The backstory on why I flew my helicopter out to Anacortes on Sunday.

Those of you who know me well in person, by reading between the lines on this blog, or by following me on Twitter, have probably come to realize that I have been lusting for a boat for the past few years.

Yes, I know that I already have a boat — a little 1995 Sea Ray Sea Rayder F-16 that I bought back in 2011 for about $2,000, including the trailer — but although it’s a nice little toy to get me out on the water, it just doesn’t meet the needs of someone with a yen for exploring new waterways on extended length trips. Someone who has always wanted to live on the water but can’t decide exactly where that might be.

What Planted the Seed — and How It Grew in my Brain

I got this desire for a more substantial boat after a few outings with an (ex)friend at Lopez Island. He’d bought a 22-foot C-Dory Cruiser, which is an ocean worthy power boat in a sort of tugboat style. I loved the bright roominess of the cabin and the features, which included a usable galley (kitchen) and sleeping area. It was lacking one thing I needed in a boat: a head (toilet). But I poked around a bit and discovered that the C-Dory made a larger boat, the 25 foot Cruiser, which had everything I needed. I started thinking about that.

After a while, I started exploring other options — heck, even when I dream about something big like this, I do some research. I knew I wanted an ocean worthy boat that could be towed and stored in my big garage when I wasn’t using it. I knew I wanted the tug style, which had lots of big windows and stand-up cabin space throughout. I knew I needed a decent sized galley and a head, as well as full-time sleeping space. That weeded out a lot of possibilities.

Possible brand names included C-Dory, Nordic Tug, Cutwater, and Ranger Tugs. I eventually zeroed in on the 27′ Ranger Tug — specifically, the 2018 or later model. Not only did it meet all of my criteria, but it was fully loaded with all of the features I needed and wanted, from the Garmin navigation system with autopilot to the solar panels and inverter system.

Trying to Get Over It

As time went on, I lusted after this boat. I carried photos of it from the Ranger Tugs website on my phone. I thought about it when I was camping out in the desert or driving/flying past a waterway. I figured I’d better do something to get it off of my mind.

My first step was to see the boat in person. So far, all I’d seen were photos and videos online. I kind of hoped that seeing it in person would disappoint me and get it off my mind.

So I made an appointment with the General Manager of Ranger Tugs in Kent, WA, where the R-27 model is made. I had to take my helicopter to Hillsboro, OR and fly back through Seattle, so I scheduled my return flights with a long layover in Seattle and took a Lyft to the boat factory. It was very nondescript and certainly didn’t look as if they built $200K boats inside. I met with Andrew and boarded one of the two boats being built in a metal building behind their offices.

It was amazing. Better than the website. Shit. Now I really wanted one.

The interior of the 2018 R-27 Ranger Tug. If you took a comfortable little RV and stuck it into a boat, this is what you’d get.

The next step had already been set up. Last fall, I’d booked a 12-day “Learn to Cruise the Canadian Inside Passage to Alaska” cruise with Northwest Navigation on a small ship called the David B. I figured it would be a good way to learn new skills — marine navigation — and experience a long trip on a relatively small boat. (The David B is 65 feet.) So only a week after I visited the Ranger Tug factory, I was one of just four passengers on a 12 day trip that might be very similar to one I’d be able to do in the boat I lusted after. I hoped I wouldn’t like it.

Of course, I loved it. How could I not? Exploring sheltered, glacier-carved channels along the coast of Canada? Enjoying the solitude of secluded anchorages where the only sound comes from birds or waterfalls? Getting daily sightings of wildlife that included bears, eagles, seals, porpoises, dolphins, whales, and countless water birds? Navigating from point to point with the challenges of tidal currents in narrow passageways? Jeez! I could spend a lifetime doing that.

I’m not saying the trip was perfect. There were a few times we had to cross open water that was a bit rough and my landlubber head and stomach weren’t happy. (As I told Captain Jeffrey and Co-Captain/Cook Christine, my wasband, who would have really enjoyed the trip, would have been puking his brains out.) But even the weather cooperated with very few overcast or rainy days. (Whodathunkit?) As for the open water crossings, the David B chugged along at 5-7 knots; the boat I had in mind was capable of planing and could cruise a lot faster. So even though I wouldn’t take rough water at high speed, I could probably comfortably cruise at double the David B’s speed and cut the crossing times in half.

I also learned a ton about marine navigation and cruising — everything from reading details in charts to how much chain/rode (anchor rope) to set when anchoring. It filled me with new questions to ask Andrew at Ranger Tugs.

I also got advice from Captain Jeffrey: check out other boats. There might be one you like better that might even be less expensive. He was right, of course. I needed to do more homework.

Planning a Trip to the Boat Show

I was still on the David B when the invitation to the Anacortes Boat & Yacht Show arrived via email from Andrew. Seemed like a perfect opportunity to see a lot of boats at once.

The trouble was, it was in Anacortes and I live in Malaga. It’s a 3-3/4 hour drive. Each way.

It was a four-day show: Thursday through Sunday. I was helping my neighbors at Malaga Springs Winery bottle wine on Friday. I was supposed to be at Pybus Public Market selling jewelry on Saturday and Sunday. I had done very well at Pybus the previous weekend and was looking forward to a repeat performance. That left Thursday.

But did I really want to drive a total of nearly 8 hours in one day just to see some boats? Maybe in my S2000 with the top down. But there was rain in the forecast for Anacortes, so not only would I be driving in the rain, but I’d probably be walking around the boats in the rain. It wasn’t very appealing.

Thursday came and went; I did things at home. I bottled wine on Friday. I went to Pybus on Saturday — and had a crappy sales day.

I’d started looking at the forecast for Sunday. Earlier in the week, it had been bad, with clouds and rain on both sides of the mountains. But as time went on, the forecast changed. By Saturday evening, it looked like Sunday would be a good day.

Good enough to take the helicopter over. Instead of a dull 3-3/4 hour drive, I could have a 1-1/4 hour flight.

So I whipped out ForeFlight on my iPad, created a flight plan, got a weather briefing, and filed my plan for the next day.

()