Once our boat was safely attached to the mooring ball at Pelican Beach, we climbed into our little dinghy and rowed to shore.  We found the fern lined trail leading uphill towards the cliffs.  Broadleaf Stonecrop  and flowering foamflowers also made their appearances along the trail.  One thing about hiking the island trails, you pretty much only meet a few people, and everyone has arrived by boat. There are all kinds of boaters, weekend boaters, liveaboard vagabonds, and once in a lifetime charters.  The last bit of the trail was steeper but not overly so and we popped out of the woods onto a bare cliff top overlooking Fisherman's Cove and Obstruction and Peavine Pass.  Though the cliffs are named for the eagles that soar here, vultures do as well and we saw a flock of them.  The scene from the Jungle Book entered my head and I could almost hear them say, "What do you want to do? I don't know, what do you want to do? Oh, don't start that again."  We stayed until the air became a bit chilly, chatting with the other boaters that made the trek as well.  Back to our little floating hillbilly home, we settled in for dinner and an early night.  I was exhausted, not being used to the six hours of sailing and a hike.  

 As we ascended, the air grew cooler and fresher. The occasional gust of wind carried with it the salty scent of the sea and the dry air of baked earth . The water, dark blue to turquois, with small flecks of white  and the white sand of the beach sparkled in the sun's fading light. The mangroves, their roots submerged in the water, formed a natural barrier that protected the beach from the rough waves of the open sea. I could see sailboats motoring in for the night in this small protected cove.

We continued our climb, scrambling over loose rocks and boulders. I could feel my muscles protesting the effort as we hurried, but the view from the top would be worth it. Finally, we reached the summit, and I was not disappointed at the panoramic view that greeted us.

From this vantage point, we could see the meandering coastline, stretching out into the sea and Balandra Bay curving inward beside us. The orange and pink hues of the setting sun painted the sky, casting a warm glow over the rugged landscape. The Cordon cactus standing proud soaking up the last rays of sun. 

We could see the outline of  the distant islands, and the endless expanse of the sea, its surface shimmering in the light.

In awe and excitement, we stood there for a moment, taking in the beauty of our surroundings. As the last rays of sunlight turned the sky shades of purple and faded, we began our descent back down to the beach, exhilarated by the experience and already planning our next adventure.

 The warm salt air whipped through my hair as I gazed out at the never-ending expanse of the deep blue sea. The sun shone down on us, illuminating the undulating waves as they lapped against the hull of the boat. We sailed on, the wind filling our sails and propelling us forward.

As we settled into our spots in the cockpit, our captain regaled us with tales of sailing and the wonders of the ocean. Suddenly, he spotted something in the distance – a smooth trail of blue, a tell-tale sign of a majestic creature. We tacked back and forth, scanning the horizon for any signs of movement.

And then, in the distance, we saw it - a massive blue or fin whale, its sleek body blending perfectly with the deep blue of the water. As it crested and dove, we watched in amazement, marveling at the grace and power of this gentle giant. We tried to keep up, tacking and jibing in an attempt to follow the whale's path.

Each time we thought we had lost sight of it, it would surface again, spouting water from its blowhole and then disappearing beneath the waves once more. It was a game of cat and mouse, with the whale always staying one step ahead of us.

As we turned back towards our course, I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and relaxation wash over me. This was what sailing was all about - taking the time to slow down, soak in the beauty of the ocean, and let our journey unfold naturally.

There was something truly liberating about being out on the water with no real time schedule, no deadlines to meet or appointments to keep. We were free to explore, discover, and experience things spontaneously, just like we had with the blue or fin whale.

As we set sail for our original destination, I found myself eagerly anticipating whatever the ocean had in store for us next. Perhaps we would spot a pod of dolphins playing in the waves or catch sight of a school of brightly colored fish darting beneath the surface.

Whatever the future held, I knew that we were in good hands with our skilled captain and that the journey itself would be just as rewarding as the destination. With the wind at our backs and the endless expanse of the ocean before us, I felt a sense of peace and contentment settle over me. This was the beauty of sailing - a chance to disconnect from the hustle and bustle of everyday life and truly connect with the natural world around us.

We bought a sailboat; half a sailboat!  I am still shaking my head over this.  It wasn't on my radar at all.  So in an effort to understand how this came to be I am revisiting the past, the far past.  Tracing the line that lead us to this moment.  While John was single but dating me, he spent a week aboard a sailboat cruising the San Juan Islands with some friends.  They had their skipper license and would charter a boat every summer and they still do but to more far off places than are local archipelago.  He loved it but there was much wind and they ended up motoring more than sailing.  He also tried windsurfing along the Columbia River.  When the kids were young we sailed with another family to Sucia Island for the day.  I was a bit nauseous and so stayed on deck even though it was cold. John also grew up with motorboats and we had two while the kids were growing up.  Both were pieces of junk but they got the kids onto tubes, skis, and wakeboards so that was perfect. By being a bit of junkers we weren't worried about rips or tears in the vinyl, we could just concentrate on fun until the boat didn't run, which actually did happen with each boat.  That's why we had cell phones and paddles.  Anyhow, we have been boatless for a few years now.  John bought a motorcycle and we often ride that in the evenings exploring our county roads and getting lost.  He started looking for another motorcycle and each time I thought this one was it, but he needed to think on it and time would pass, the motorcycle would be sold.  I thought we'd try van camping.  We love to hike and camp, but the idea of driving up to a spot, and camping in a dedicated camper van was appealing.  I envisioned crossing the country and seeing all the national parks this way.  It may still happen, it just isn't on the immediate horizon.  During the summer we would put our kayaks in the water at Drayton Harbor or at Marine Park, paddling near shore enjoying the view and wildlife.  Then this summer we took a sunset cruise on the Schooner Zodiac out on Bellingham Bay with friends and it was beautiful.  We started talking and these friends have a sailboat.  Very much smaller than the Schooner Zodiac but a cruising boat none the less.  They were talking about selling it.  I looked at John and told him we should buy it.  Many of the things I say are more fantasy than reality.  The idea of a sailboat is appealing but really, we were on another path.  We met for drinks enjoying a sunny afternoon at a brewery and it came up again.  Laughingly I said we were all in.  Another dinner with them and an offer of a sail.  A beautiful day, lunch on the boat, a light breeze and were out of the marina cruising the waters on the bay.  A few porpoises leaped, a seal popped it's head up, the wind in my face and the quiet.  I closed my eyes and soaked in the sun.  My scopolamine patch firmly fixed to my head just behind my ear.  I looked over at John and we were hooked.  So instead of buying the boat outright, we asked if they wanted to co-own with us for the following reasons.

1) Splitting the costs such as repair, maintenance, insurance, registration, slip fees and such.

2) We could continue to keep in this marina.  There is an 8 year waiting list.  

3) We would learn from and alongside another couple.

4) Also a boat should be used and there are plenty of days in a year for four people to be able to use and share a boat.  How many days would overlap?  That is a question that will be answered in this coming year.

The check was written and we have begun to climb all over the boat.  Learning about propane tanks for a heater and stove (which does not yet exist aboard the boat).  How do you put gas in the tank? Where do you fill and drank the water?  How does a composting toilet work? What are the parts of a sail? How do you take a dog when sailing? These and many more questions are going to be answered.  The first part is with a few books.  I've signed up for an all women's one week sailing course in the summer.  Hopefully preceded by a sailing course in the Sea of Cortez.  I'm listening to podcasts, pinning articles on Pinterest, reading sailing guidebooks and stories, watching YouTube videos.  I am determined to love this adventure and so dream building has ensued.

For almost 22 years, I have driven past this bridge.  I glance at it, not really thinking about it.  Generally I gauge the water level by the sandbar and log jam around the piling of the bridge.  However, lately our small town has embraced this bridge as a sort of icon of the town.  They created a new park with playground equipment for kids and one of the items is a bridge with the name Metallica Bridge on it.  A new brewery opened up and they had large wooden bridge wall art designed after this bridge. Kids have long painted graffiti on the metal part above the pilon but within a week or so someone comes along to cover it up and repaint Metallica on it.  Doing a little research I have learned that the railroad came through in 1893 and soon after a bridge for vehicle traffic replaced the ferry system.  Sometime later this bridge was built as a pass through bridge, meaning that it can turn on gears to allow boat traffic to move  up river.  It hasn't turned since the 1980s when work was done on it.  In the late 80's around 1986 or 1987 the Metallica graffiti first appeared on the bridge after some local youth attended a concert.  Since then the graffiti has been painted over with other messages but always returns and has become a symbol of our town.