the reverse curve of time

~ From Oceanna ~

Hard to believe its been 9 days since I arrived by seaplane to meet with this precious crew of the Crow. In some moments, it feels as if I just arrived and time has been slipping and swirling past without any real linear sense of it. Other moments are expansive and can be dove into like deep green water, where everything and everyone slips away into the outer edges of reality. A whole new quiet world exists here, where dates and clocks don’t matter; only necessities and desires guide the day. In any case, when I think about leaving this place, I get sad and have to remind myself to stay in the present moment.

Be. Here. Now.

On this trip, I have learned the REAL point of keeping a journal… to remember what day it is, where we were yesterday and how may days we were there and what we did. Because, after just a little over a week on the Crow, my mind is no longer reliable this way. I have never read “The Curve of Time” (plan to) but I suspect the name has something to with this concept of time and how it warps to the circumstances of a boat life.

Now, on to the adventure…. I am contributing my Day #1 which would be Day #37 for Julia, Coop and Nate (July 30th).

7/30

There’s a first for everything.

I have never been on a seaplane before. Upon arriving at the docks at Kenmore Air after a seamless morning journey from Port Townsend, I spent an hour watching the planes get plopped in the water by a forklift like tonka toys. The operator could not have been more than 20 years old and I was impressed by her ability and stoic confidence to hurl large metal objects around in the air and place them gently by the dock.

My boarding pass was a laminated piece of paper that had an orca whale on it and the numbers “606”. I wondered if any other passengers waiting to board were given whales for their groups. Orcas were a lucky animal for me and came to me at times of great joy and blessings. My answer soon came when as 10 seater plane called an “otter” (not a beaver, that’s the smaller one) came about the dock painted as an orca whale. “That’s my plane” I thought with an inner smile.

And this was only the beginning…

Coop was texting me, “try to get the copilot seat, if you can!”

How the heck was I going to do that? I had heard it might happen if I was the last to board. This turned out to be far from reality. As I was slyly slinking towards the back of the group, Pilot Ron called out my name. “O-She-Anna?!” That’s not my name but I was familiar with the mispronunciation.

“That’s me.” I stood up on my tippy toes from the behind the group, wondering if I was in trouble.

“You’re gonna be my copilot.” He said (with about 1% of the excitement that burst in my little heart at that statement).

“Lucky gal.” I heard one of the passengers say as I made my way to the plane and took Pilot Ron’s hand to board, not even attempting to conceal their jealous undertone.

Yes, indeed. Yes, indeed.

Within 5 minutes we were skipping off of Lake Washington and high above North Seattle, bypassing all that official and lengthy stuff you have to sit through on a “regular” plane. I marveled at the simplicity of it all, like starting up a car in the morning; easy peasy.

My perspective from the copilot seat was not taken for granted one bit. The landscape below and before us was magnanimously marvelous to take in all at once and involuntary tears came in soft waves lapping at my smiling cheeks. Thank goodness for a mask and sunglasses. I didn’t want to worry Pilot Ron and it was too loud to explain to him they were tears of joy. This proximity to the sky and felt closeness to an earth at birds eye view gave a much needed perspective in order to truly land in this journey that lied ahead.

Over the port side and north, I spotted the Hood Canal bridge I had snapped a photo of the sunrise from just three short hours earlier. From there I could easily trace my way to PT, spotting the infamous mill and its billowing steam clouds. Then on southwest a few miles to my family home for the last 28 years, over looking Discovery Bay.

I felt a sense of relief when PT was in rear view, everything north was a fresh new story to unfold. Gratitude rushed in as I thought of all things and people that had paved the way to this moment. Five weeks of missing Coop were replaced with anticipatory giddiness to be near him again. I thought of my daughters who were so kind and supportive of me taking a trip, a much needed reprieve from 3 jobs and school studies. My sweet friends and family were watching my dog, Koda Brave and holding down the fort. But most of all, I was overwhelmed with the invite to join the Crow crew for the last quarter of their trip. I could only imagine that when Julia, Nate and Cooper were dreaming up this cruise years ago they hadn’t anticipated a fourth crew member. My greatest hope was that I could bring something of value to this precious crew and make sure they knew how incredibly honored I felt to be included.

Thanks to Coops suggestion, the navionics app (downloaded just minutes before boarding) provided me with an experiential geography lesson on the San Juan Islands and beyond. I had only been to a few of them, Blakey, Spieden and San Juan, but it was cool to visually put them in order and perspective. When I spotted Guemes, I could imagine the tales of summers that Coop and Nate had spent there as children at their family home. Guemes still held a special place for them and I could feel in their recollections of times past.

The rest of the islands were new to me except for the countless stories I heard about kayak trips, Race to Alaska and cruises up north by Coop and Nate. Seeing them all now from 3,000 feet was like watching the puzzles pieces of historic world fall into place. These islands were suddenly familiar to me like a cherished childhood storybook.

One hour to Nanaimo to clear customs, another to desolation sound. I was struck by the sheer rock faces and jagged cliffs on the mountains around the icy blue waters of Prideaxhaven. We landed (is that the right word) on the water there and two little boats came up to pick up their friends, plucked right from the plane and hopped away. No place to dock there, I suppose.

One more stop, April Point, before Gorge Harbor where I would rendezvous with the Crow crew. My phone died right before Gorge, but no matter; they would be there. I looked forward to many moment of dead battery to come. As we descended into Gorge Harbor I spotted the Crow right away, so unique and beautiful; a sight to see! Julia and Nate were on deck, waving and smiling. Coop was on the dock to greet me. The pilot opened his side door to dock and Coop was there to help. A big hug from Coop on the deck and then he helped unload the last of the luggage. We said good bye to Pilot Ron and I thanked him for getting me there safely. Hugs all around and a smile that could’ve jumped right off my face into the gorgeous green blue waters.

Julia made us a delicious sandwich lunch on deck and we made a plan for the night to stay at Shark Spit and check out a little beach concert we had been invited to by a passerby friend, Hubert.

And that my friends, is my arrival to the “reverse curve of time”