We left a little early today, deciding that we would stop by Roche Harbor again to show Allison and Warren the sculpture garden that is nearby. Kristine and I hadn’t had time to stop in and see it our last time here because of the alternator repair hassle. It’s really pretty interesting, and they change the sculptures every so often, so there were a number of new ones we hadn’t seen when we were here a few years ago. Stopping at Roche also enabled us to get wifi access to check email and do some online chores.
Roche has a dock for short term visitors, about two hours or so, but it’s first come first served and pretty popular. We figured if we got there before the lunch rush we might get a spot and we did, although not before exchanging a few words with some other boaters who were obviously getting cranky with the heat. We saw a spot open up as we approached so we headed for it, but another small boat intercepted us and shouted that they had been waiting. Fair enough, we let them have it but asked if they could move one of the other boats already docked forward a bit after they landed and then there would be room for us too. “No problem” they said, probably happy that we weren’t challenging them for the spot. They landed and shuffled the other boat for us, but as we headed in to take the spot another boat captain started yelling at us that he was next. He had been anchored out and we had no idea he was even waiting – most people either mill about to wait or else they anchor and take the dinghy ashore. In addition, he was probably ten feet longer than us and we didn’t think he could fit in the spot anyway. Nevertheless, I told him to go ahead and after pulling their anchor, sending their own dinghy to try and move the boats again, and a bunch of yelling and arm-flapping, they finally decided that they couldn’t fit and told us to go ahead. We smugly proceeded to do so.
We picked up a newspaper at the little store and saw this headline on the front page:
Roche has a dock for short term visitors, about two hours or so, but it’s first come first served and pretty popular. We figured if we got there before the lunch rush we might get a spot and we did, although not before exchanging a few words with some other boaters who were obviously getting cranky with the heat. We saw a spot open up as we approached so we headed for it, but another small boat intercepted us and shouted that they had been waiting. Fair enough, we let them have it but asked if they could move one of the other boats already docked forward a bit after they landed and then there would be room for us too. “No problem” they said, probably happy that we weren’t challenging them for the spot. They landed and shuffled the other boat for us, but as we headed in to take the spot another boat captain started yelling at us that he was next. He had been anchored out and we had no idea he was even waiting – most people either mill about to wait or else they anchor and take the dinghy ashore. In addition, he was probably ten feet longer than us and we didn’t think he could fit in the spot anyway. Nevertheless, I told him to go ahead and after pulling their anchor, sending their own dinghy to try and move the boats again, and a bunch of yelling and arm-flapping, they finally decided that they couldn’t fit and told us to go ahead. We smugly proceeded to do so.
We picked up a newspaper at the little store and saw this headline on the front page:
It confirmed what we’d been thinking – it was hot. We looked around at the sculpture garden and did our other chores. Checking email we were dismayed to learn that my brother Kirk’s mother in law passed away. She was a great lady who had battled cancer off and on for many years, beating it each time until now. Kristine and I knew her a little and really enjoyed her, we were sorry to hear the news.
We left the dock and headed to a nearby bay called Westcott (or Westscott on some charts, I haven’t been able to figure which is the official name). It one of two bays that kind of intersect, the other is the home of “English Camp” which is a historical park that marks where the English military camped while squaring off against the American military in 1859 in the Pig War. Without going into the complete history lesson, it seems that there was a lot of contention between the British, who governed Canada, and the US over where the international boundary should be drawn through all these islands, so both countries had a military presence. Pressures boiled over when somebody on one side killed a pig that belonged to somebody on the other side and the Pig War erupted. Anyway, the issue was finally settled but the remnants of the camp still exist and draw tourists by car and boat.
Allison and Warren decided that rather than study too much history, they would cool off in the bay:
This is typically a good source of crab, so we dropped a trap and will check our luck in the morning. We counted 72 traps in the bay when we motored in, so I’m not expecting too much. However there’s also a very productive clam bed just behind where we anchored and there is a low tide about 7:00 in the morning, so I will be there for the sure thing.
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