Ivy and Eagles

We took a later ferry than usual to get to the island.  We arrived around 1pm on Saturday and headed to the boat to check on a nagging leak in the aft cabin.  One of the portholes had leaked and I thought I had fixed it with a light bead of caulking, but it hadn’t rained during the back half of that trip.  This would be the first test of my initial try at stopping the leak.

It didn’t work, so re-bedding the portholes became added to the “IT’S ALWAYS SOMETHING” list.

On to the cabin and we started in on the ivy.  The ivy that my grandmother had planted nearly 50 years ago.  Mom had already tackled part of the job and we pitched in and helped peel the ivy from the tree and shuttle the debris.  Oh what fun.  We re-staked some peonies and mercifully a heavy shower chased us indoors. 

A light happy hour, improvised appetizers, and Jodi’s dinner rounded out the first part of the evening.  Then Jodi and I headed over to watch colors.

I could write a whole blog on the colors ceremony.  It started in the late 50’s or early 60’s at Roche and growing up I recall watching it as a kid.  Later, in the 70’s, I used to do the colors, with the 2 highlights being the last segment on NBC’s show on the bicentennial in ’76 (a full day of filming resulted in something like 20 seconds of air time) and in his book on Roche Harbor the former owner of the harbor credited a buddy and myself as being a part of the first colors crew to march off the dock into the water.  That act has become quite a tradition over the years.

Devin was taking his place as part of the colors crew and that’s what we came to watch.  The whole crew did themselves proud.

Later Dev joined us for a beer in the bar then later still he and I had a nice chat on the deck of the cabin.  Nice evening.

The following morning started out with farm fresh eggs and yet more ivy removal.  This time we attacked the back of the guest cabin.  Like a slow growing alien life form, the ivy had been attacking the back of the guest cabin for years.  It was firmly attached and difficult to get to.  A few hours of sweat later and it was cleared.  Cool.

While we were clearing the ivy we kept on hearing the high pitched sound of Bald Eagles.  The sound isn’t all that regal, and don’t know if ‘bleat’, ‘squeal’ or ‘trill’ is the best way to describe it, but it was loud and sustained.  Turned out there was a dead deer on the beach and the Eagles, now scavengers, were having quite a meal.  In between work sessions we shot some pictures of the action.

One of them is probably the most unflattering picture ever taken of our national bird.

Dinner followed with family friends and we caught the last sweep ferry off the island.  Late night, but good weekend.

WALKING AROUND LAKE UNION

There’s something about going around an object.  You see it from all angles.  Better yet at a slow speed.  Like walking at 2 or 3 miles per hour.  Every step you get to see things.  It’s slow and wonderful. 

 We spent a part of Sunday walking around Lake Union, seeing the lake from all angles as we circumnavigated the lake.

We started at Westlake and headed north. We found ourselves on the “Cheshiahud loop”, named after a northwest indian who used to live near the lake in the late 1800’s.

The loop is loosely signed and cobbles together some very nice shore side paths with sidewalks, parking lots, and occasionally walking on streets.  It’s nowhere near as nice as Victoria’s harbor walk, but it’s not bad.

The lake is a busy place.  Kayakers, boats, seaplanes, the ever present “Duckies” along with joggers, bikers, and fellow walkers. 

Here’s the route we took and a few pics of what we saw.  The route is a bit over 6 miles, but we took a wrong turn and figure we did about 7 miles or so.

 In the 60's, Dad used to sail the 'Swiftsure' race from Victoria out to the Swiftsure bank and back.  The lightship used to be anchored out there.  By the time I raced a couple of Swiftsures in the 80's it had been removed. 

Grandma used to tell stories about Arther Foss.  Now the lightship and the old tug, along with the Virginia V are all tied up next to each other at the Center for Woodenboats.  All a part of Northwest History.

TOURISTS IN SEATTLE

The Classic Yacht Association held a boat show at the Bell Street Marina, so we went down to the waterfront to play tourist. 

The Seattle waterfront is undergoing a massive transformation.  Construction, traffic, barriers, detours, it’s a delightful mess.   But you can see the promise and the hope of what could and likely will be.  Once the Viaduct is down, there’s an opportunity for a near world-class waterfront. 

Once we got through the mess, we went to the Marina and visited the boats, many of which were open for boarding.

The Classic boats represented a wide spectrum of yesteryear.  From the elegant ‘Olympus’ to a small liveaboard ‘well used’ old wooden boat.  The ‘Olympus’ had a surprisingly small wheel house.  3 people could fit in it – but just barely.  But nothing was spared with the elegant salon and separate – and magnificient – formal dining room.  The ‘Olympus’ was from an age where owners ruled and the skipper – paid hand – was relegated to hired help. 

Our favorite was the ‘Corsair II’.  Built in 1926, she’s had the same owners for over 30 years.  50 feet long but impressively narrow, she carried the elegance of her years on scale that one could relate to.  Her pilothouse was comfortable with a nice cushioned bench seat.  A great platform for going north.  All the time worrying that some part from the 1920’s was about to fail…..

There were 3 cruise ships in town and the ‘Norwegian Jewel’ left as we departed the show. 

Seattle’s “Big Wheel” was nearing completion and just had to include a shot of the space needle as we played tourist.

KELLI's FIRST CRUISE

We were eagerly anticipating Kelli’s first sailing trip.  Jodi’s niece, 7 years old, had been looking forward to this trip for a while.  It was to be Ken’s first trip as well on the boat.  Having new folks on board changes the dynamics of a cruise.  Familiar places to us become new experiences.  Old  becomes new. 

Unfortunately the weather forecast wasn’t cooperating.  A ‘vigorous’ front was moving in on Thursday with forecasted 20 to 30 knot winds.  The wind should soften the balance of the weekend, but the rain sounded like a spigot that would be turned on and off again at will.  Showers and partly sunny seems to be a euphemism for ‘not going to be great, but won’t rain 100% of the time’.   We would have to make do.

Kelli first got a tour of the entire boat.  Stem to stern.   We shared the names of all the rooms.  Bedrooms became staterooms, the kitchen was the galley, and the bathroom was the head.  She came up with her own name for the engine room.  The ‘Dungeon’.  When Ken came down the dock, Kelli took him in hand and gave him the entire tour, stem to stern.

Under cloudy skies we headed over to Henry Island and predictably it started to rain. 

Jodi's signature dish more than made for the first evening of rain.

On Friday morning the weather cleared and we motored over to Genoa bay via Van Isle to check through customs.  Kelli found 'the best seat in the house' on the bow.

Plenty of time for chatting in the cockpit.

Once in Genoa Bay, Kelli took us for a spin in the Bullfrog.

Ken and Jodi

We also found a hummingbird feeder at Genoa.

Relaxing on the deck.

We saw some orca's and a seal who appeared disinclined to get in the water with the killer whales

Learning how to sail

At English Camp, Kelli learns about the British Flag and it's influence on other flags.  Then she helps take the HUGE flag down.

And helps fold it up.

And is personally thanked for her services!

After English Camp, we hiked to the summit of Mount Young

Steep.

Nice view from the top

Later that night severe cork drama required delicate surgery.

And innovation, but all was well in the end.

Tired after SO MANY adventures!!

A quick map of the adventure.