Beam Reach

“Tails” from the Dock

Hello cyber sailors,

All packed and ready to leave tomorrow for 2 weeks. I am pretty sure my internet will be lacking from the sailboat, but hopefully I will return with tales to fill your webspace.

This past week went really quickly, beginning with a visit from a few good friends! It was great to see and explore San Juan Island with them, go for a hike up Mount Young, visit English camp, and eat some fried food in town. I took a ton of flower/plant pictures.

Roche Harbor

Sunrise. Waiting for the ferry

Flower on the hike up Mount Young

Remember when I said I would love to help do a necropsy on the sea lion from last week? Well, it happened. I got to be knee deep in the intestines of a marine mammal and let my inner child and scientist run free! I am not attaching any photos because they are bloody, but if you would like to see some, let me know.

Schoolwork and proposals filled the rest of the week, but my stories come from a late  night walk.

I like to sit at the dock after the sun goes down and look at the stars, see the lights reflecting off the water from Friday Harbor, and listen to the quiet. I have started remembering to bring my headlamp lately for fear of sneaking up on some raccoons and deer that hang out in the area. They must hear me coming, but each time I come around a corner, they scare me worse than I scare them. So, I have become cautious with peaking around corners and checking each building parameter for creatures.

Last night I went for such a walk and was admiring the water critters that glow with a reflective light. I was playing around with seeing if they still glow with a red light – and they do! How cool is that? Just then, I thought that my imagination was running wild because it was like I was in a sci-fi film. Two large, beady red eyes with a small red line between them were flying toward me from about ten feet off the dock in the water. It was moving to quickly. By the I fumbled my headlamp into the white light position, it was almost at my feet. To my surprise, it was not my imagination at all but a sea otter who ducked under the dock just as I to the white light stable enough to spot him. From that point on, I decided to step back a bit, just in case he decided to jump onto the dock. I didn’t want to surprise him by being the landing pad.

I was slowly lulled back into my comfort zone by the stars above and talking to Loretta on the phone. Each little squeak and creak registered in my ears, but my logic told me to calm down, the adventures were probably over for the night. After all, the otter knew I was there, so it would logically leave me alone.

I sat for a long time in the dark, but the dock is pretty uncomfortable, so I laid down to get a better view of the stars. The squeaks of the fender against the boat, the dock shifting, and something else kept registering in my brain. Then, I couldn’t identify the noise. There were a number of squeaks that seemed too close to be the boat (mind you, my head is on the ground), so I turned my face to the right to help identify the noise.

Not three feet from my cheekbone was a large rodent! I screamed bloody murder and jumped to my feet just in time to see a rat butt scamper across the adjoining dock and disappear into the darkness. I picked up my wits and pretty much jogged the 50 or so feet to safe ground. There is something about the body’s reaction to fright that is impressive. You really can move quickly, be completely aware of your surroundings, and see better, even in the dark. Don’t get me wrong, I am pissed that I keep getting lulled into this sense of security, then proven a fool. It’s like the animals here are as upset that I’m in their space as I am with them in mine. I actually enjoy periodically running into beautiful wild creatures…but on the dock….at night….3 feet from my face…? That’s a little much for me.

I went to the safety of the indoors to finish my conversation and had almost forgotten about the whole thing by the time I started walking home. By almost I mean that my heart might never forget and my light was on top alert. I checked all the normal raccoon spots with no sightings and was getting relieved as I got close to home. I was distracted by something in one of the buildings just enough that I momentarily forgot about my frightening encounters until I glanced over to the right to see three raccoons, frozen and five feet from me, waiting for me to pass…hoping they would go unnoticed. Geez. Talk about topping off an evening. It’s hard to rest easy when your body has been startled into alert three times in one evening stroll.

I don’t know if I am brave enough to venture to the dock alone again tonight. It is so pretty…I just can’t help myself.

Yesterday was the “cold plunge” where everyone in our program invites the community to join us in jumping over the dock into the Salish Sea water. I grew up in cold water and used to love swimming in the pool while it was filling up with water from the hose (brrr), but this is slightly different. The air was warm enough for Washington, but when you look around at dinner, there are a few winter jackets in sight. We stripped to our bathing suits and jumped into the breath-taking water. Even I came up for a breath with a start. Not to be outdone by our instructor, I jumped in a few more times from the top of the dock, which is about 20 feet from the surface of the water. Surprisingly, my body felt quite warm in the air compared to the water temp. It was not as bad as I might have thought, and we decided that in order to live a little, we might do it again just for fun. (http://www.beamreach.org/gallery/v/101/coldPlunge/)

The sailboat leaves tomorrow so I am packing my life into one bag once again, this time in search of orca whales.

I hope that all is well!

~libby