An electronic beep raises my hackles. I scan the helm and multifunction displays for something amiss. I then realize the sound is the coffeemaker signaling that its job is completed, and my cup of joe is ready. I collect and bring the steaming mug back to the helm, then settle into the double companion chair under a crimson light. I note that it is just after 3 a.m.

I’ve been on watch for about 45 minutes, scanning the displays for commercial traffic or any other signs of life, but all is quiet. I look out the forward-facing windows onto the ink-black night as a mellow following sea gives the 47-foot trawler gentle waves to surf down. My two traveling companions snooze belowdecks; it will be another few hours before I rouse them.

The conditions are a stark contrast to the previous afternoon, when we spent several hours in bruising head seas, forced to slow to 7 knots with the tightly spaced swells. It was sweet relief to exit Washington state’s Neah Bay, round Cape Flattery and enjoy a following sea. As we passed the lower 48’s northwesternmost point, we increased our speed and pointed the bow south.

I think back on the afternoon’s snotty seas and use the multifunction display to link my phone to the boat’s stereo, choosing some mellow jazz to accompany me on watch. The ballad “Blue in Green” fills the salon, with Miles Davis’ trumpet and John Coltrane’s tenor sax seeming to keep time with the gentle rumble of the twin diesels. Next up is Lee Morgan’s “City Lights.” I listen to each player’s soloing, and replay a track to focus on the drummer’s polyrhythms.

Traffic is starting to pick up as we get closer to our destination, so I mark several targets for Time to Closest Point of Approach, and note the faintest of light on the horizon. It is time to rouse my companions.

As they come abovedeck, I recheck tide and weather conditions at our destination, where things are slated to deteriorate. We increase our speed to 18 knots, hoping the U.S. Coast Guard does not restrict our entry. Our plan is to hop the bar at the notoriously dangerous Yaquina Bay, and unlike the jazz greats echoing throughout the boat, we’re looking to play it straight ahead, without improvisation.

This article was originally published in the March 2023 issue.