As certain as taxes, boat units add up, usually in big bouts at a time. This spring and summer have been no exception to the spending quotient.

With my husband pacing the deck, mumbling about cruising in warmer waters, I examine the checkbook. Several boat units ago, we had a thread-bare main, a hand-me-down head sail and a leaky dumpster-find of a mainsail cover. Now we our boat is properly outfitted with hand tailored sailed. Plus we acquired a pretty sail cover that cleverly matches our dodger. (Well, almost. The dodger is ever so slightly weathered and sun faded.) Sails, as most sailors will agree, are necessary, for sailing. (Great circular reasoning, eh?)

While gearing up for the 3rd of July Poulsbo trip, a look-see of the engine revealed a fangled part. Sorry, I don’t remember which one, since I leave the truly mechanical bits to qualified souls who specialize in the workings of diesel engines. This part, however, set us back 1 boat unit ($1,000) and derailed (or would it be docked) our Poulsbo trip.

Fireworks missed, but engine now operates nearly perfectly, with only a small leak. Plus, our batteries are now properly wired so our power system is back and running. All this in time for our upcoming sail in September to the San Juans–and possibly beyond.

Sunday started off as so many spring days do in Seattle. The official term, I believe, is “marine layer,” which makes it sounds way cooler than gloomy and gray.

After chugging coffee, washing dishes and packing potentially flying bits away, the sun slowly crept into the Puget Sound. Following a brief stop at the (close your eyes if your squeamish) pump-out station, we motored out of Shilshole Marina armed with sunglasses and ball caps. I pointed our boat into the wind to hoist our (new-to-us) mainsail. Falling off, I killed the engine and watched as my husband unfurled our brand new jib.

As our luck turned out, we had just enough wind to lazily lope, jibe, jibe again and then drift on the inbound tide. With such light winds, I was able to kick back under the dodger and read my book. Sure, I helped with a few lines and steered from time to time, but overall I felt lulled into a satisfied sleepiness by the wakes from passing container ships and Bayliners.

After a couple hours of drifting, we dropped (and rolled up) sails, turned on the diesel and motored back into the marina. In our blissful sleepy state, we completely forgot to put out fenders and ready lines until we were in our fairway. (Very unlike us!) As my husband bounded around readying the boat for our landing, I gently eased her into our slip. What a great way to spend the day in Seattle!

Two baby orcas were spotted off Victoria and later near Nanaimo, Canada. According to Ken Balcomb, executive director of the Center for Whale Research in Friday Harbor, the orca infants, estimated to have been born in January, are “vigorous and in good shape.”

While your first instinct may be to toast this joyous occasion, you may want to wait to pop the cork on your bottle of Champagne. Unfortunately, there is a 50 percent mortality rate for orcas under 1 year old.

For more information, see the article by a Victoria Times Colonist at http://www.theprovince.com/Technology/baby+killer+whales+spotted+coast/1303831/story.html.

But, as we inch further into the year, the days are getting longer and the sun appears sporadically just long enough to remind us spring is on the way. That is, right before it starts snaining (snow-raining)!

For a brief moment as the sun sinks towards the horizon, when colors take on that hyper-real hue, I find myself staring at the sailboats drifting past the Olympics and I fall in love with Seattle all over again. Then the northerly wind hits me, my nose starts to drip and I awake from my wistful romantic stupor just in time to snap a shot of the sunset.

Storytelling Snowman

As our Subaru slid sideways across the slippery road, I wondered, when will this end? Yet, it seems as though the end is nearing since the flakes falling earlier have morphed into drops of rain. Nordic skiers and snowpeople of Seattle, beware, your idyllic conditions are rapidly deteriorating.
For Santa’s sake, I hope that this rain doesn’t freeze into more ice tonight. My sleigh was already diverted from Seattle during the shut-down at SeaTac, thus leaving my Amazon gifts on an odd route of Arizona to Greensboro, NC. I’m not counting on those presents to arrive on time.
I, however, have a new mantra today. I will not be a grumpy elf! Since tomorrow, after packing up the Subaru, we’ll drive north for a festive gathering of friends to celebrate. Then, by the weekend, snow will be a memory. Maybe. Then I can look back and laugh about shoveling snow with a dust pan.
Happy Holidays!

Update: Apparently the chemical that the port sprayed onto the dock Tuesday morning was suppose to be used PRIOR to the snow fall to prevent the ice build-up. But, this morning warmed up a bit more than predicted and melted away much of the ice. I used my hiking boot to shovel slosh off our finger pier. (The chemical mentioned earlier is reported as environment-, boat- and pet-friendly.)

Since then, I’ve had several encounters with orcas while sailing. I have witnessed pods converging and socializing, and individuals of all ages spy hopping, breaching, and hunting. The whoosh of air expelled from an orca’s blow hole stops my breath. Then, to see four-tons of black and white mammalian momentarily suspended above the water is nearly indescribable. While it seems to defy the laws of gravity, the act itself conjures up primal feelings of awe and respect.

Puget Sound orcas, historically, have faced many challenges, arguably starting with the rounds-ups that lasted from 1965 to 1977. During this time 252 orcas were netted and 50 juveniles were relocated to various aquariums. Many orcas died during the capturing process or shortly after captivity.

It seems almost ironic, and cruel, that as the Puget Sound orcas celebrate their three-year anniversary as an endangered species, they have lost seven individuals from their population. More than likely, the missing orcas are dead, possibly from starvation. Of the seven missing, two are reproductive females, so the impact on the population may be felt for years to come. (To read more, click this link to go to the Oct 24 Seattle Times’ article.)

What is the orcas fate? While that is uncertain, I contemplate a print that hangs in my studio, entitled, “Blackfish in Time,” by Bill Helin, a Tsimshian Indian Nation artist from Canada. It depicts several orcas swimming, with the main orca merging from flesh to sculpted wood. I had hoped that the meaning was the orca, or blackfish, was captured in time through art. Now, the truth seems that the orca may be fading away, only too soon to be a memory of the elders and a symbol carved into wood.

Who knew that lithe ballerinas worked so hard? I had my doubts when I picked up Elements: Ballet Conditioning from Amazon, but soon my legs were shaking, my thighs were burning, and my abs were aching! This workout with ex-ballerina, Elise Gulan is challenging, even if you can dash out a 5-K, no problemo! Plus, her voice is soothing and provides zen-like encouragement.

The great thing about this DVD (and no, I’m not getting paid to say this) is that it is reasonably adaptable to small spaces, such as sailboats! You don’t need any equipment, and the benefits include increased flexibility, muscle tone, and core strength. I have even noticed an improvement in my running and posture.

Luckily this morning’s empty water tank only prevented me from washing my dishes. As far as my dishes go, I am stingy with water. With each grunt and groan of our water pump, I tally up our water usage. I try to conserve water mostly because I’m lazy. I don’t want to fill my water tank, especially in inclement weather. And, I definitely do not enjoy emptying the holding tank; it is not only disgusting, but it requires a trip to the pump-out dock. So, I ration, which results in a bi-monthly pump-out regime.

When on land, I know I use far more water. It is easy. No tanks to fill or empty. No thought involved. Turn on tap and thou shall receive. Let’s take hand-washing dishes, for example. According to the City of Lake Oswego’s Waste Treatment Plant’s website, the national average per person daily water usage for dish-washing (by hand) is 20 gallons. At that rate, my 40-gallon water tank would be empty in two days!

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to sound self-righteous. I’m just as guilty as the average person of abusing water. I shower, do laundry, and wash my car. (I should probably clarify that I no longer shower aboard, so I linger in the shower a little longer than before.)

The national average of water usage, according to the Lake Oswego Water Treatment Plant’s website, is at 183 gallons per capita daily. Water shortages have happened, are happening, are are sure to happen in the future. In that regard, we are all liveaboards, on a global boat, known as the world, sharing the same resources.

While moored, I welcome the fog. When out on the boat, I prefer not to rely on instruments. The throaty horns of ships that I enjoy at the dock morph into ghoulish reminders of the insignificant blip we cast on the ship’s RADAR screen.

Tangerine and rust leaves stand stark against the white canvas of the day. The blanket of clouds warms the air of the clear, crisp night.