Little Things...

With the GLORY B anchored safely in a quiet cove, we are spending two weeks ashore for a family vacation. A trip with "the Littles" (our youngest grandchildren) always narrows my perspective. Plots and plans fade into the background, temporarily making way for more important things. 

Like trying to get a three-year-old to blow into a kleenex for five minutes before realizing the "booger" he couldn't get off was some defect on the plastic nose of his Mickey Mouse toy. Or playing Monopoly all the way through until someone actually wins, while the repetitious hum of preschool TV inches up louder and louder from the next room. 

This year, we are planning an expedition to the Olympic Rainforest. A very small one. Where the trail leading to the beach is point three miles rather than three point something. Where just digging is far more satisfying than digging for gold. And our wildlife observations will be limited to such exciting things as Giant Banana Slugs, or Flying Squirrels. 

We will eat lots of things we don't approve of and bring far too many treats. At night, we will sleep as if we had been training for a marathon rather than playing all day. Finally  we'll drag home thinking what a wonderful place it is and how blessed we are to have such a special family to share these good times with. So that when the Captain and I row back out to the GLORY B, next week, to continue our adventures through the last six weeks of summer… we will be refreshed. 

Meanwhile, here's hoping you have opportunity to do something similar, this summer, too, fellow travelers. See you next week!


Hard Aground...

The second worst thing that can happen to a boat (other than water rushing in) is running aground. We did that, yesterday. It wasn't on purpose, and it wasn't as if the Captain hadn't been studying his charts (he's always looking at those things). It just sort of snuck up on us. 

The GLORY B draws six feet of water. So it was with a fair amount of comfort that we anchored in twenty-five feet, just inside Apple Cove. Not too far in because some of these places are notorious for turning to mudflats on a minus tide. We parked directly across from the ferry landing, a fair amount of space before the turn-in to Kingston Marina. 

A stone's throw away from a sailboat that was bigger than ours.

Easy peasy. Quiet night, beautiful morning. The Captain went off to town in the dinghy, while I did some work I had been putting off during our last crossing. When I'm working, I don't notice much of what's going on around me. You might even say I go somewhere else. 

This book by Eddie Jones
is now on top of my
reading list.
Which is why it came as a complete shock when the boat suddenly tipped over with a horrendous crash, and sent a shower of morning coffee on top of me. Along with anything else that wasn't tied down. Books, dishes, backpacks, etc. We hadn't even begun to get ready for getting underway, again. 

The floor was nearly vertical as I pulled myself out from under the debris and peeked through the nearest port. Horrors! The water looked only inches away from coming in. Considering I hadn't backed up any work for weeks, the thought of all my electronics getting drenched was appalling. 

I didn't know how much time I had to rescue stuff. Moments? Hours? Where did my briefcase go? Where was my purse? I finally took the only option I could think of.  Screaming and hollering for help.

Since the Captain had started back when he noticed the boat going over, he was practically there by then. So close I heard him answer, not to worry--I was only in two feet of water. "Just climb onto the high side," he told me. Which was easier said than done, considering I have been neglecting my endurance exercises for years. 

Let's just say it was a humbling experience to finally crawl up out of the hatch to find children playing nearby, in water that was barely up to their knees. By that time there were a couple other rowboats coming close, ready to render assistance to all my hollering. Not to mention a crowd of onlookers from the ferry that was docked and going about its normal business. Oddly enough, the boat that was "only a stone's throw away from us." was grounded but still afloat.

Everything ended OK (it always does when the Lord has you in the center of his hand). The tide came back as gently as it had gone out, re-floated us, and we chugged away as if nothing had ever happened. No damages. There were a few things down below that were bent out of shape (along with my self image) and another mess to clean up. 

All that about my electronics getting wet was a false alarm.

There's a lesson somewhere in all this, but I haven't sorted it out, yet. At the moment, I'm just wondering if my propensity for adventuring is more of a weakness than a strength. Or if I will magically turn into a stronger person somewhere down the line. Meanwhile, I'm hoping the Captain can put up with me till I get there.


Independence Day... Finally!

On June first, we left Liberty Bay to follow our dreams and see if God had a divine assignment for us. Especially since He had miraculously given us some very unusual equipment. But there were "giants in the land." Being met with long delays on the heels of one disaster after another, we decided to try once more to head north on the Glory B.

But we were turned back.

So, we tried, again. And were turned back, again. We simply could not get past the problem of seawater flooding the bilge every time we got under way. We began to wonder if there were some reason we were still in Friday Harbor. Something we had overlooked, or still needed to do while we were here.

I have to admit the Captain and I were both getting extremely disappointed. Because there is a window of time involved here, that -- if we miss -- will make it too late to start for Alaska this year. This because the weather changes drastically in September along the Inside Passage, and our mild lovely days could change to cold and cantankerous almost overnight. And we are not equipped for cold and cantankerous at this time.

Meanwhile, it was racing on toward a two week commitment we had made to take the grandkids on a camping trip while Mom and Dad went on a missions trip to Belarus. Something we had originally planned to fly back from Alaska to do. But that plan would be a near impossibility if we were still off in some remote location in Canada. Logistically speaking, it simply wouldn't be so easy to hop a plane from those places. Not to mention the kind of money it would take just to connect up with one. 

So it was that we made one last ditch repair, and tried one more time. But instead of heading out into open water toward Canada, we decided to make a tentative "shakedown cruise" around San Juan Island, to see how well all systems would hold up. They held up beautifully! And finally it was Independence Day…

For all of us. 

Now the question is whether we should go ahead and see how far north we can get, or wait for next year. And we will be earnestly  praying about that over the next two weeks. And, as always, any suggestions or ideas would be appreciated, as well.