For Us… It Usually Begins With A Morning Inspiration

Morning light reflecting off the ramparts of Mount Constance and friends. Olympic jewels… emoting a Sirens call for a late autumn adventure. Wanderlust incarnate…

So we “raised anchor” as it were. Something that dyed in the wool cruisers are wont to do. That consisted of a bundled plethora of linked events leading to moving our “house” and home elsewhere:

- detach and stow the dock steps
- place the temporary ladder in place
- rotate the AC power switch from shore power 1 station to the inverter position
- remove and stow all shore power cables
- start gen 2, warm up and switch all power to gen 2
- remove unnecessary dock lines
- test bow and stern thruster
- start main engines, warm up and test in forward and reverse
- turn on all electronic navigation equipment and both VHF radios, one to 16 (hailing / distress) and one to t0 (bridge to bridge)
- pee
- remove final dock lines. Hold GN to dock if needed with thrusters
- use thrusters to move away from the dock
- engage both engines and motate
- stow what needs to be stowed

Seems complicated, eh? Then again... we are moving our home somewhere else.  Somewhere up / down / around the Salish Sea... to our new "home".  Remembering all the time that:  Home is where Great Northern is.  Try that with your own home... it would take 3 weeks just to find house jacks... and the permits... SHEESH!

And... someone proceeded us out of Ludlow Bay:  A motorboat with a wind powered stabilization system.  What fun!  And... all the time Mount Baker watches our efforts.  She's seen it all and will soon shift her gaze to a place where more important things happen.
As we emerge from the Townsend Canal that links Oak Bay to Port Hadlock and Port Townsend… we find Mount Baker casting her ever watchful and jaundiced eye over the munitions depot on Indian Island. The place where the most despicable weaponry ever unleashed upon the human race is stored. Yeah… that weaponry…
Swiveling our gaze stage left, we find the Port Townsend paper mill at full steam ahead. Such industry!
Meanwhile, stage right, Ms. Baker continues to observe us and our “cruising boat” slow progress towards the San Juans. She doesn’t mind our observations and using her as a photo op. And… she is oblivious about the lenticular cloud that obscures her Western ramparts and hides her bald pate. She’s beyond all that…
As we glide past the restored Victorian village of Port Townsend, we note the crane / barge activity at Point Hudson Marina. After 70 years or so, the breakwater is being replaced. Funding finally made its way through the myriad committees to direct repairs.
I love this snap: Point Wilson stage left, Partridge Point stage right… and center stage, but far in the background are the San Juan Islands, one of which is our destination: Lopez Island. What is best about this shot… is that Partridge Point appears as tall as the cliffs of Dover, and the San Juans sport the loftiness of the foothills of the Cascades up close… as if 20 miles away across the Eastern Strait of Juan De Fuca is nothing. Mirage effect in play here folks. Deceitful visuals I say… Makes for interesting navigation, eh? At least it is clear!
And all the while she watches us. Observes us. Takes note of our progress. Perceives and approves of our little spot in the space / time continuum.
And here we are… serenely anchored. Lopez Sound at our fingertips. Who needs carbs when this visual candy is at our fingertips
Our view to the stern. Hunter Bay. Late shoulder season. Esta maravilloso noche, como no?

Next up Sucia Island…

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