Where can you rent a boat for cruising the San Juan Islands

  Is renting a yacht is a viable option for a San Juan Islands vacation?  

Yes, we have rented and recommend you consider renting too, why? see below.

Ahoy savings

Lets see why you would rent:

• you may not have a boat
• your boat is not trailerable from Kansas or Kentucky
• your drift boat is trailer ready but it sucks for camping
• renting is a chance to try something different, like a bigger boat
• because it doesn't make sense to own a boat and only use it once a year  (unless your afflicted with  boaters syndrome where you may own many boats you don't use)
• switch from power to sail or sail to power
• because you can't afford to throw your money into a hole in the sea
• to find out if sailing/boating is ok with your family pet, wife, kids, self

Now let's dispel some myths that are true some of the time: 

• renting is cheaper than owning  - yes, with some exceptions
• you must have a competency certificate to rent - absolutely not but you must have your state issued boaters card anytime you operate any boat.
• is it safe to do this as a novice that has good sense - yes
• is it safe to do this as a novice if some relatives that know you well caution you not to - no!
  (listen to friends and relatives) they know if your an idiot and a menace to all around you - just kidding but bring a level headed 1st mate to help with tough choices like - red on the right! or red on left! or red on bottom?
• can a power boater but non sailor rent a sailboat and have a great vacation and learn to sail - absolutely, but the competency thing may come up for bigger boats so bring a sailor friend
• can you rent power and sailboats in the San Juans - yes
• how much will it cost - small boat $100 - $200 a day (power or Sail)
• how much for a bigger rig - $500 and up, up and away
• should I get the added insurance offered - probably talk to your agent
• how many days should I plan for  -  5 / 7 days is very nice but two weeks would be awesome
• only go in mid June to mid Sept. - yes, unless you can save big and don't mind a little snotty weather tossed your way, then go anytime but be prepared for unpleasant things.

The 38 foot boat we rented for about $3000 a week, slept eight and handled bad weather very nice, but as you can see, the weather was not bad. Rental boats should be fully equipped with safety gear and navigation supplies for your travel area but don't assume anything. The boat above came with a 12 foot sailing tender, economical single diesel, thruster, chart plotter and radar.

Rent boats in Anacortes or Bellingham, but do some online research and find private rentals too.

What size boat is best in the San Juans? Bigger Boats - Smaller? Anything Goes

     Does boat size matter?     

Yes, but size affects each of us differently. Safety, food preparation, shore excursions, sleeping, comfort, and fuel expense.  The list is long.

   The difference in expense, crew requirements, and comfort are obvious, and if you drill down into the pros and cons of mega versus micro, each skipper will have a laundry list rationalizing and 
justifying their choices.             

Not every boat is ready for the San Juans!

  Sometimes I see micro yachts being paddled or sailed across straits and marvel at them just as much, if not more than the mega bruisers with the eight-foot freeboard.

                In the end, the boats most of us use in the San Juans are the ones we already have, it's as simple as that.  It's not a matter of what is appropriate or proper, it's a matter of making proper choices for the conditions, and your boat's ability to handle those conditions.

               From a 14 foot open fishing boat, kayak or canoe, to the Queen Mary, all have a time and place in the San Juans.

                The boats in the pictures below are likely to be found just about everywhere.

So if it floats -- get going.

Everything but the kitchen sink

And the kitchen sink

Too big to fit in picture (please remove shoes!)

Runabouts - ski boats - open boats
Common at Jones Island

Mega yacht won't be using any of the park facilities.
These guys anchor out and dinghy into the coves and floats
See the tender on top?

Another camper on a runabout

They may be using tents onshore at one of three campgrounds on James Island, or just a lunch stop.

Kayak  campers use campground at top of steps

At Jones Island, its a full float of  day-trippers.

This trailer sailer just rolled down the ramp

becalmed in a car-topper in Lopez Sound

This boater paddles the final feet to Pelican Beach

Here's a shot that captures mega to mini.
The sailboat is a 70's Catalina 22 towing an inflatable. The mega is 164' Eileen , built in Italy with an 31' beam.  If you look closely you can see the 35 foot center console dinghy attached crosswise at Eileens stern.
This was at Friday Harbor on the 4th of July 2016.

Click below to see satellite view of Obstruction Island

Fast Track to the San Juan's and Patos Island State Park

   What are quick answers to basic questions when planning a San Juan Islands boating vacation?   

Where to launch your boat and park your rig when heading to the San Juan Islands

In keeping with this sites purpose to help newcomers get to the San Juan's, you will find listed below selected posts and links.

These posts are the bare essentials needed to get you off on that trip to the San Juan's, the rest is up to you. (click on the links)

• Where to Launch your boat and park your rig

• First choice = Bellingham - (Squalicum Harbor)

• Close runner up = Deception Pass State Park (Cornet Bay)

• La Conner city ramp (Swinomish Channel)

• Washington Park - Anacortes

• Cap Sante - Anacortes (sling only)

Suggested Itinerary!

• Suggested Itinerary

All the Parks with complete descriptions and chart snips!

• All the parks with chart snips

1. Rent if you don't have a boat!

• Rent a boat in Bellingham or Anacortes

12 fuel docks- marinas - resorts - you should know about before you take off into the unknown!

• 12 Places you should know about

Is this all you need?

Of course not, but if you are a competent boater, the above posts will answer many questions you want answered.

Patos Island Anchorage
(Please don't drive  through this skimpy channel when arriving at Patos, go around, it's only five more minutes.)

Did you know you can ask silly questions? Use the e-mail box on the left side.

Click below for a satallite view of Patos Island

WHY own A BOAT? and for me "Why a Sailboat" when what I really want is to go camping somewhere in the San Juan Islands

   Why take a Boat to the San Juan Islands?   

"Why a boat?" is a fair question. The usual quick answer? "Why not a boat?"

Aha—got me again. But if you don’t like the answer, ask a better question.

Okay, how about this: "Why take a boat for a cruise instead of driving and camping?" Now we’re getting somewhere.

Why a Sailboat?

We spend most of our lives on land. A boat, at least for me, offers wide open spaces, freedom, and something more—an escape from the ordinary. The journey itself is my desire, my wish, my goal. The destination? Merely a mark on the chart, a waypoint in life.

A boat is both a complicated machine I must master and a simple drifting raft—a vessel of endless potential. Whether slicing through the waves, steering an underwater wing, or gliding lazily with the current, the experience is the same. The past and future dissolve; I am completely immersed in the present.

Underway at sea, my mind is filled with the pressing matters at hand. What course is safe? What hazards lie ahead? Are we drifting toward that menacing lee shore? Will we clear the point, or should we tack now and risk thin water? What is that new sound? That strange motion? That unfamiliar vibration?

I spot a rock ahead. A glance at the depth gauge tells me we have room—but then the rock disappears. Now it reappears, just off the bow. As we close the distance, I see it has eyes, a nose, and whiskers.

A mariner's connection stirs within me, and I fight the urge to wave. No response is forthcoming.

Anxiously, I check the depth again, hand poised near the motor. Then—the wind shifts. The sails fill. A sudden gust tightens the lines. I glance up the mast; the wind vane swings 90 degrees to starboard.

The sails, hanging like billowy white clouds, spill wind. I ease the mainsheet, adjust the jib. The telltales stream flat. Our trim is perfect.

The boat picks up speed, slicing cleanly through the smooth green water. We’re in the groove now—fairly flying. Our rolling wake is a fleeting marker of where we've been, an open message that tells little but still points our course for all to see.

No longer in the current’s unrelenting grip, we’ll soon clear the point and escape the deadly, ship-wrecking lee shore. No need for the motor—we’ll sail into the cove and anchor in time for a shore hike, a hearty dinner, and a sunset campfire on the beach.

But then—the sails luff. The wind shifts, then dies altogether.

I trim the sheets, but the telltales hang limp. The boat slows.

I glance toward the looming shore. Check the depth again. We may not make the cove after all.

Should I switch to the iron Jenny?

Looking for hazards, I scan the water. More heads have turned toward me now, watching. The connection feels stronger. This time, I give a dismissive wave—they know what’s happened. They know the wind has abandoned me.

Without it, we lose headway. Then, steerage.

Drifting backwards now, ever so slowly, the boat inches closer to the rocky shore. Closer to certain doom.

I check the depth again.

Kelp and seaweed float around us—pockets of debris from the last storm, drifting aimlessly in little flotillas of waste.

Then—suddenly—a slap of halyards against the mast.

The rigging strains, flexes. A swell rolls beneath us, nudging the boat with unseen force.

I scan the water. What caused the commotion? What set off the alarms?

Then I see it—a small boat, far off in the distance. Its wake reaches us in a series of gentle ripples, each one fainter than the last. A message sent. A message received. Then, silence.

I check the depth and glance toward the shore.

And I wait.

An hour later, nestled in the cove, the burnt orange sun silently slips below the horizon, marking the end of a wonderful day. A glass of fine Pinot or a cool drink rests in my hand as I sit by the campfire on the beach. My trusty yacht is peacefully anchored 150 feet offshore, or perhaps tied tranquilly to the dock just a few steps away.

Later, after dark, while waiting for sleep to overtake me, my thoughts drift to the day gone by—and to what tomorrow will bring.

Why not a Sailboat?

Update: In all fairness and disclosure, we switched to a trawler.  I miss sailing, but I also appreciate the simplicity and ease of not sailing.

 

Click below to see Victoria BC