the reverse curve of time

~ From Coop ~

In the past 5 days of traveling south the water has fluctuated over 23 degrees Fahrenheit, with 73.8 near Cortes’ Gorge Harbor and 49.8 between Stuart and South Pender Islands. The good news is that the few beers we have left in the bilge are much colder than they were for most of the summer. And in a little over a month we will enter “porch beer season,” where you can leave your beers on the porch and they will usually be cold until roughly early April. There’s a bunch of stuff between those dates to mark time, but the important part is that there is cold beer on the porch.

As soon as we came through Gabriola Pass to get into the Canadian Gulf Islands from the Straight of Georgia, we could feel the dense cold air that clung to the waters surface before the breeze picked up and mixed it up like the grenadine at the bottom of a Shirley Temple. It’s counterintuitive that the water gets colder as you travel south from Mittlenatch Island, the geographic middle of the waters between Vancouver Island and BC mainland.

Yesterday as we crossed a glass flat Strait of Juan de Fuca, I laughed when I checked the weather forecast for Bainbridge Island. 90 degrees! How can that be? I’m wearing pants and a down jacket! The temperatures on fast-moving water churning the thermocline (marine science with Bruce Claiborne!) really make a difference in surface air temperatures. But I’m not complaining, just noticing. Always grateful for a comfortable crossing, almost assuring that we never scared mom too bad on this trip. Only 30ish miles to go from Mats Mats to Port Madison, where we will unpack our salty sweaty clothes and prepare for showering more than twice a month and doing laundry more than twice a season.

The cooler mornings and evenings are hinting at this mid-August transition that I first remember noticing during my last session of the summer as a camp counselor at Camp Orkila. From walking tons of miles each day to playing games in the woods and on the beaches and connecting with kids in the ways that I had appreciated my counselor’s when I was a camper. Being at camp both as a camper and a counselor are some of my favorite memories and certainly helped guide me to my current role as a teacher. After Orkila I always told myself that if there was a way to have a job that felt as invigorating, physically healthy and meaningful as “camp counselor” that I could happily do that as a career. So here I am feeling healthy, grateful and fulfilled from this summer adventure, ready more than ever to get back to Hyla Middle School to support young people as they transition from children to young adults and as our summer weather slowly hints at the changes ahead.

I’m writing this from my bunk, as Purple Martins cruise by the boat and land on the spreaders. Their chirpy song reminds me of sleeping with my windows open when I lived in Lucille’s guest house (coincidentally called The Crow’s Nest) on Eagle Harbor in my 20s. They are a favorite bird of mine with their voracious appetites for bugs and specific requirements for communal living.

There are so many stories to tell, and these are only some of them. This might change after a few days off the boat, but my biggest introspective takeaway from these past two months with my family has been having time to slow down. Time to sit on deck and watch the sunrise without any thoughts of what I want or need to do next. Time to meditate on little things like the wake that stretches out behind us at a pace just barely over walking through the grocery store, or the feelings that changing seasons can bring.

We spent the last 3 days on Stuart Island visiting our friend Lisa. With roughly 20 year-round residents, this island has a very unique feel. Lisa bounced us around the back of her Toyota pickup as we showed Julia this place that has more wild sheep than people and the only business is a treasure chest where you can pick out a t-shirt or coloring book and mail them the money later – the Honesty Box.
Stuart has a long history of people living a quiet life, but not an easy one. With no ferry everyone travels by boat (some by small aircraft), no power grid, and very little water. The closest store is Roche Harbor, which is similar to shopping at Walt’s Lynwood Market. Nate and I have been visiting Stuart for years but recently with Lisa as our guide, we have wondered if there could be a way to spend more time, more frequently in this wonderland. There is a school that has been silent for a few years after its last two students moved away. But there is PE equipment still in the porch, books still on the shelves, and a very familiar feeling of beautiful small school on a farm, on an island.

When Nate and I finally rowed Bunny Whaler into Ketchikan I remember we both felt like we could keep going, we were finally in the groove and had built resilience to the uncomfortable challenges of being wet and cold. Yesterday marked 8 weeks since the Crow took off from Port Madison, and while I know Mama Julia is ready to enjoy her garden, and I have to prepare for school, and Nate has a list of projects before the PT Wooden Boat Festival, and Oceanna has work-family-Koda Dog- and school to return to, we feel like we could just keep going. And we will with the memories of warm water, full hearts, calm minds, and frequent reminders that there is so much to see. To quote Ferris Bueler who was quoting someone else, “life moves pretty fast, and if you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you’ll miss it.”