Memorial day work break.

A quick spin between boat chores to see what the low tide brought in. I'm holding a small goeduck. Think clam strips. Mo is holding a glass of wine. Chance is holding out for a cooked one.

Chance and his girl pal Alita enjoyed some shephardy fun.

We were wondering why people laugh and take photos when we go by in the kayak with a dog or two. I guess we are a bit of a spectacle.

Joni, and all the way to Tacoma

Our friend Joni, and favorite sister of Petra in Anchorage, braved the rain and came out for a sail with us in Shilshole Bay and a bit towards Seattle.She's got some great photos on her photo page of the event. She's an Urban Planning student at UW and singer/songwriter to boot. She's also a lot of fun and knows Seattle's restaurants well.
Here she is wondering about halyards and rigging strength and steering a straight course.

And then it got a bit wet.

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We were invited to check out Blake Island State Park with our dock-mates for a long weekend. The motor down was great and the island a welcome bit of nature for us all.

Chance enjoyed a bit of off-leash time at the beach.

The harbor quickly filled with boats of all kinds, and included the U. of Washington Sailing Club. For a bit of a respite from the very social dock, we paddled around the island for an evening kayak and got some nice shots of Seattle.

The raccons are locally famous for breaking into hatches with agile arms and helping themselves to the bounty within. A new policy of not feeding them has reduced the problem and all we saw were coons on their best behavior poking under rocks. The Island was logged in the 1850s, but has bounced back after being purchased by a wealthy Mr. Trimble in the 1900s. Today, it is a very popular destination for groups of folks needing a little "green therapy".

We enjoyed the trails with Dave and Sam, knowledgable and fun guides and our mentors of sort with sailing. We owe these two a lot of kudos for getting us up and running. We also enjoyed their singing and playing at the Shishole Yacht Club Burger Burn with a really nice bunch of sailors.

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On to Tacoma after Blake Island to see it from the waterfront and Mt Ranier again.

When Blain went to school there in the late '80s, the waterfront and Commencement Bay were pretty much industrial blight. A large cleanup of the waterway and a renovation to town makes it a lovely place to be a boater. Our first bridge was a bit nerve-filled. We cleared it by 10 feet or so.

We moored up at Jonnie's Dock, a waterfront eatery that allows patrons moorage. Saturday and Sunday, they do breakfast. The food was nothing special, but the view was great.

In the morning we paddled across to the glass museum and to the Tacoma Art Museum, where our friend Janna works.

We overdosed on Chihuly just from the Bridge of Glass. I can't imagine the inside of the museum. It's almost embarassing sometimes walking our celebrity dog. He's a favorite with japanese tourists and school kids.

Of course he hates the attention...

Sailing with Jason and the Oysternauts

We were planning to rendezvous with some of our float-mates across the channel from Shilshole, but we developed a sewage leak (ewww...). That put us out of commission until we cleaned it up, emptied our holding tank, attached the doggie ladder, lubed the winches (no, this is not double entendre), and did several other necessary projects.

The harbor has free pumpout facilities, so that's nice. The night before we kayaked over to check out the facility, and a sailboat pulled in. We paddled over and asked them, "Do you mind if we watch you do this?"

They reluctantly told us, "Sure, knock yourselves out."

So we watched them suck out their s**t - with wonder and fascination as it flowed like pancake batter through the clear tubing and into the deep and satisfying vacuum of 'somebody else's problem'.

Oh, this glamourous yachting life of ours.
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On Sunday, we got our icky problems solved and fired up the engine to leave the harbor for our second time. As we were leaving the dock, our slip-mates pulled back in, so we missed the rendezvous, but we decided to head over to Port Madison just the same and drop the hook for lunch. We got the sail up a bit, but mostly motored over. The port was chockful of boats, floating docks, mooring balls, and kayakers, and only 10 feet deep, so we had a lot to think about as we looked for a spot to anchor. Anchoring went well, and lunch was nice, though it will take us some time to feel comfortable among such a crowded place with people and houses all around. The lack of a public beach was also a drag for Chance. So he had to stay aboard.

Mo got to be heroine for the day before breakfast, even. Buster, a random doggie on a run, decided to jump into the harbor. Here he is as his poor owner tries to figure out how to get him back up. Apparently, he just lept over the fence and down the six-foot breakwater to see what the low tide had exposed.

Mo jumped to action and grabbed the kayak to save the day, and Buster's poor embarrassed owner. Buster wasn't really happy with kayaking for the first time, but figured it out.Chance, in the meantime, was frantically readying the boat for the day's sail...

Our first guest brave enough to go out sailing with us was Blain's college friend Jason. They had done many foolish things together at the U. of Puget Sound, so Blain figured he'd be up to at least one more.

He turned out to be a good hand. Having some sailing experience, he knew not to panic when the captain can't point the boat the right way, or when the wind really starts whipping. We'd reefed the main sail down in the harbor, knowing it might be a little strong out there. We were glad we had, when the waves and windspeed picked up on our homeward reach. We had the strongest winds we've seen, and as you can see, several other gorgeous boats were out and about enjoying themselves in the stiff breeze - though with a lot more sail out than we had. The more sail out, the faster you go, but also the more you lean over, and the more stuff you have to pick up from off the floor.

The waves built, and the sails flogged wildly, as Mo recommended we take down sail and head in. The thought hadn't occured to Jason or Blain who were, well, absorbed by the out-of-control nature of the situation.

Getting back into the slip in the wind was a bit tricky, but there was no yelling, and once Blain got the boat parallel in the float, instead of perpendicular, Oystercatcher slid into the slot like she knew where to go.

All in all, we only sailed a few miles, back and forth roughly in a big circle, but we gained far more in experience and courage. Jason, you have an open invitation anytime you want to go sailing.

And Chance - he resumed his usual frantic lifestyle.