Homeward Bound

Before we left, when we talked to people about this trip, we would inevitably be asked "where are you going?" I struggled with answering that question. I could say "North," but that wasn't descriptive enough. I could say "I don't know," but that made me sound like I had an even worse grasp on geography than I actually do. (Which isn't a lot.) I could try to explain that "this trip was an experiment to identify what parts of boat life were for us and our kids and what equipment and locations would be a good fit for future travels," but half-way through their eyes would glaze over and they would start looking at their phones for an excuse to stop talking to me. So in the end, I would say something like "Alaska, or maybe Vancouver?"

We didn't go to Alaska. We also didn't go to Vancouver. Summer is half over and we're turning around and headed back to Port Orchard.

I touched on this in the last post, but I want to revisit this idea because, honestly, it's something I struggled with. I told so many people these destinations, and I know it's ridiculous considering how far we've come, but I felt like we failed. We didn't do what we said we were going to do. We didn't complete the assignment. We didn't pass GO to collect $200.

This picture has nothing to do with the text, it was just getting kinda wordy and I figured you could use a break for a cute picture. 

If you've been following along with our other travels, this wasn't the first time I felt this way. On our sailboat trip we dreamed of crystalline Caribbean waters, but never made it past Fort Myers. Writing that post, reporting that we were going home, it felt like surrendering, like losing. And here I am again, failing to bring our boat where we told everyone where we were going. 

But what I realized, both then and now, is that the destination was never the point. As Justin pointed out, we are in the 1% of boaters. Most people don't take their boats outside their home harbors, much less 300 miles into a different country with two toddlers and three cats. We accomplished and learned a lot. We know now that we like going to little towns because it gives us opportunities to take the kids ashore and have things to do. We're considering that marinas might be worth the money once in a while, especially since I'm not yet confident in my dinghy driving abilities. And having not seen them for a few months, we've realized how much we miss our friends and family back in Port Orchard. 

And so we turned around. 

After leaving Ganges, we went to a small uninhabited island called Russell Island. 

The entire island is a park, so we had a convenient dock to tie up little boat and a ramp onto land. I would say state park, but we were still in Canada so that would make it a provincial park, but that doesn't roll of the tongue in the same way. 

You can't go exploring a new island without stuffies. 

The island was inhabited for a few hundred years by a couple Hawaiian families who, according to the informational signs on the island "decided" to stay in Canada instead of going home to the Hawaiian islands they had been forcibly removed from. There are a few buildings on the island where those people lived all the way back in the 1800s. 

We weren't allowed in and I didn't want to wake up any angry Hawaiian ghosts. 

Of course, the kids went straight to the beach to play. Again, they braved the freezing cold water. It was kind of neat to think that a hundred years ago someone else's toddlers probably played the same games on this same beach. 

The log was Morgan's boat. 

Choosing places to go can be tricky. There aren't designated "parking lots" in the water like there are on land so technically we can drop anchor wherever we feel like. But just because we can anchor everywhere doesn't mean we should. Some areas have rough waves, some are unprotected from winds, and some have rocky ground that makes it hard to get our anchor....well, anchored. Russell Island was the last of these. It was also fairly crowded, at least by Pacific Northwest standards. After we anchored safely, another boat showed up and spent a few hours driving in circles, trying to find a spot with soft enough ground for their anchor to catch. Finally, that other boat managed to anchor, but they landed much too close to us for comfort. While I advocated letting them hit us so we could take another boat for our pirate fleet, Justin decided it wasn't worth the effort and to pull our own anchor and move on. 

And so we retraced our steps. We spent some more time at Pender Island again since it was a great anchorage, there were convenient beaches, and there was a free pool for the kids to use. 

Since we had to leave Russell Island in a hurry, I was a little disappointed that we didn't get a chance to try the nearby restaurant. But back at Pender Island, we decided to splurge and visit the fancy restaurant on the South Island. I took advantage of the chance to actually put on a bra and pants without elastic and enjoy a delicious meal. 

I'm always too hungry to remember to take a picture when I first get the food. 

The campgrounds near the pool had a great spot for the kids to run around in and some lawn games for them to try. 

Abigail inherited my athletic ability. 

But eventually, it was time to leave that glorious land of maple syrup and socialized healthcare. Entering the US was much easier than leaving it. We downloaded an app that allowed us to have a brief video call with a border agent who cheerfully cleared us to re-enter the country and the San Juan Islands. I didn't realized that it was going to be a call with a camera on and was surprised he let me back in looking like a sasquatch who only wears a bra for very special occasions. 

Our first stop back in the US was Stuart Island. We took the kids back to play on the beach, and I remembered the annoying thing about this anchorage: the goats. While sitting in the hot tub in the evening, gazing out at the peaceful mountains and serene water, we would bombarded by a very obnoxious "BAAAAAAAAA." Yes, yes, you're goats, we get it. No need to shout about it. Calm down. 

Next came an anchorage between Victims and Orcas Island. (It turned out the victims were Native Americans, unfortunately.) The anchorage was next to a summer camp, and it was fun to watch the preteens flail around in canoes, scramble around rocks, and have lots of loud adventures. But I definitely preferred listening to the laugher of children to the screaming of goats.

We treated ourselves to dinner at a hotel and restaurant nearby. The hotel was cute and quaint and our kids got a chance to play with some other kids their age while they waited for dinner. 

Morgan was the one who dressed up this time. 

Our next stop was a little town on Orca's Island we hadn't visited before called Eastsound. Eastsound had lots of restaurants and places to check out and explore. Our first stop was an art gallery next to the beach. 

As per usual, I reminded the kids not to touch anything in the gallery. This went well until Abigail saw the open set of paints and brushes. I told her that was for the grown up artists, not her, and she was not happy. The gallery owner kindly offered the kids some extra watercolor paintings from his student classes to take home, but Abigail was still disappointed. In an attempt to cheer Abigail up, he did the worst thing anyone could ever possibly do to a parent and pointed out she could go across the street to check out the candy store. I considered throwing a paintbrush in his eye.

Somehow we managed to make it past the candy store and to explore the rest of the town. Of course, our first destination was the playground. 

Who needs specialized playground equipment when you can swing from a bar?

Next to the playground was a town market, much like we encountered in Kingston. At this market, however, was a teenager selling balloon animals. Well, he was trying to sell balloon animals, but his raging hormones didn't allow him to do much more than stare open-mouthed at the teenaged girls flirting with him at his booth. It took him seventeen tries and many popped balloons before he was able to cobble together a sword for Abigail and a flower for Morgan. 

So many unsuspecting people to stab. 

On our way back we encountered a wild piano left open for wandering toddlers to bang on. I'm sure the community was grateful for the kids' spontaneous performance. 

Mozart, eat our shorts. 

We left the anchorage at Orcas Island for one of our last stops in the San Juan Islands: Spencer Spit State Park. The park takes up a large swath of Lopez Island with campgrounds, beaches, marshes and lots of opportunities to get messy.

Is there enough wood for them to build their own boat?

 There were enormous shells bigger than the kids' heads and wild animals scampering around the beaches and marshes. Morgan was terrified by a mouse that tried to befriend us. 

Morgan decided she only likes gray mice. 

I did everything within my power to wear the kids out. 

Get that cardio in.

One thing I will say is great about this summer exploring islands on the boat is it's rare we encounter a bedtime where the kids aren't absolutely exhausted. 

No tree branches were harmed in the making of this clip. 

The reasons we decided to turn around and back are good ones, I think. Continuing further north would only get more stressful as the weather turns and the kids won't have as many fun opportunities to play outside once it starts getting cold. Also, they deserve to play with others their own age. And while we have done as much as we can to introduce them to other kids, life on a boat is a solitary one. Everyone is looking forward to a return to routine and the start of a new school year. And while we didn't make it too far north, we packed a lot into this summer. Many families are lucky to have one week of vacation on the water. We've had months. 

Tl;dr: We turned around and started heading back to Port Orchard.