Off The Coast of Ballard: PAST PRESENT AND FUTURE

The weekend was a combination in looking towards the future while enjoying both the present and the past.

Saturday we dove into taxes. Looking to the future, Mom had gathered all her receipts and statements for all activity to prepare a budget and had combined that with the taxes. A sort of scavenger hunt ensued, trying to ferret out the tax documents from amongst all the other assorted documents. It did get done without too much frustration. We narrowed the list of questions down to 2 or 3 and called it good.

Mom had mentioned the previous night there was a dinner party Saturday night, but all the guests had to be at the house no later than 5pm. There was a surprise in store and she was pretty tight lipped as to what it was.

Bruce and Carol were in Friday Harbor and Carol’s brother and sister in law were coming over on a later ferry, so I played taxi driver to get Bruce and Carol to whatever surprise awaited at the house. In the meantime some of Mom’s old friends, Ed and Judy and Bill and Carol came over and as the clocked ticked to 5pm, several cars came down the driveway.

It was the ‘Island Chordsmen’ and 15 singers and a conductor arrived at the house and in beautiful barbershop quartet harmonies they serenaded the group with Valentines day songs.

Soon it was time to get Lindy and Lori and with the wine flowing the stories started. Seemed many of us had experiences with the coast guard - Bruce and I aboard a 21 foot bayliner just south of Juneau, Alaska with a broken prop in the middle of humpback whales, a shore full of bears, and a spare prop that spun the wrong way (the long version is entertaining).

Then Ed had a close call a few years ago hunting. Seems his hunting dog wouldn’t fetch a bird which turned out to be a smart thing. For the dog. It was a cold January late afternoon with a screaming ebb and a strong south wind. Ed jumped in a small boat and as he rowed he realized the combination of the current and wind precluded him from returning to shore. As the light was failing, the boat sprang a leak and began to fill with water. Bailing by hand he managed stay afloat and get to a small island. What was supposed to be a 5 minute row at 3pm to retrieve a duck turned into a near midnight retrieval of himself in a metal basket and hauled up to a Coast Guard helicopter.

Mom then told my sister’s story when she was in junior high. What should have been a 15 minute trip for her and a friend late one april afternoon from the cabin to Roche turned into a 10pm rescue effort (also involving a helicopter) after the engine failed and my sister tied to kelp off Sentinel island.

One of the better non coast guard story was Lindy’s close call with a planer the previous week. Holding up 3 bandaged fingers he related his efforts to fulfill a 20 year old promise to make 6 cabinet doors. His labors were interrupted by the close encounter which involved a blood trail from the shop to the kitchen and a prompt ride to the emergency room.

We were all laughing at our errors and ill luck, but all were there to tell the tales with all extremities still attached.

Sunday was more of a focus on the future as Mom and I attacked the sword ferns. A landscape guy told her if you thwack back the old growth in February, you’ll get better growth in the spring. We either accomplished that or killed them all. We’ll know in a few weeks.

Sunday night was a look back as we went through some 40 year old slides.

Mom and Dad had gone up to Desolation sound several times over the course of a few years and there were 3 pictures, taken from the same place at the same anchorage that were identical.

There were a few other pictures that re-affirmed I am extraordinarily lucky.