Daydreaming on the Slough

Well, we've moved the boat.  We are also exhausted, but those are stories for another day. 

It has occurred to me that I haven't described the marina where our lovely boat has lived for the better part of a year and it bears mentioning.

The place we discovered the boat was up Ebey Slough, near Everett.  It's the sort of place where old boats go to die.  But it did work for the previous owners and us for the last several months to have a cheap place to keep her and work on her without requiring insurance.

It's an otherworldly place, a nameless (as far as I know) island in the Snohomish River delta.  The grass is 6 feet tall, and there are many blackberries, red elderberry, willows, alders that hide the freeway trestle bridge from view. And it's tidal, the flow of water changes direction four times a day.  I saw the same large uprooted stump float back and forth one long hot day, allowing me to keep track of time without a watch.

Full moon on an August evening.

The little Adaline moored behind us.

Oh, and the marina owners keep peacocks.  Have you ever heard a peacock call?  It is the strangest sound!  It and the humidity would transport me right out of temperate North America for a moment.

If this huffy little peahen could've given me the finger, I'm sure she would have.

There is also an overgrown asian pear orchard.  I wish I had a picture. They must be getting ripe now, if we were still there I'd ask to pick a few.  And maybe learned how to brew asian pear wine.  :)

The view from the wheelhouse.

During this time, Ben spent a lot of time cleaning the bilge.  I wish I could say I was more help, but my back being in the shape it is, made it very difficult to work down there without risk of re-injury, and certainly without pain.  He has done an amazing job though, and he's been very patient with me while I do what I can.

My tasks are quite a bit lighter.  (I scrubbed the crap out of the diesel stove.)  And I tended to find time to sit and knit while listening to rustling grass, buzzing insects, and yes, peacocks.  I'm knitting a cowl with a zig-zag lace pattern.  I liked to imagine living aboard this coming winter and knitting or reading in front of the stove in the galley.

We aren't sure when we'll be able to move aboard.  We were originally hoping it would be by Halloween, but we both agree that at the very least, we will wake up Christmas morning on our boat.  We've been together seven years now and have never spent a Christmas morning just the two of us. 

On our last little spin around the slough.

We've now moved.  Next time I'll write about the haul out and journey up the Saratoga Passage.