The Greatest Surprise of the Seattle Boat Show Trip -- Monday, February 6, 2017

The aroma of freshly brewed Community Coffee floats into the master berth of Willie's Tug at 5:30 this morning, and I am tempted to crawl out of my warm bed and find my way to the galley, when I hear Herb come in from the cockpit.  His voice betrays the devious grin on his face as he says, "Willie, you will get a real surprise when you look outside this morning."

I don't know whether to be happy or fearful.  Did he finally get my birthday present delivered?

No, he says, you must come take a look.  So this is what I see out the starboard window -- snow!  But, wait!  It doesn't snow in Seattle!!  Well, yes, it does, and did.  There are about two inches of white stuff on the neighbor's dinghy.  

Seeing this, I am about to start feeling cold, but then I remember that we are toasty warm inside the boat.

I do get brave enough to step out the back door into the cockpit for a photo. It is quite chilly, so I won't be long.  There through the isinglass window is a good view of Jake's Ferry, otherwise known as our dinghy.  I wonder what 'The Doctor' would think about his ride if he were with us today.  

Over coffee and breakfast Herb and I watch some boats in the Selene yard move about.  I am amazed at a pilot driving topside WITHOUT A WARM CAP ON HIS HEAD.  And WHO would go out on a WX day like this!!!

Herb goes out on the dock to see that the boat goes down the fairway in front of us in order to turn around and go into her slip bow in.  They need to make room for boats that will be coming back from being on display at the Boats Afloat part of the Seattle Boat Show.  By the time the pilot turns around, he has realized that he needs his cap on.

I feel better now.

When we are all packed and ready to leave the boat buttoned up for a few months, I hesitantly prepare to step across from the swim platform onto the dock for the trek up the ramp.  Without a snow shovel, a smart move is to kick the icy snow off the place where I will put my foot for stepping out.  Then another kick gets me onto the main dock.  Once safely there I have plenty of footprints to walk in.  

Three steps later I discover a problem with rolling my luggage.  It has become a snowplow!  It is impossible for me to pull my bag perpendicular to the ramp, and it actually leans forward, dragging its load of slush and ice along until I can't budge it anymore.  So I stop and kick the ice to the side.  Three times.  When I am at the steeper incline, I stop to wonder how in the world I will go any farther.  I am quite tired and cold.

A good samaritan sitting in his cockpit calls out, "Ma'am, would you like some help?"  

"Oh, yes please!"

He not only takes my luggage, but assists me along the snowy boards to the top of the ramp. 

Looking back behind me, I see the very smoothly plowed path I have made that Herb will appreciate when he comes along a few minutes later.  He has no idea what has been going on.

We have one last chance to say "So Long" to our friends, Vicki and Bruce, before returning to Texas and await Springtime when we will once again return to Willie's Tug and the Pacific Northwest for the boating season.

Conversation is lively -- as always -- and I very much enjoy also watching Bruce talk.  Here he explains his story and I ask to photograph the gestures.

Now, as I write this six weeks later, I find myself making similar, if not the same motions.  Some things just have to be demonstrated to be properly understood.

Willie of Willie's Tug,
   and of Walldog, Willie and Jake
   Monday, February 6, 2017