Hi all, good morning! I wanted to share some links with you that might be helpful if you are planning a trip up to the San Juans.
Anacortes Ferry
Just be careful to read all the little symbols on the schedule so you don't end up stranded on an island when you needed to be headed home. Also if you don't want to sit in the long customs line, do not go on a ferry that originates from Sidney. You will be subject to a long wait to be questioned and searched when you did not even leave the country.It's a pain in the .....
Friday Harbor
Lots of links on this page to lodging, restaurants, activities etc.
Roche Harbor
You can even look at a live video of the resort here
Awesome places to visit! Check 'em out!
Ok, Now I'm going to get back to the Boat and Be Damned...............
To catch up where we left off, please refer back to the earlier posts.
Melvin leaned over the keyboard, cleared his throat and began to warble his version of the ancient cowboy classic:
"Oh give me a home,
Near the spray and the foam,
Where the Chris Crafts and Wheelers all play,
Where seldom is heard
A discouraging word,
And the cruisers weigh anchor all day.
Home, Home on the drink,
Where the inboards and outboards chug by,
Where cowpokes all sail
Up the deepwater trail,
And each rancher's a seafairing guy!"
Melvin continued with his version of "Don't fence me in".
"Let me ride on the tide, where the flying fishes hide,
Don't fence me in,
Let me cruise where I choose, where the singing catfish mews,
Don't fence me in,
Take me far from the beef and the meat for slaughter
Steer me from the steers into some open water,
Found myself a boat and I'm dern glad I bought 'er,
Don't fence me in!"
Melvin held me at the piano while he displayed his talents. He showed me how he had converted "Boots and Saddles" into "Boots and Paddles." He was obviously enamored of all things nautical, having fallen in love with the sea at the tender age of 12.
"It all started with a picture of a canoe I spotted in a mail order catalog," Melvin explained. "Saved my pennies for years to get that craft." Gave up ice-cream sodas, movies and even girls. Soon as I got the canoe I started my first trip. Had to haul the boat over twenty miles of desert to find me a creek to sail her in. Finally cruised down the Rio Grande but sprung a leak after ramming a prospector on the river bank. Old sourdough had his stern athwart my starboard beam. Sunk my canoe like a ton of beef. But he paid me off in gold nuggets. Enough to buy a rowboat. Ever since then I guess I've been plumb loco about boats."
The roster of the Tumbleweed Lake Yacht Club included many of the local businessmen:
Cyrus J. Baldingate, the local trucker, said:
"Reckon I can take care of any sailing man who wants open water when old Tumbleweed's bone dry. We load up some of my trucks with our boats and take off for the nearest big slice of liquid. Sometimes we head for the Rio Grande, the Mississippi or any other reliable river. Once we went clear up to Lake Michigan just to see what a real fat parcel of water looked like. Don't let anybody ever tell you we Midwestern sailors can't navigate, padner- I've hauled our boats to every big hunk of wet stuff this side of the China Seas."
----------------------End until tomorrow-----------------------------------
Have a great day all!