Skunked Again!

Of course I was leery this time. Before buying this container of thinner, I carefully looked the label over for "safe", "safety".   It even proclaims, "Thins all colors of paint, stain and varnish".  But I missed "non-flammable", and I should have been tipped off by the opaque white container. 

I am so stupid.  

Yup, you guessed it. I bought another $10 gallon of milk. 

Lesson learned. I will never buy another container of paint thinner unless the container is translucent so that I can see the contents, or the store allows me to open it and sample it before purchase. 

And no, KleenStrip, I will not add your milk to my $60/quart varnish. Not ever. 

Skunked Again!

The Arduous Hike to Enlightenment

Yesterday afternoon we moved the boat from Indian Cove, around the corner to Blind Bay.

We've anchored in both Blind Bay and Indian Cove numerous times, and on many a sun-downer evening in Blind Bay, speculated just exactly where on the shoreline we should look to be looking towards Indian Cove. 

This morning we finally addressed that burning question. We put on our hiking shoes and dinghied over to the ferry landing. As we walked up the hill, we promised ourselves that when we returned we would have earned a nice ice cream cone. 

It was a quiet two mile saunter on paved roads where we waved at every car and every car waved back. At one point there was a car parked in the middle of the road, stationary, talking on a phone. Not a problem as there was no other traffic. And then there was the pleasant conversation we had with the nun, also out walking, also held in the middle of the road. 

It was not at all arduous, and yet we were enlightened. It turns out that Indian Cove is just over the tree line at the back of Blind Bay, much closer than you would think.  And now we know just where to look. 

The ice cream comes were delicious. 

The Arduous Hike to Enlightenment

Hats? Or Visors?

We just spent a couple of days anchored in Roche Harbor, and I think I learned some things from the experience.

First, all the really big boats go to Roche Harbor.  I mean the BIG BOATS - 100+ feet long.  Maybe there isn't enough long dock space in Friday Harbor.  Or maybe the ambience is wrong there - but then I would have no idea what that could mean.  If your boat is, say 120 feet long, what is it that you are looking for at a dock?  In shoreside amenities?  Whatever it is, apparently Roche Harbor has more of it than Friday Harbor... there was a parade of these huge boats going in there every day.

And the other thing...  If I could judge which of the folks aboard those monster yachts were the owners, I noticed that there was a preponderance in headgear.  No, not a preponderance...  it was virtually unanimous.  While those of us in smaller boats wear baseball caps, Tilley hats, Aussie bush hats...  the owners of the Really Big Boats all wore visors.  You know - like a baseball hat, but with the crown missing; almost universally they were white in color.

So I got out my visor - the one with the included hairstyling (not having much of my own, this is helpful).  And even tho it is a black visor, I would swear that we got more waves from the big boats after I put it on...

Hats? Or Visors?

Crabbing our way thru the San Juans

Pulling the crab trap

Retirement is great!  We have little or no schedule, and can stay or go as we please. 

I don't think we have ever spent as many days anchored in the same spot as we have this year.  After all, why not?  In the past, we have always felt the urge to get on to the next place after waking up at anchor.  Not this year.

We got to Parks Bay and just...  stayed.  Other boats came and went.  But we stayed, pulling the crab trap twice a day, morning and nite.  Each time the trap was heavy with crabs; we near-limited each day.  These are Dungeness crabs, and are big ones - the kind where one crab serves two for dinner.  Our freezer is filling up.

I freely admit that the slow lifestyle at anchor combined with the lack of connectivity have made me remiss in my blogging.  I apologize.  Sort of.

This morning we awoke at anchor in Roche Harbor.  And civilization.  And the constant coming and going of boats and seaplanes.   And the ability to go ashore and buy sugar, which we ran out of this morning because I neglected to check our supply before we left the dock.  My bad.

Now, I gotta go check the crab pot.

Crabbing our way thru the San Juans