North Colvos Passage Adventuring

It’s been a while since I ventured to the part of Vashon Island known simply as “Cove” on the west part of the rock. In late 2005 to early 2007 I lived on the very point at Colvos Passage in an apartment that was once the Cove Motel back in the Mosquito Fleet days. Looking out from this point across to Fragaria, it is one of the most peaceful, soul-settling places I have ever known. An otter family frolicked out my window. Cormorants did their little Karate Kid open-winged stance on the Northern pilings every winter. Barges pulled by tugs slowly trudged through the channel. It was the perfect place for me to live while going through a divorce, a place to reflect on next steps from the balcony, and to skip rocks on the shore with my little boys.

This day, though, three intrepid friends and I arrived to put in at Cove and set about on new swim territory for us toward Fern Cove. We had an approximation of distance from maps and kayaker Robert Teagardin, whom I trust implicitly. 2.5-2.75 miles was our best guess. Robert and his wife Deborah were curious enough to see us off for this swim. David, my husband, drove us to the start point; our vehicles were all parked at the finish point for a quick, warm escape to our respective showers and tea kettles.  We clipped our swim buoys on, zipped our BlueSeventy wetsuit armor and double-capped our heads. I set my Garmin to track.

It was a grey and breezy day from north winds, with some chop on the water but we’d heard there is a constant northbound current and felt that would give us a little boost on our journey. Well, it didn’t. We stayed coastal, about 50 yards or less offshore most of the way. Most of the time the back eddies had us fighting a head-on or neutral tide. The temperature felt really cold, about 49f, likely from deep water swirling in the coves. It surprised us how few true, low-bank waterfront homes existed on this stretch. Many homes were up on steep bluffs, but few where one could just step to the water. One exuberant dog saw his owner come out to calm him down. Maybe it thought we were in peril.

Under the water we cruised through a few beds of what looked like sand dollar acres, thousands upon thousands of black fuzzy discs. Other than that, we were either in crazy deep drop-offs of water or just over sandy shoals. Many silty patches meant slogging through opaque, aquamarine milk….very cold milk! That creeps me out because you can’t see anything under you. If you’ve ever swum Alcatraz it’s exactly like that.

Joe Yarkin and I, we roll at a very close pace and it’s awesome to not be too far out front or behind others, especially traversing new domain. I’d also never seen Fern Cove from the water perspective (only looking out) and did not have a good vision on our intended destination. Famed OW swimmer Lynne Cox might be disappointed in my lack of not checking satellite pix from Google maps in advance. It was nice to hear Joe say “right around that point where the white house is, that should be it!” A research boat was just trawling off as Joe and I rounded the last point. We were chilling down and hauled in with efficiency. Standing knee deep at the shoreline, we noticed a floating ovular formation of eight bowling ball figures 150 yards out that I thought were net markers left from the research vessel. It was actually a bob of seals, because suddenly they all turned their attention (and revealed seal heads in profile) to Mary and then Rebecca, our fellow swimmers!

With lots of talky breaks and regrouping, and the Garmin never paused, we logged 4,600+ yards (like 2.75 miles) and 1 hour 53 minutes of total water time. Heated seats in the car never served a better purpose than for cold water swimmers! Where next?!