More Family Time
25 October 2019
by Terry Spencer
One of my greatest pleasures is to share sailing with others. And to have others experience cruising in the San Juans with me is icing on the cake. Therefore, it was great to welcome Jer, Christie and Owen on the boat. Leaving Friday Harbor, we headed off to anchor at Jones Island, not far up San Juan Channel. Rowing ashore, we went for a hike around the west half of the island. As we neared the northernmost point, we heard a whale blow and hurried to get a better view. A pod of Orcas was swimming past and we had a great, but fleeting, view of them.
We made another very short run to Deer Harbor where there was a pool for Owen to play in. It brought back lovely memories of bringing my own children here when they were young. We all ate out on the deck at the Deer Harbor Inn where, sure enough, there were deer walking by throughout our meal.
It was here that I had another of those weird small world experiences. Talking on the dock with another boater from Tacoma, he allowed as how he had another boat, a 44’ catamaran in La Paz. When I asked him if its name was Orion, his jaw dropped. His boat had been anchored next to us in Ensenada Candalero on Espíritu Santo last November. Funny how the cruising world is so small.
We had a rainy second day at Deer Harbor, so we brought out another family tradition and taught Owen how to play Oreos. If you have played the card game Spoons, the rules are the same, but you cannot eat spoons. Unless you are the “loser”, you get to stuff an oreo in your mouth at the end of every round.
Our last day and night was spent back at Sucia Island where we all rowed ashore for a hike. Elisa and I went off on our own, finding ourselves on the shore of one lobe of Shallow Bay. Not wanting to retrace our steps back up the hill, we set out (fooliashly) to scramble over the rocks on the beach several hundred yards to the other lobe of the bay. Eventually we came to a couple of places where we had to cross smooth sandstone covered by slimy and slippery seaweed. And there were no handholds. I went first, and predictably slid into the bay over the slime and barnacles. Elisa followed and replicated my experience. We did this twice before we came to a spot that we could climb up the bank grabbing hold of roots. We were wet, slimy, and bloodied and could not stop laughing at ourselves.
And the next day, we left early in the morning to take the boat back to Bellingham. Tired, wounded, worn out, but satisfied with a successful vacation we turned in the boat and headed home.
Comments