Published: June 17th 2012June 17th 2012
Friday June 15, 2012 Three’s a Crew
Kira is returning with us and we are a crew, older and more experienced seamen that on our voyage together last year. With only a captain and an admiral giving orders we need a boatswain (pronounced bo’sun) to the things bo’suns do, like help carry provisions down to the ship and perhaps calm the angry birds. This is the first airplane flight that she can remember finding novelty and excitement in all she sees including the nifty little tables that fold up against the seat in front. She brought crafts, activities and drawing pads intent on using them all on our 1 ¾ hour flight to Ketchikan.
I probably should have hailed a taxi for the one-mile trek from the ferry landing to Bar Harbor Marina but I didn’t and we trudged with our rollerboards over the curbs and through the intersections to the boat. Kira was determined to handle her own luggage which was top heavy and hurt her hands but she wouldn’t let me help and the same was true for the plethora of provisions that we hauled back from Safeway. We were putting things
Eagle on the steeple
Is this mixing politics and religion? No, it just debunks the idea that churches in Ketchikan have no steeples.
away when I spotted a big bald eagle close and reached for my camera which was in my backpack and found neither camera nor backpack. A search of the boat was unsuccessful and I became worried that I had left it on the dock when we loaded the rollerboards over the side and someone had picked it up. Not knowing what else to do I retraced my steps to where I had taken off my jacket because I was hot and then I walked all the way back to the ferry faster and faster as the level of panic increased. I found it on the second of two ferries that make the crossing to the airport and then walked back faster and faster because it was starting to rain in earnest. It contained my computer with chartplotter, guidebooks, cell phone, SAT phone, journal, and great summer novels like Guy Noir and the Straight Skinny
by Garrison Keillor. How I managed to walk the mile to the boat, take off my jacket, load the boat and get organized without noticing that I had no heavy pack is one of those unsolved mysteries of my amazing life.
While at home I
connected with a classmate on our WVHS 1967 Facebook page. I commented on the (then) nice weather in Ketchikan and she asked if I wanted to help her with yard work. I asked her if she’d like some cherries when we came back and tonight we had a delightful reunion dinner up at Bar Harbor Restaurant with Anita and Ed K. I had coconut shrimp and Kira pasted off an entire rib eye steak and dessert before almost falling asleep over tales from the sixties. I brought cherries and Anita gave us smoked salmon.
Saturday June 16th
, 2012 Ketchikan
The wind blows and the rain runs down the back door in rivulets. Drains from the streets splash down the rocks into the marina sounding eerily like Fjiordland. Big dogs off little boats tow their masters up to the head of the dock for their morning ablutions and hurry back. So while seven-footers roll on in Clarence Straits we are lashed to the dock for another day snug and warm as three mice in a teacup.