulweather bluff are enough to make even the saltier of anyone hold onto their britches and consider their future in the rodeo. These little boats bobbed up and down, fighting just to make headway into the shadow of the point and into Port Ludlow for the evening. After earning our “maritime merit badges” the fleet was settling into an evening of stories of the trip and another feast organized by the coordinators of the event, we were treated to a gorgeous sunset over the peak of mount constance and settled in on the docks with the seals as the stars coated the sky above the fleet.
Starting our day on the last leg of our journey, the wind was finally truly at our back - a downwind run - almost the whole fleet running wing-on-wing as they made their way to port Townsend for the final stop of the journey. Up through oak bay and into the canal, the wind gave a strong farewell session as we pulled into Port Hudson marina for the finish of the 2026 Salish 100. As we weaved between the different ships anchored out in the bay of what truly feels like the maritime capital of Washington, to see the love and attention to every detail of some of these watercraft was such a sight. Not to mention downtown in Port Townsend, hosting a variety of local artistry and other businesses. Also nestled at the top corner of the city, overlooking the straight of Juan de Fuca, is the Northwest Maritime and Wooden Boat Foundation, The organization that put together this event and so many more in the northern waters of Washington and beyond. They truly hold a deep respect and care for their local area and community, and the whole trip was a beautiful lesson on how the islands and inlets of the puget sound and north almost serve as the “Bahamas for the adventuristly inclined”
Though the goodbyes were short on the dock as these little boats parted off and made their way back across the country in some cases, I didn't find myself saying goodbye anyways. I was saying “see you next year, in Olympia”.