The weather turned and we’re cold, so that’s it for cruising this year

A few days ago the Seattle Times literally announced that this past Wednesday would be the last pretty day UNTIL NEXT SPRING!  Nothing drives us off the boat faster than the threat of only cold and rain as far as these things can be predicted.  So tonight we’re in Twin Falls, Idaho.  Halfway home.  Time to catch up with the final blog post until we start Tumbleweed’s Great Alaska Expedition next May.

When we last posted, we were on Bainbridge Island.  Remember that cool photo of the original pickleball court?  But we couldn’t stay on Bainbridge Island forever, because (1) there’s no place on the island to store Tumbleweed, and (2) Tom and Deb were meeting us in Des Moines.  Wooo!  Nothing but gloom along the way.  Booo!

But as the great Jim Croce observed, sometimes skies are cloudy, and sometimes skies are blue.  Just like that the clouds disappeared.  Ok technically not all the clouds disappeared, but the gray ones did.

Which is a good thing because we promised our guests clear warm skies and loads of fun.  They rolled in right on time, which allowed for a nice walk through the woods to the water treatment plant and back.

We even treated them to a decent sunset.

As previously noted, Tom is Danish and Deb is Finnish and since all of those Scandinavian countries basically are the same we figured they’d enjoy Poulsbo.  On previous trips up we’d noticed the charted “Deperming Ranges,” but we figured they probably had something to do with curly hair and wouldn’t affect us.  Plus we were too lazy to research them.  This time we made time.  Turns out these ranges are where Naval Base Kitsap demagnetizes submarines to hide them from magnetic detection sensors and magnetic mines.  Which means it would make much more sense to call them “Demagnetizing Ranges,” but whatever.  We passed through them unfazed.

Obviously the first order of business in Poulsbo was the now-traditional photo of visitors in silly Viking helmets.

And also the now-traditional stop for goodies from Sluy’s.

On our hike around town we passed a nice looking lady offering a price break on tarot readings and Reiki.  Shockingly to the two of us who returned to the boat to watch football, the other two of us stopped and patronized the joint.  Except for the fact that he recently died, the Amazing Randi—one of Doug’s heroes—would be disgusted.  RIP Randi.

The band at the pavilion played the kind of music Tom and Deb like and not the kind we like, but the ice cream made it tolerable.

Ok, this is new.  Insane Clown Posse?  Little Orphan Annie convention?  Five women who lost the same bet?

Poulsbo is where that cute lil seal popped up by the kayak.  This probably isn’t the same one, but we can’t be sure.

On the way down to Gig Harbor, Rainier showed us a new face, this one with a familiar comb-over.   The UFO cloud was an added bonus.

Speaking of seals, this one welcomed us back to Arabella’s.

Kind of a quick stop in Gig Harbor, but time enough to spot a couple of new things.  Black Dog!  Maybe someday Black Dog Bikinis will have a corporate sailboat.

How cool would it be to be The Finest Citizen?  According to the plaque, Lee Makovich had six kids, was a big deal in the fishing world, and was a school board member.  The first of those simply suggests virility.  The latter two might make him a fine citizen, but the finest?  Seems more likely that one of those six kids wound up on the plaque committee.

We’d planned for a leisurely breakfast, a leisurely cruise over to Des Moines, and the traditional leisurely lunch at Wally’s before Tom and Deb caught their flight back to Scottsdale.  But then we got up and looked at the weather.  Exactly two days of decency before the wind and rain arrived.  Sorry Tim and Deb.  If we’re going to get to Anacortes in two days, no time to dilly dally.

Another face of Rainier, this time without the silly hairpiece.

Basically we stopped at Des Moines just barely long enough to push Tom and Deb onto the dock.  No Wally’s.  As always, we greatly enjoyed their company.  We won’t publish all of the meaningful results, but Deb won the practice game.

Fortunately the wind and waves cooperated after we left Des Moines and headed north.

Unfortunately, we had another eight hours.  The sun was setting by the time we turn in by the giant white pumpkin.

Actually, that’s not a giant white pumpkin at all.  It’s a Navy something or other.  This entire part of Whidbey Island is one huge Naval base, which we learned when the nice guy on the boat next to us rushed out to tell Doug to bring the drone back asap.  The dude was on the team that designed the Navy’s automated drone capture system—which detects and seizes even innocent drones like ours—and he knew ours was just a few feet below becoming a goner.  Only Doug’s judicious use of an altitude ceiling prevented a third and final drone disaster.

Whoever named these floating port-o-potties deserves a raise.

Right outside Oak Harbor Marina stands a statue honoring all the topless women anxiously waiting for their fishermen husbands to return from sea.

Anyway, Oak Harbor is a cute enough town, although the only oaks we saw were on the mural.

The next morning was foggy enough to be dangerous, but not quite so foggy as to make us regret having previously used up all our fog puns.  The fog hovered well below the top of Mt. Baker, which looked cool enough but wouldn’t have been much help if an inattentive fisherman speeding back to his topless woman crashed into us.

The fog cleared well before we reached Anacortes, however, which allowed us to enjoy the start of fall.  Also, the women waiting for their men in Anacortes are either more modest or less fun than their Oak Harbor counterparts.

And there, the enjoyable part of the summer ended.  Rain and cold all the way to Pleasant Harbor to retrieve the truck and rain and cold most of the way back, although the clouds sort of parted just long enough for a photo of Deception Pass from the bridge and a rainbow from the road.

More rain and wind and cold while we organized and packed and loaded, barely leaving us a window for hotdogs.

The summer started in Blaine and ended in Anacortes, with lots of cool stuff along the way.  Pacific Northwest cruising is nothing like East Coast cruising.  No rivers.  No locks.  Very few bridges.  Deep water.  Beautiful scenery.  Fun times with friends and family.  Not better or worse, but different.

Here’s the final leg.

The last note relates to the haul out.  This was new.  Basically you drive up on a trailer just like we did with ski boats.  In Tumbleweed it’s terrifying, but we made it.

Happy Halloween, Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year.  We’ll be back in seven months.