Make New Friends, and Set Your Brain on Fire

This weekend we did the unthinkable: we went to Friday Harbor and back in one day. A trip that takes us three days on Moonrise took us 3 hours or so on the Victoria Clipper, a boat that is the marine equivalent of a South African taxi. It’s really fast,  not particularly comfortable and lots of people are crammed onto it, but it gets you where you are going and the scenery can be pretty. Plus, in the case of the Clipper, there is unlimited free coffee and tea, and the coffee is actually not bad. Bring your own food. Just saying.

Bye bye, Seattle.

We went to Friday Harbor to meet up with Steven Roberts of Nomadness fame. Steven, who refers to himself as a ‘technomad’, is the inventor of the Microship and has spent his life inventing geeky things and playing with interesting integrated systems of all kinds. He owns an Amazon 44, a steel sailboat which is a pretty dreamy boat. I’ll be writing a review of the boat for Three Sheets Northwest and he is considering putting his boat up for sale. For now, just know that this boat could take someone literally anywhere they wanted to sail in safety and in style.

I’ve been a fan of Steven’s website for a couple of years now. He has many cool ‘boat hacking’ kinds of ideas that he shares with people, such as holding curtains to your boat ports with earth magnets for a clean and easy look, and a portable boat seat that attaches to the steps of the companionway. I’m saving those posts for later because, hey, the rain is here which means that boat season is pretty much over and I’m going to be scrounging for copy.

S/V Nomadness at her great dock location in Friday Harbor.

But I know that you are dying to find out how our brains got set on fire; why we could literally feel the heat as our neurons made new connections in uncharted territory. It all happened because of our new friend Steven’s forward rowing system on his sailing dinghy. You know how it’s impossible to see where you are going when you row a little boat the normal way? I hate that and many is the time that I turn around and row backwards, bow first, which is not a particularly efficient way to row. (Plus, people look at you like you don’t know what you are doing, and certain types of men try to correct you.)

I managed to NOT hit the pilings behind me. This was encouraging.

So Steven just couldn’t let us get away without letting us try rowing his sailing dinghy with the special forward rowing system. We’re game to be laughed at, so we both said , ‘Sure! We will set our brains on fire for other people’s amusement! No problem!’. And so it came to pass. I went first, managing to get the boat out from the dock, row around, and come back without actually crashing into anything. Oh, the hilarity! Then it was Mike’s turn. He is left handed in a big way. I don’t know if that matters, but perhaps it does. All I know is that if you think it is easy, you try it.  He may have taken photos of me, but I VIDEO taped him! Enjoy! (And just ignore that conversation Steven and I are having. I don’t know how to remove it.)

[vsw id=”IFRqAlhvkic&feature” source=”youtube” width=”425″ height=”344″ autoplay=”no”]

After a great visit with Steven and Nomadness, we had a couple of hours to ‘do’ Friday Harbor. What we ‘did’ was eat lunch at Pablito’s Taqueria: Mexican food meets Pacific Northwest.  I’m not particularly a ‘foodie’, but the Coffee Braised Pork Taco made a party in my mouth. Yum and Yum! I would take the Clipper back to Friday Harbor just so I could order those tacos again. Forget the rice and beans and whatever else was on my plate.  Give me the taco and a good beer and I’ll be happy. If you go to Friday Harbor, go get some of these pork tacos. You won’t be disappointed.

I care nothing about any of these other foods. I am all over those coffee braised pork tacos.

 

People

 

During our recent vacation to the Gulf Islands we found ourselves enchanted by more than just the scenery and good wind. British Columbia offers some sterling people watching and our new go-to spot has to be Bergoyne Bay. Located on the west coast of Salt Spring Island, Bergoyne Bay is long and over 300 feet deep, with rocky headlands guarding the entrance. At the head of the bay is a provincial park with waters of anchoring depth. There is great hiking and the shallow waters close to shore are warm enough for swimming with the local seals. What could be better?

The blue dot is at the head of Bergoyne Bay on Salt Spring island.

I’ll tell you what could be better: people living in float homes, that’s what. Apparently British Columbia has not regulated the hell out of everything everywhere yet, at least here, because there are some particularly awesome float homes in Bergoyne Bay that are built from recycled and ‘found’ materials. Since the people who live in them are not hurting anyone else, they are allowed to exist peacefully. Likely some of these folks would be considered homeless if the government decided they were intruding on someone’s idea of a water view and kicked them out. I talked to some of the locals about the float homes and was told that there is a ‘live and let live’ attitude that exists there, although this is clearly a special case. I was glad to see that in at least one part of North America you don’t have to have 10 million dollars to enjoy waterfront living (not counting living on a boat, of course).

Water hippies.

So let me tell you about the waterfront awesomeness that is represented in the above photo. The main structure is ferrocement. On top is a greenhouse where I am swearing to you they are growing squash (and perhaps other kinds of herbs that are more or less ‘colorful’). You can see that aside from the main structure, which is pretty spacious, there is a smaller hut, used for dining al fresco.  I would have loved to tour this place but most people don’t want their homes confused with a tourist attraction, so I didn’t ask. But they are probably used to tourists staring. And photographing. I did try to be discreet as I paddled around their house, eyes wide open.

But let’s be fair when thinking about my voyeuristic ways. Consider this: We’re sitting in our cockpit in the evening having dinner, watching the shore for wildlife. I observe a man walking along the shore. He stops beside a rock and before my very eyes, he drops his pants. All the way. The full monty. Now I am completely interested, and wouldn’t you be, too? If that happened around here, someone would surely call the cops. We are in the U.S. after all. We like our nakedness on the front of magazines, not in a natural setting.

He casually wades into the water and goes for a swim, exits said water and shakes like a dog, and puts his pants back on.  Apparently clothing is optional at Bergoyne Bay. Turns out this guy lives on the ferrocement floating home and he is frequently seen naked in fine weather. And playing his trumpet. That’s right! At the same time. Who wouldn’t be looking? I’m not proud; I used binoculars!

You cannot pay for this kind of ‘dinner and a show’ anywhere. Turns out the guy plays the trumpet whenever the spirit moves him. Not a song, mind you, just quick blasts of 6 or 7 notes. His woman, elfin and crone-like, yet young,  plays the French Horn and they are known to do their own special B.C. rendition of Dueling Banjos, sans tune. Fabulous! I tell you I would love to have a conversation with these folks. Maybe I can wrangle an invite to tea next time.

The sunken sailboat really adds to the ambiance provided by this little trailer home. I rowed around this place many times, just trying to resolve my own cognitive dissonance.

Next door to our artistic and musical couple is this pitiful little trailer. I assumed it was abandoned because of its generally trashed out condition, but I checked with my local source and he said it wasn’t. Still, it’s hard to believe that anyone would need a sailboat that was pretty much under water. Not shown in the photo is a toilet sitting outside the front door. One can only hope he doesn’t actually use it…

And this was just neat, tidy, and even attractive in a rustic, reclaimed sort of way.

On the far side of the bay was this little house. This looks like it was built all at one time, with an actual plan in mind. Inside it is nicely furnished with a full kitchen, a young child’s chalkboard easel standing in the window. That’s right. I peaked inside the window (from the dingy, mind you. I may be curious, but I hope I am not rude.) I would love to spend a summer in this place.

After our naked man experience, we kept our eyes open when sitting in the cockpit.  The following evening we were rewarded once more. There was a very nice party on the beach. Some young people brought lanterns and tables, blankets and large cushions for the ground. It looked like a festive event among friends was in the offing. Soon the small crowd had gathered and the revelries began but rather than the loud drunken sort I half expected, they were quiet and respectful. You hardly really knew they were there so they didn’t really offer many opportunities for gawping.  Until 5 women made their way down the beach to the area just in front of our boat, laughing and talking together and generally being women friends. Then the stripping began. Soon there were 5 aspects of Venus, splashing in the foam. Since they were my age or better, I didn’t bother to distract Mike.

We’ll have to go back to Bergoyne Bay and stay longer when we find ourselves bored with our regular lives. I was just getting the hang of the clothing optional lifestyle when we left.

By the way, if you go there, be aware of your anchor. It’s one of the only places we’ve ever had to reset the anchor because we were moving gently and slowly toward shore. Stick to the deeper water to anchor and you should be fine.

Lovely Bergoyne Bay.

The other great people watching place is Victoria. Guest dockage in Victoria Harbour is directly in front of the Empress Hotel, that icon of genteel living.  It’s worth it to go there just for that experience. This part of Victoria is filled with tourists from all over the world and thus there is much entertainment to be had. And I’m not talking about the street performers.  Here are a few photos from Victoria.

Nice! He plays the pipes, of course.

Wow! Guess this is how people make a living with old boats.

Little tiger girl.

Venerable plaster man.

The iconic Empress.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Water and Light

There is something about a lighthouse that makes me want to move in. Perhaps it is the eternal romantic in me, but I would totally love to experience living out on a big rock overlooking the sea. (First…. get a million dollars…) Some of the lighthouses I’ve seen are actually short and squat, but I would want one of the tall skinny light houses.  I would gladly walk up a narrow metal winding staircase to get to the view at the top. There I would keep a kerosene stove, a comfortable couch with plump pillows and cozy throws, a low table, a library, and a lamp. I would be completely content for a long period of time. No doubt the reality would be different than my fantasy, but maybe not… I can imagine a lot of things.

So although pretty much everyone with even a phone camera takes photos of lighthouses, I did, too. And here they are. (You can add them to your Pinterest page by allowing your mouse to hover toward the top of the photo, watching for the magic Pinterst logo to appear. How cool is that?) Our rocky coastline is lousy with light houses, some of which are still useful for keeping ships from dying on rocks. All of them, though, are rich fantasy material.

Lighthouse at Dungeness Spit with the Olympic Mountains singing backup.

Approaching Victoria.

Racing around Race Rocks.

A better one of Race Rocks, near Victoria. Crazy currents.

Patos Island and Mt. Baker

May all of your best fantasies come true!