October, 2015

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Saturday October 10. Never a dull day/night in my marina.

Saturday, October 10th, 2015

Yesterday, on the dock in Arabella’s Landing Marina, I heard a bunch of agitated crows. They were trying to annoy a Bald Eagle, perched on top of the tallest mast in the marina, on “Jam”. This is as close I have been able to take a shot of a Bald Eagle. Magnificent birds.

I have a nocturnal companion, this young Harbor Seal. Just when I am barely asleep he/she climbs on the sugar scoop. I have to tried to chase it off but it keeps coming back and once I leave it alone it must do the same as I do at night. In the morning it is gone. Last week I kept being woken up by, what has to be a larger seal, who keeps whacking the hull with its tail while squeezed between the boat and the dock. Right on starboard where I sleep. Most likely feeding on the same mussels I had for dinner.

This afternoon the owners of Finholm Market and Deli, Monte Hester and Teddy Finholm-Hester gave a reception on the occasion of the completion of the historical mural on the Finholm Market building. I was very glad to be there with quite a few long time acquaintances. Ron Finholm, second generation of the two Finholm brothers, is a good friend and a member of a small church group we belong to. He has had a serious battle with cancer and was able to be present. His youngest cousin Becky Finholm-Lester who I used to see regularly when she worked across the street from me in Tacoma, in the mid seventies  and I had not seen her for nearly forty years was there. John Lantz, even longer, he was a teacher in my sales training at Weyerhauser in 1964. I would run into his wife, Pat, at the Post Office in the nineties.

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Friday sunrise

Friday sunrise

 

Thursday night Dorotich Str and Stanich Dock, from my back porch

Thursday night Dorotich Str and Stanich Dock, from my back porch

Thursday night mussel dinner, home-grown, Arabella's Special.

Thursday night mussel dinner, home-grown, Arabella’s Special.

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Tuesday October 6. On the Sound.

Wednesday, October 7th, 2015

It took me nearly three hours to get from Gig Harbor to my lunch with Rose Marie at Johnny’s Dock in Tacoma, because of the strong flood tide. “Adventuress” was already out on the Sound and too far out of my way. But here are a few shots of her.

On the way back I had company again of a Pacific White Sided Dolphin, like the one I posted on August 24.

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A Pacific White Sided Dolphin vague outline underwater.

A Pacific White Sided Dolphin vague outline underwater

Monday October 5th. An adventurous visitor.

Monday, October 5th, 2015

The 133 foot schooner “Adventuress” put into Gig Harbor this afternoon. She took on water at the “Arabella’s Landing Marina” and is now at the Gig Harbor public dock.

I went out on “Fleetwood” to take some pictures of her coming in. Tomorrow I might have some pictures to show of her under sail. She will try to sail, if wind permits, to Tacoma. I plan sail to Tacoma tomorrow where I have a lunch date with Rose Marie, daughter #2, so,  check in again tomorrow for possible sailing pictures.

You can check her web site for more details and program in Tacoma.: http://www.soundexp.org/

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Saturday October 3rd. Sailors and the MNLF (Moro National Liberation Front)

Saturday, October 3rd, 2015

This week a Canadian sailor was kidnapped in the Southern Philippines. Read the story at:

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/world/canadian-abducted-in-the-philippines-was-in-search-for-paradise/article26552449/philippines25nw1

 

I had a scary encounter on July 5th 2006 on the island of Tawi-Tawi, one of the most southern Philippines islands, while on my way from Borneo to Bali. Here is that part in “Soloman”, soon to be published:

The next evening I stop at one of the most southernmost Philippine islands of Tawi-Tawi and its adjacent island, Bongao.

Technically I need another visa and entry clearance for the Philippines. But I was not questioned. Tawi Tawi is a small paradise of simplicity, beauty and harmony. It has a beautiful tree lined university campus, a branch of the University of Mindanao. The city on Bongao reminds me of Surigao on Northern Mindanao. A very busy port with fishing boats, small commercial vessels and inter-island ferries. I came to do some re-supplying, including the $1.00 a fifth excellent Tandui rum. In the Muslim country of Malaysia it is hard to find any alcohol at all.

A young man insists on being my guide. A bit creepy looking character with a dark long beard and dressed in typical Middle Eastern Muslim garb, dark glasses. I try to tell him that I do not need a guide. When I walk into a barbershop, I figured that he would go his way. He sits across from me on a stool while I get my haircut. It is still early and I feel like a cup of coffee. I invite him and figure that after that he will leave me alone.

When I ask him for his name, he pulls out an ID card. It has his picture and it tells me that Mohammed such and such is a member in Good Standing with the Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) of the Philippines.

The ones that are fighting the Filipino army in Zamboanga and ransom the occasional American. So far I have not seen another white person here.

How am I going to get away from this man?

There are three tickets on the table, for the two coffees and one Danish roll. I pull out the change for it to pay at the cashier. He takes the three tickets and the money and motions that he will pay. But when he gets to the cash register he only produces the two tickets for the coffees. I tell him that he needs to also pay for the Danish roll. He acts as if he does not know what I am talking about. After a back and forth the owner and his wife, shrug their shoulders and do not seem to want to make an issue of it. They probably know this character.

Now what next?

He still tags along. When we pass through an alley, he stops at a vendor’s stall and buys a couple of loose cigarettes from the lady. But when he shortchanges her (with the Danish roll money) she screams at him and quickly a crowd forms. I run for cover.

I have often wondered if that might have hurt his “Good Standing” in the NLF.

Thursday October 1st. A short cruise in the South Sound.

Thursday, October 1st, 2015

Because of the work on the book, I kept postponing a summer cruise. With the actual writing of the English version of “Soloman”done, two weeks ago, I took advantage of the favorable weather forecast. I left Tuesday afternoon and had planned to return tomorrow. There was wind about half of the way to Long Branch. Yesterday I turned around from my planned destination, Jarrell Cove on Hartstene Island. I sailed the first hour or so and then when the sun came through the fog the wind disappeared. I motored back through Pitt Passage and spent the night at anchor in Shaw’s Cove, near Green Point. Right in front of the gorgeous beach home I built there in 1983. I used to moor “Fleetwood” at a float in the cove. I sold the house in 1986 after my second divorce. Feelings of nostalgia and loss, seeing the lights burning in the dining room, but then it would have been difficult to travel the last ten years to 51 countries taking that home along with me. Or even on this short wonderful trip to familiar scenery on the water.  And it made me decide to make these short trips more often when the weather and wind permits. From the Narrows Bridge onward I had a very nice sail and I managed to get the Monitor wind vane to steer the boat, even in fluky winds. I had a problem getting the vane to work on the Jack and Jill race. There is still a learning process to become acquainted with the way this boat is set up. Waiting for the fog to clear yesterday morning in Long Branch, at anchor, I managed to review a chunk of “Soloman”.

 

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Because of homeowner assoc. rules I had to build flat roof but apparently the rules changed since, judging from newer home.

Surf Scoters in Shaw's cove

Surf Scoters in Shaw’s cove

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Can anyone identify? Murrelets?

Can anyone identify? Murrelets?

Spit at high tide in Shaw's Cove looking at Fox Island SW corner.

Spit at high tide in Shaw’s Cove looking at Fox Island SW corner.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A log boom to Olympia

A log boom to Olympia