We pulled on foul weather gear in Squalicum Harbor’s parking lot, tugging Gore-Tex over limbs already thick with wool and fleece. The day was gray, the wind was cold and gusty, and the mast was newly standing. Perfect time for Team SLAM’s inaugural sail aboard our new-to-us boat, Wild Card. 

Boots on, mittens and hats in place, we strode purposefully down the dock.

Then we realized we had to pee. 

Let’s back up a bit. You might recall that Team SLAM — Katie, Brianna and Melissa — bought Wild Card in September. This 1978 Santa Cruz 27 has proven her worth as a stellar and safe racing boat in the Pacific Northwest. She came in 3rd place in the 2018 Race to Alaska and sailed competitively in many other races in Washington. Check out these pics of her kicking ass with previous owners:

After replacing some of the standing rigging, reinforcing the barely-hanging-on tiller/rudder joint, and scrubbing the heck out of the hull, Wild Card splashed into Bellingham Bay in early November. A few days later, Brianna flew over from Montana to join Melissa and Katie for a shakedown sail. The goals were modest for our three days together: 

• Rig the boat.
• Sail the boat.
• Bond as a team.
• Don’t die.

We chose the unfriendly month of November to make sure we remained steadfast and cheerful while sailing in cold, crappy weather…the same cold, crappy weather we’ll likely face on the way to Alaska in June. 

And cheerful we were indeed on a grey, drizzly Friday morning. After peeing and re-encasing ourselves in multiple layers, we got to work rigging Wild Card for the first time. We attached the boom and baby stay, the mainsheet and jib sheets, the cunningham and boomvang, cotter pins and halyards. And if we’ve already lost you with weird sailing lingo, don’t worry! We lost ourselves, too! But we mustered our excellent communication skills to decide where to clip “this weird hook” or “that little wire thing” and so on. 

With Wild Card looking more like a sailboat, we started our trusty outboard and putted out toward the channel. (Note: come June, we will replace the gas-powered motor with a really cool custom bike that pedals a propeller and makes our boat totally human-powered, as per the R2AK rules. The bike is currently getting some love in a friend’s garage to make sure its sprockets are lubed and its pedals are powerful!)

Out in the channel, we felt the full force of the wind. A front was slated to pummel Bellingham over the weekend, with gusts to 70 knots predicted by evening. We planned to head back to the dock by sundown to avoid the worst of the storm. 

But the wind was still honking when we hit the bay at noon. We high-fived ourselves for putting a double-reef in the main and for choosing the smallest headsail aboard (which was still big enough to leave Bri loudly wishing for a storm jib instead). 

As Wild Horse hobby-horsed in the whitecaps, Katie steered the boat into the wind while Melissa and Bri raised the sails. A halyard got wrapped, of course, and it required a couple tries to get everything set up right. But once the sails were trimmed, Wild Card settled on her side and sliced happily through the chop. 

We turned the motor off and let out a collective sigh of relief. All three of us prefer the sound of wind and water to the drone of diesel or gas. Plus, it’s always reassuring when the boat you bought actually sails.

“Well, this is delightful,” Katie exclaimed as she rounded up into a big gust to dodge a crab pot. “Which is not a word I’d planned to use today!” 

Wild Card handled like a champ and we felt safe and comfortable, even when the wind whipped over 35 knots. We tacked and jibed and took turns at the helm, testing our boat and our team dynamics. Both performed flawlessly.

Four hours later, we doused the sails and headed back into the harbor. The rain started in earnest just as we turned into our slip—perfect timing to grab a beer. 

As we polished off pints and dinner at a local pub in Bellingham, each of us shared why we wanted to do something as uncomfortable (and idiotic?) as sailing a tiny craft across 750 miles of cold ocean. Here are the Cliff’s Notes version:

Melissa: “I love doing things that are scary and hard, and I love the wilderness and going on adventures. It’s really hard to take time just for yourself. I couldn’t have done it before now, when my kids were little or I was starting my career. Now the timing is right, and I’m excited we’re seizing the chance.”

Katie: “Ever since the Race to Alaska started, I knew in my gut it was something I’d do someday. The stories each year bring me to tears—following the people who are brave enough to do it, and hearing how it transforms them. I want to step out of the grind and be one with nature. How many chances do we get to do that in this one precious life?” 

Brianna: “I’ve been feeling my way through a mid-life growth spurt the past year, and this race feels like a perfect way to grow a lot as a woman, a sailor, and a human who can do tough things. My happy place is on a boat, surrounded by mountains and ocean. Bring on the whales!”

We sailed Wild Card many more hours over the next two days, making lists for all the things to repair or retrofit, along with a wish list of what we’d love to beg, borrow or buy for the journey in June (stay tuned for that list!).

On Sunday, the wind calmed even enough for us to try out the 150 genoa. And when that lovely, big black sail got to be just a tad too scary, we didn’t hesitate to douse it. Because here’s the deal: we aren’t out to impress anyone but our own selves and we’re unwilling to sacrifice safety for speed. 

These three mamas are explorers at heart, not racers. The race is a means to more metaphorical ends than a finish line: Adventure. Independence. Confidence. And fun stories to tell our kids when we get home.

So this is where we’d like to state for the record that Team SLAM has no intention of winning the R2AK. Or even coming in fourth. (Apologies if that bursts anyone’s bubble!) Our goal is to arrive in Ketchikan in one piece, still (mostly) smiling at the end, a little wiser and a lot saltier.

Meanwhile, Katie and Melissa continue to get salty and wise during day sails aboard Wild Card in Bellingham Bay while Brianna watches jealously from snowy, landlocked mountains.