This weekend my dad and I went on journey on a boat. [Journey may be an overstatement, but I like it. It sounds epic.] And be forewarned: I’m utterly exhausted, so this post lacks continuity, and all of the jokes are bad. I do like you, probably very much, so let me assure you that this post is not intended as punishment.
The first few hours of our epic journey were spent slowly maneuvering through large waves and windy gusts in the Strait of Juan de Fuca, a channel that’s exposed to the Pacific Ocean and all its temperamental weather. My head found itself slung over the edge of the boat, my hand tightly gripping the side, sick for hours on end that were punctuated by huge waves and rain pelting my face. Living in a city, I rarely think about how powerful and scary nature can be. I was reminded, somewhat pretentiously, of how nature is portrayed in creation myths: unpredictable and frightening. [Tangents!] It was refreshing to smell the sea salt and feel the cold water and wind, however– two things I hadn’t encountered in far too long.
As this unfortunate little scene of sickness was taking place, I looked up and saw pod of whales, like a beautiful mirage in a sea of vomit and 7′ waves. I think it was the most awesome/ ridiculous way I could’ve seen a pod of whales.
I digress… Because of bad weather patterns, we decided to change course and ended up mooring at Friday Harbor, a quaint but fairly lifeless town, speckled with tourist traps and bars that have gone out of business because they’re only populated during the summers, rendering them practically profitless. You look inside the cobweb-ridden windows and see the dusty beer bottles; these bars are mini ghost towns.
We went to a whale museum (yep, you read that correctly) that was charming in spite (maybe because?) of its outdated scientific knowledge. I listened to different whales’ sounds and watched them catch salmon in videos from the ’80s narrated by people who, I imagine, had big hair held in place with Aquanet. And I took fake observations in a book that was intended to teach children how to observe patterns in the natural world.
Then my dad and I went bowling, where I scored a 40, and he only mocked me once. (That’s how good he is.) The woman rang us up as one junior (under 18) and one adult; I cannot remember the last time someone thought I was under 18, but apparently terrible bowling and Levi’s from the ’90s will do that to a 25-year-old. We laughed in our too-big bowling shoes.
What a nice thing it is to have quality time with your father when you’re not a kid anymore, and you’re both very busy. Despite the change of course and puking, the weekend was great– bizarre, unplanned, ridiculous at times, but completely wonderful. I’m glad I got to see whales, go to a weird museum, bowl, and hang out with my dad. I’m glad we got to read quietly and then have heated discussions about politics, literature, family and who’s better: Mic Jagger or Keith Richards. We heartily agreed on Keith.
How was your long weekend? If you got this far in the post, I applaud you. Brava! I hope you had the best weekend, whether it involved whales or not. lv, molly