Did we mention that the good folks at Elliott Bay Marina didn’t answer our radio calls, which forced us to dock in a too-narrow spot with no assistance? Well that’s what happened. But Shannon and Ray made it in from Napa, so our moods brightened considerably. Always great to see our baby.
After an evening of cards and other funny business, time to head out to Port Orchard. Past the cruise ships. By the way, thousands of people pay to take one of these up to Juneau and back. In seven days. Did we mention that’s round trip? In seven days? To Juneau? Ridiculous.
If one were to search long and hard enough for remnants of the original orchard that gave Port Orchard its name, one would be very disappointed indeed. Because Port Orchard honors Mr. H. M. Orchard, a clerk on one of George Vancouver’s Puget Sound expeditions, although it wasn’t called Puget Sound at the time. There never was an actual orchard. Whatever.
After a day of cruising, and exploring shops (Dana), or hanging out at Blue Goose Tavern (everyone but Dana), mostly we played games. Although we raised our girls to be independent, confident, and strong, it’s comforting to know that at least one of us still has superpowers: “Mom! Dad keeps wiggling his finger at me! Make him stop!”
Shannon won the Catan game as usual, but Doug won the much more important game of Annoy Shannon.
While at the Blue Goose we asked the locals if anyone famous lives in Port Orchard. Basically they said no. Which means either (1) they’ve never heard of Delilah or (2) they don’t think she’s worthy of mentioning. Yup, that same dopey Delilah who babbles incessantly on KEZ when Dana insists on listening to Christmas music lives in Port Orchard.
The other important moment at the Blue Goose was when Shannon and Ray learned about the 5th Annual Kitsap County Cornhole Classic, a tournament with prizes that included “cash, trophies, and bragging rights.” Since Shannon and Ray fancy themselves to be expert cornholers and since we had nothing else planned, they signed up.
Their first match unfortunately involved the reigning champs, which led to an embarrassing shut-out for Team Tumbleweed.
But no worries. They later redeemed themselves by squeaking out a win over Ninja Turtles, the last-place team comprised of an exasperated father and an eight-year-old son playing for the first time at regulation distance. Sammy didn’t seem impressed.*
Shannon and Ray won no cash. No trophy. No bragging rights. But they did score a raffle prize worth $25 at Brickhouse 714, where that very evening The Hoffmans—a local country band—were scheduled to play. Grab up the cards and let’s go.
During a break, Hoffman the Elder stopped by our table. As required by common decency if not by law, Doug asked if they knew Rocky Top. “No,” the man said, “but if you’re from Tennessee we have something you’ll like.” Grrr. Shannon predicted that we’d get the bastardized Chris Stapleton version of “Tennessee Whiskey.” Grrr. Yup, that’s what we got, and to make matters worse everyone bullied Doug into smiling at the band as if it was enjoyable. Grrr. Other than that, the music was great.
A couple of other things. Port Orchard has our first Lego store. Full of everything imaginable related to Legos. Odd name though. Did they misspell “Alley?”
And a car show. We’re not that into car shows, but Doc Brown’s DeLorean was kind of cool.
Speaking of cars, the ports of Seattle and Tacoma offload some 200,000 vehicles every year. Which explains why Roll On, Roll Off ships are anchored all up and down Puget Sound. As an example, here’s RCC Compass waiting her turn.
Standing tall in Pete Ohman’s backyard above the Colvos Passage is a 55-foot replica of the Washington Monument. His dad Stan built it some twenty years ago, after Pete and his drinking buddies came up with the idea. We’d probably like hanging out with Pete and Stan.
The smoke and clouds parted just enough for a crappy photo of Mount Rainier. Better than nothing.
Remember those crazy videos of Galloping Gertie? The first bridge at Tacoma Narrows collapsed after fluttering spectacularly in windstorm-driven mechanical resonance. We didn’t go down the narrows, but in another brush with history we passed close enough for a photo of the replacement bridge.
Then in to Gig Harbor.
The daily gloom didn’t seem to faze the Venetian gondoliers.
We’ll be back to Gig Harbor over Labor Day weekend, so didn’t do much exploring. This trip mostly was about Shannon and Ray. A window of sunshine allowed a dinghy ride around the harbor.
The harbor seal we passed didn’t seem impressed.**
On their last day, the kids took the kayaks for a morning spin. Those fuzzy little specks down towards the lower right corner of the drone photo aren’t crumbs on your screen. They’re Shannon and Ray.
Here’s a better shot of them.
But all good things must come to an end, as the cliche goes. In our context that meant taking Shannon and Ray across to Des Moines to catch their flight from SeaTac. Along the way we passed the Point Robinson Lighthouse. The guy behind the fabulous Bloom County comic strip wrote Red Ranger Came Calling, a children’s book heavily featuring Point Robinson and the lighthouse. Supposedly orca pods periodically have played around Point Robinson since the first light was constructed in 1887, although based on our experience we’re skeptical.
We got a nice spot on the visitor dock at Des Moines and might’ve stayed longer, but Ted Bundy killed one of his early victims around there so it seemed wiser to just walk to Wally’s for a delicious farewell lunch and then head back to Gig Harbor.
Awesome few days, but not long enough. Sad to see them go.
Although Gig Harbor is charming and famous and historical, this time around it’s mostly just been a place to stop. So after a quick turnaround and a photo of the cool little underwater world off our stern, we headed back to Seattle.
Here’s the Alki Point Lighthouse, guarding the southern entrance to Elliott Bay. No, it’s not the tall thing. The tall thing is the Space Needle. The lighthouse is the thing in front.
Washington trivia time! Washington is the only state without an official motto. “Alki,” however is the unofficial one. It’s a Chinook word meaning “By and by,” which frankly seems like a dumb motto. But we rounded Alki Point safely and headed into the city.
Sammy’s 4:00 walk took us down a path of sculptures, which maybe we’ll cover further next time we’re here. As a taste though, here’s a naked guy named Sam. Or maybe SAM is the Seattle Art Museum.
Seattle’s Pike Place Market is on every visitor’s must-do list, so of course we went.
Since it’s on every visitor’s must-do list perhaps we shouldn’t have been surprised to find all those visitors clogging up the joint, but we hate crowds so only stayed long enough to buy some pasta. And nuts. And bread. And a candle.
Seattle is home to the first Starbucks, and buying something at the first Starbucks apparently is on the must-do list of enough people to create a block-long line. Fortunately, the first Starbucks was on our must-skip list so we just walked on by and by.
As documented in this blog, we’ve seen some things. Scary things. Interesting things. Clever things. Funny things. Dumb things. Not any really disgusting things, though. Until now. The gum wall along Post Alley is so disgusting that Dana turned around just as we reached the smell. Hundreds of gross people a day stick their gum on top of gum left by prior generations of gross people. Now that’s disgusting.
There’s a lot of Seattle we’re missing, and possibly some of it is neither crowded nor disgusting. Maybe next time. Tomorrow Sammy’s other sister arrives. Wooo!
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* As uncomfortable as it looks to rest your chin on the arm of a folding chair, the arm of a folding chair has to be better than, say, a dock cleat.
** See footnote * above.