SEVENTY48 2025 Part I: Start Line to Lisabuela

Over the seven years that we’ve participated in SEVENTY48, we’ve learned that the weather plays a major factor in how we do. Last year, we tried pushing through the night to get ahead of the oncoming storm. And we learned that we need at least some comfortable rest during the 48 hours if we are going to paddle seventy miles.

As we approached race weekend, the weather forecasts were showing calm winds overnight, with headwinds picking up each afternoon. It had been five years and four races without getting to the finish line, and we wanted to give ourselves the best chance we could. So this year, we didn’t plan on using our luxury camp set up. We still got some rest, by doing what many other racers have always done: napping on shore as needed.

Getting Started

Friday leading up to race time, we tried to conserve our energy. We launched from Thea’s park and took advantage of the shade of the trees there. We packed our boats and prepped our gear, and then rested on a picnic blanket for a bit to keep the adrenaline in check. It was too warm to want to put a dry suit on. So we delayed a bit, until it was time to get going.

We moved our loaded boats to the water’s edge and paddled the short distance to the starting line. Once we were behind the flag, we tucked into the shade of the Foss Waterway Seaport to wait for the countdown. We have never been “in it to win it,” so we always let those that are eager for the start line go ahead.

The start itself is always noisy and crowded and wonderful. We chatted a bit with fellow racers until the green flag waved and then headed out with all of the other teams. As we looked around at the different types of human powered boats, we wondered how the sailboats would fare in the predicted headwinds.

And They’re Off

It took such a short amount of time for the pack to spread out into more of a line, and then a smattering of fellow racers. The conditions were lovely. Sunset was absolutely gorgeous.

Our first (of six) ferry route crossings was uneventful. The ferry was still loading passengers on Vashon Island when we got to the ferry lane, and we were able to continue paddling without much effort.

The first waypoint at Owen Beach was similarly uneventful. Geraldine was anchored where they said she would be. It was straightforward to pass between the boat and the beach before heading into Dalco and Colvos. While the currents weren’t strong, the back eddy near the southwest tip of Vashon was active. So we opted to head more mid-channel before turning north.

Colvos Passage

As we made our way into Colvos Passage, a streak of light sailed across the sky. With a cloudless dome above, depth perception was nonexistent. Was it a firework? A shooting star? Space junk? It moved slowly across the sky and then ended with a silent green flash. We’re speculating space junk, but still cannot say for sure.

As we approached the green channel marker in Colvos, Team Inertial Mass passed us. It would not be the last time Mary passed us over the course of the next 36 hours.

We landed at Lisabuela for our first break. The water was glassy calm and the moon was bright enough to cast shadows. We ate a snack, adjusted our layers, and got ready to continue paddling into the night.