Just Like Ketchikan

I've traveled the water route of the Kwakiutls, the Haida's, and the Tshimshian's, through the maze of islands and green water to a land of where there is no shoreline, just steep rocky shores. I remembered my trips to Alaska, but no I was still securely tied up to my slip. It's just that when I look outside its just like being in Ketchikan. There's just enough rain to make you wet going down the dock, but at the same time not enough to bother you. You notice the concentric circles the drops make in the water, but again they're not so many to really notice that it is raining. Finally there is no relief to the sky just grey, ubiquitous grey. Standing outside my boat looking at Puget Sound really mentally took me back to SE Alaska.

As with other Friday afternoons I tinkered around a bit and then started the engine. It roared to life easily. I reduced the throttle to 500-600 RPM and then put it in gear to let the transmission get a work out too. The boat tugged at its mooring lines wanting to leave but I checked them they're tight and snug. We are not going any where today, except where my imagination takes me. I let the boat run in gear for about 30 or so minutes, before I shut her down.

A friend from North Vancouver Island calls and says, "We're thinking of cruising to Dixon Entrance and up Alice Inlet." Funny I tell them it looks just like SE now in Olympia. They comment that in Port McNeill the weather is nice. Again they ask, "You coming with us this summer?" I reply that at this time I am unsure. I tell them the grey has got me down in the dumps. My "grey mind" reminds me of the endless hours of motoring, not the scenery, the crabbing, the fishing, the adventure. I am grey just like the sky and water. Disappointed they leave me with a final jab - Canada will win hockey gold over the US. I hang up and return to my grey mood. Not even that jab could get me out of my grey funk.

I must have sent out vibrations to the world that I am feeling grey because others call and text me about adventure and exciting things. I remain grey. I call a friend in Ketchikan and she replies that "Yep yesterday was grey, but today is beautiful with sunny skies." I am undeterred in my mood. I am grey. By now the outside grey has turned to black. I figure I better leave my Friday visit to my floating refuge before I turn black myself. Just then as I stow away things in the cabin I begin to feel the warmth of the boat, I stop and pour a final finger of rye, and then it magically comes back to me the memories of warm days, green water, mountains, ravens, orcas, and eagles. The adventure that always made me go beyond Puget Sound. To follow the trail of the Kwakiutls, the Haida's and Tshimshians. Hmmm? Alice Inlet? I continue to think about that as I walk down the dock in the light rain, I was dry but now I am wet again. Just like Ketchikan.