“No waters can swallow the ship where lies
The Master of ocean and earth and skies.
The winds and the waves shall obey thy will:
Peace, be still.” – Master
The Tempest Is Raging, Mary Ann Baker
Lat-Long Coordinates:
48.5126° N, 122.6127° W
Does a day qualify as big
if you walk across a bridge tall as the Tower of Pisa, play and sing hymns
on an old piano in front of several hundred boats, and have security show up
when you try to do your laundry? I’d like to think so. Deception Pass was the
bridge and two burly guys showed up at 11:00 PM to confront us about our after-hour
suspicious laundry activity. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
We left La Conner WA this morning for Cap Sante Marina, the Star's new home for just a night. After last minute preparations before we enter Canada tomorrow, we went to Deception Pass, a treacherous pass where many ships have met their final fate. You can walk across Deception Bridge with only a waist-high handrail between you and a very long drop. The sunset was beautiful against the cliffs, and it was a hard place to leave.
As for the piano, it is a permanent resident of the Marina, exposed to all kinds of weather. The piano was rough around the edges, out of tune, yet somehow sounding more beautiful in its imperfection. Playing it was a very fun experience, made yet more special by our dock neighbors, Willie and Herb Stark, who we met in the Marina. Together we sang hymns as the sunlight disappeared, including "Master, the Tempest is Raging," as we looked out on Padilla Bay.
Boys in blue with guns came into the laundry facilities to inquire as to how we got in AFTER HOURS? Luckily, no one had to post bail--and they didn't confiscate our undies.
Since this is a longer entry than usual, I did the short version above, and the long version below. If you want to hear about FBI-style boat talk, and some worthwhile Captain Mark quotes, read on.
As I said in my previous entry, we left La Conner early this
morning, Captain Mark included. Going under the Bridge of Terror wasn’t quite
as terrifying this time, knowing what to expect (see previous posts about that
little gem). Entering the new temporary dock of Cap Sante in Anacortes on the
other hand, was a new experience.
I felt like I was in
the FBI when Captain Mark demonstrated how to request admittance to a marina
over radio. I quote,
Cpt. Mark: “Cap
Sante, Cap Sante, this is Northern Star,
requesting transient moorage, over.”
Marina: “Copy Northern Star, stand by…”
Cpt. Mark: “Name Gerber, Gray G, E echo, R ruby, BER.”
Marina: “Copy Northern Star, proceed to dock Charlie C, slot
42.”
At which, both parties got off with polite thanks, we
motored over to slot C42, and got off for the first time at Cap Sante Marina,
and it is quite the place. There’s a huge chess set into the ground and a
beautiful, weathered piano sitting out storm or shine at the highest point of
the dock, overlooking hundreds of boats and wide, blue Padilla Bay.
Intent on the last preparations before we cross the Canada
border, we headed out. A new boat prop costs—well a lot. As Mark put it, “BOAT really stands for Break Out Another Thousand.”
We passed streets like “Latitude Lane” and boatyards where it looked like they
were building the Ark. Much shopping later, at last we were finished with
preparations. But before we left Washington completely, likely never to explore
again, we knew there was one place we had to go.
Deception Pass. Famous
for its bridge that makes the Bridge of Terror look like a Bridge of Serenity,
Deception Pass is surrounded by pine-grown sheer cliffs, and has unpredictable currents
that have sunk boats for centuries. Lucky for us, you can walk across the
bridge—if you’re brave enough. It’s a hundred and eighty foot drop to the sea,
about the same height as the Tower of Pisa (wrong continent, I know). Jack had
to spit over the side, and it took six full seconds as we watched for it to hit
the ocean below. There’s only a waist high handrail between you and certain
death.
But it is so worth
it.
The sunset was spectacular, gold and white on the clear sea
and into the inlet beyond. The path down to the beach was lined with deep green
ferns and trees it would take four of me holding hands to circle, their
canopies too far above to see the top. Always, glimpses through the forest of
the glittering ocean below were tantalizing. The beach, once we reached it was
like salt and pepper—grains of black and grains of white, with water that was
very, very cold. (Watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tpSZ6vWRWwY)
Bewitching as Deception Pass was, we did get back to the
Marina late, but not after dark. Which meant a certain wind-swept piano was
waiting for me.The weathered piano’s
notes sounded watery themselves, each
with a wavering loveliness of their own. The smooth ivory has chipped off in places,
leaving gray wood beneath, that responded as I played, “Let Me Teach You How To
Dance.” An old man lingered, avoiding eye contact, smiling out at the Bay until
I finished and left, soon to return.
Yet the piano and I weren’t done with one another. See we made some friends down here on the
dock. Herb and Willie Stark, Captain
and First mate of Willie’s Tug—splendid
people, and residents of slip C42. Natives of Texas, Herb and Willie are on
their way into Canada, like us, and likewise we share some beliefs. I was dying to play some hymns on that piano, and when they
heard our plan, the residents of Willie’s
Tug wanted to join us. (Watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2E3MDzcyPdQ)
So as the last of dusk
fell, the entire Marina rang out the notes of “Nearer My God to Thee,” “I
Believe in Christ”, “Master the Tempest is Raging”, and “Sweet Hour of Prayer.”
Our newfound friends sang the words with us “Ever my song shall be, nearer my
God to thee!” It’s a comfort really, as we enter
Canadian waters tomorrow that though at some point we may have “the sky o’ershadowed
with blackness,” God’s master of the seas too.
As for the Laundry
Security, apparently the door to the
laundry facilities locks at 10. Somehow it was open for us, so we put in our
laundry, went to the showers (They charge 1.25 for a five minute shower.
Sheesh). Coming back to switch clothes to the dryer, soon enough to burly boys
in blue with sidearms start unlocking the door, come in and want to know how we
got in there?! Wet hair in turbans, we told them it was open. Happily, they
believed us.
“You should have seen
you girls eyes when we showed up,” one guard said with a smile. However, they showed us how to use the dryer. Serve and
protect people! As we walked away, we heard one guard say earnestly to the other, “Maybe we
should go check the locks on the bathroom, huh?”
So Canada the Northern Star is comin'.
Skipper Krystal
Great writing, great photos, great new friends. I can't wait to read ALL your posts!
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