It aint over till its over!

The blog. I almost though I would leave it. All that was left was Marina Del Rey, Newport, Oceanside, San Diego and we were done. That was that. The Twister Adventures were no more. But the passage of time makes so many things happens, it seems history always aiming different events at us. So, instead i find myself oblige, if not propelled to now indulged, if i may say some “twisted adventures”!

I left you in Marina Del Rey were big names like Santa Monica Pier, Malibu, Hollywood and Mulholland Drive were part of the ride. Scott´s sister,Hannah, double the fun. For once, I had some female compagny, someone to chit chat to while Scott´s tackeling the crowd at Malibu surf spot. Dont get me wrong,travelling with your boyfriend is awesome, but dare I say girlfriends are mandatory for what I like to call the 3 ¨S¨ : Shopping, Sanity and most importantly Survival. We sat there, discussing and babbling away while looking at the crowded mess of surfers. Who knew? Maybe Matthew McConaughey could jump out at any second! But no, instead Laird Hamilton seemed to be enjoying some little sunshine himself. Now that´s even better!

On the boat, there was only going to be little ¨hops¨ from now on. Marina Del Rey to Newport Beach, then to Oceanside. Once there, you can smell, see almost touch San Diego you are so near. Oceaside side was great for its surf ( we could paddle over), for its movie (free popcorn on tuesday!!) and yoga (I had to chuckle when they OFFERED me a bottle of water on top of some electrolyte to add in it). And then, we finally arrived in San Diego, our final destination.

Fresh wind on my face and hair reside as we enter the San Diego Marina. I am waiting and expectating exhilaration, some thrill or butterflies about arriving to out last destination. To my surprise, there are no tremors of agitation, no giddiness in my voice, only... a sigh of relief. We are use to thinking that once we´ve reach our goals will be somewhat fulfilled, complete, whole but this could be farther form the truth. At our ages anyways, there is always a mystical thirst for something more.

The Marina in San Diego is at the HYATT Hotel in Mission Bay, and you can bet we take advantage of the gym, pool and hot tub they offer here. We are meeting Scott´s friend Chris tonight and as were are both heading for the showers as i am thinking that a night out-of-town is what we both desperatly need.

Its around 7 pm, I am freshly showered. My hair is done up and make up is to perfection. As I put my marvellous blue scarf (boat version of trying to be fancy), my boyfriend tells me i look very nice tonight, on that thought of his, i consider myself fully ready. I step out first onto the dock ( a tiny victory to be the first one ready). Scott finally gets out and his weight make the puny dock shift. ¨HA!¨. SPLOUCH. Folks- i have fallen off the dock! The next second are blurry as i am push myself up, gasping for air. Now, its one thing to have a nice swim with proper bathing equipement in aqua blue water. It´s another to have fallen into gasoline filth cold water with jeans, scarf, purse, earrings- i mean the whole shabang! Scott quickly pulled me out. I am sitting on the dock now, and I am crying (bawling really). I am not hurt, just terribly embarrased, wet and stupidely mad that I will have to apply make up again. Scott barely had time to catch my drifting flip flops that he is now running to find me a towel (of course all of our towels on the boat are wet or dirty). I am left standing alone, drenched with my pride, swallowing my dignity, gulping my crying hick hops, thinking: ¨it ain´t over till its over young lady!¨. So now, you can comprehend my delighted aprehension on going to Mexico- by plane. This would surely be, as they say, a vacation from our vacation.

Upon our arrival to Mexico, its fuming hot and I find myself fully exposed to a more primitive scenery, one more beautiful and montanous than i ever imagine. After too many Mexican tried to scam us, after getting lost in a disordly city and fearing the policia for getting on our case for misleading some road directions, we are at long last on our way to Todos Santos. Upon arrival, no room is avaible at this surf hotel Scott wants to go (what? we are being spontaneous lately remember!), ¨but my friend has a trailer that can be rented for the night¨ the owner blurts. Scott and I, both look at each other... why not!? Going from a boat to a trailer, now that is one twisted joke if you ask me. After making friends with more than 7 errand dogs, lil annoying flies and one lonely cockroach we just kinda laugh. Apparently, we´re not ready for the real world just yet!

And it ain´t over yet! As I am writing this, my right leg is up on cushion hidden by a huge ski boot (commonly refered to as a air cast) and my crunches are waiting diligently for me on the wall. On our third day here (we have switch to an hotel by now), I got drilled by a wave, something that happened MANY times before, only this time my board frerakishly hit fast and hard my leg. When the Mexicain doctor came back with the x-rays, the visuals was almost too much for my brain to process, my mouth agape in stupefied wonder- how the hell did i manage to do this to myself? Folks, i have fracture my fibula and this will take 6 weeks to heal. At this point I could hit rock bottom, but call me a ´glass half-full´ type of gal, but when things look there absolute worse i still believe that you have a choice.

We´re use to thinking of traveling as good and perfect only when there is no clouds in the skies, no cockroach in our soups or no wind ruining waves. Deep down inside, i know that time transfer awful moments into good memories. Real experience is raw, uncensored and unperfect but aren´t those the ones that stick with you and mold you? And anyways, life ain´t over till it´s over... right?!

p.s: after 2 weeks of not having move my ´derriere´ will somebody remind me to read my own blog. Thanks !!!

TITANIC (minus the iceberg and the whole wreck… of course!)

This blog is dedicated to both: mon père et mon frère

SO, for those who haven’t heard the rumors, yes indeed, it’s true. Scott and I decided to end the trip in San Diego. We are content with our decision. After much assessments and consideration, we are ready to further our adventures on more solid ground, some place where there is no ice in the fridge, no anchor in the bed, and no 3 mile walk to ANYWHERE (even if its just , oh-you know… going to the washroom). Hum, let see, where did I leave you last…

From San Luis Obispo, our aim was to set out to the Cojo Anchorage. It happens that Point Conception is in the center of those two destinations. This point has been known to be quite gnarly if not pass at a convenient window of appropriate weather condition. It is our last overnight trip. By now, Scott as acquired a kind of aversion for traveling at night. You would too if you would have seen the bottom of a cooler one too many times! Luckily for us, Mother Ocean decided to be flat as a pond. Although, it seems we were too distracted the notice the sea’s charity. We are intensely looking at giant oil contraption that are laid out in a line up, each a couple miles from each other, every single one coming right out of Star Wars. A kind of irony set in; how such colossal man-made rigs could be implemented in the great ocean life seem so wrong in almost a troublesome way.

In the morning, we discover the Cojo Anchorage is right in front of a surf spot. Imagine a version of every surfer’s dream. Scott is jubilant, he’s at the “ranch” (I didn’t know either but it’s a famous surf spot).As we paddle over and back, I stop to let a dolphin or two pass. I try not to paranoid; wild dolphin (3 times my size) would never be unfriendly or unexpectedly transform into ferocious white shark… right?! After surf and breakfast we realize the boredom of being confine to a (very small) boat. I mean, there is so much napping, snaking and reading one can do. The next morning, the waves decide to leave, as do we. Santa Barbara awaits us.

Santa Barbara Harbor is busier than expected; sailboats, motor boats, fishing boats, not to forget wind and kite surfers that pass so close, we can almost smell there cologne. After being anchored for too many days, being tied to a dock feels more like a Ritz Carleton than a Marina. There, we took in the striking away of mountain tops in a city were people’s cheek don’t move (botox?) and were every second car is a Range Rover. After 2 days in prosperous land, off we go again. Destination-Oxnard.

Now this trip is exciting as it is celebrated by not having to wear our foul weather gear, a sort of baptism to Southern California. Upon arrival, we go surfing. FINALLY, Oxnard has waves for me (a version of every beginner’s dream). I can surf for real (minus a couple of wipe-outs but who’s counting!). My dad was in a neighborhood and came for a visit. How nice it was to talk to a familiar face, to have good conversation and fine food!

The next day, we are ready to leave Oxnard for Marina Del Rey. A less than 10 knots wind turns into 35 knot full force one, right in front of us. Buckets of water are getting into the boat as we’re both drench, covered with salt stains. We’ve given up on the weather a long time ago, so we let it go and turn around. Our second attempt is better. The sunset is upon us. Dolphins are everywhere, jumping in herds from all places. But unlike last time, the water is clear, clean with no wake. Night is upon us. Scott goes to the bow and hurries for me to come. For balance, I hold on to the front of the boat and in turn Scott holds me. There they are- dolphins. Dolphins of every size, jumping and going along with the boat. We can almost touch them as they splash on our faces. They propel and catapult there body in the air sometime showing there fins, other times their belly. But even more miraculous is the fluorescent lights they create. No worries, no burden could gravitate around this Titanic moment. Rose and Jack would have killed for this! In this instant, we might just have been the Kings ( and Queens) of the world. As I recall, it was pure, joyous and simple. This was undoubtedly, one of the many experiences that make this trip unforgettable.

In some ways, it is hard to end this sailing trip. Let’s face it, moments like these don’t happen at home while watching Flipper (or Titanic for that matter) on your sofa. But ending is not so hard because here is to being real, true and unashamed. Life is filled with endless, countless, INFINITE possibilities of creating the unthinkable…. and THAT’S the real freedom of it all.

p.s: P’a et Alexi: I don’t need a blog to embrace you in my adventures. In case you already didn’t know, you are ALWAYS part of my most profound and everyday inspirations.

Till next time… xoxo

A Cooler? Or a Bucket?

Most of us have things. Things lying in our house, things cram in the closets or even things crowded in our cars. Well, in a boat, there is none of that. It’s either you need it and or you don’t. Space is precious here, and after a month you realize what you REALLY need. By “really” I mean utterly, absolutely, entirely, for-sure, COMPLETELY need. So, we figure out that there were only about 3 things not needed on this boat; Scott’s drill (dunno a nail from a screw so that’s obviously not my fault!), a cooler (is empty and apparently ALWAYS in our way) and that black cute fancy black dress hanging at the dead end of the tiny weenie closet of ours (what was a thinking? Twister is obviously NOT a cruise ship!). Regardless of our little, but surprisingly cozy living arrangement, we have now drifted across many gorgeous Californians beach towns….

Starting from San Francisco to Half Moon Bay; at only 20 nautical miles away, it was an “easy, breezy” ride. Half Moon Bay is a typical touristy town, with friendly bus driver (he stopped for us in the middle of the highway!) and good surf (judge by you know who). The next day is off to the known to be “cool” Santa Cruz. Despite doing a great deal of long distance marathon walking (please understand that the boat is not towing a car), we had time to thoroughly visit the surrounding. We stayed longer than expected due to gale winds raging in the nearby water, but it didn’t matter. The marina was really clean, quiet and quaint. While Scott went to surf (even spotted some professional surfer) I went to do yoga (they have the funkiest and nicest studio here). By Saturday, it was just a little hop-over (20 miles) to Monterey, where we had awesome sail with gigantic swell. There, we met 3 fellow Canadian boats, all going South. As of yet, we are still the youngest and smallest boat doing this, but at least we are not alone. By the next day, we were once again ready to leave, for a longer, overnight trip, this time destination- Morro Bay.

The seas where supposed to be quite calm and steady but instead it is the rockiest it has been. The winds are pulling 25 knots at their peak. By now, we are used to sailing in strong wind but the shakiness makes everything awkward. It’s terrible; Scott is the most sea sick I have yet seen him. The sea can be traitorous like that sometime. As we are complaining about the bumpy and uncomfortable ride, a dolphin jumps out of the water. WoW! Then another and one more… There are 2 and sometime 3 jumping rhythmically with the boat; near the bow then near the berth. And suddenly, you realize there are at least 50 all around you! There are just like rockets, like a flash. Are we daydreaming? But no, it’s really happening, and happening so fast! And surely, as fast as they came, as promptly they are gone. Yeah- the sea can be quite glorious like that sometime.

It’s well past nine pm now. I am extending my shift for Scott to rest a tad more. There is nothing left in him. At midnight, we finally decide not to make the overnight and to anchor in San Simeon. It is a bright, almost full moon, and its brilliance is quite appreciated as we make our entrance into the Cove. The next morning, I inquire to my patient, will he survive? I sure think he manages to see the good side of things, when is answer: “Well, at least now that cooler finally served a purpose!”. (Hint: guess where is dinner went?) : ) hee!hee!

The sail from San Simeon to Morro Bay was calm and gorgeous. The Coast is obviously more desert-like now. The humongous Morro Rock on the entrance to the jetty is impressive (as well as the amount of bird pooh that rest on it). After some good taco’s Scott is right back to normal and even decides to go have a run ( that’s 100% recovery for you), while I tell him to just do that while I go have a nap!

As I write this we are in Port St. Luis Obispo. We’ve just arrived from a fine long hike to Sycamore Mineral Springs Resort where we indulged in some a Hot Springs baths that are situated outdoor on the edge of mountain nearby….Paradise! As I lay there, in sizzling, hot bath am thinking who knew a cooler would ever be THAT useful?!? Dang!

So long San Fransisco!

“Your smile is practically irrepressible today” said my horoscope. That’s right, I have had a bad hair day for approximately a month (not bringing a blow dryer on this trip was the biggest mistake of my life). But hey! It’s true, my smile as been pretty consistent since we cruised under the Golden Gate bridge. Oui, oui, you heard me well. We left Fort Bragg, did an overnighter, and when I woke up, you could barely see IT. The “it” being referred to as the all-time landmark of San Francisco and California itself: the magnificent Golden Gate Bridge. It was a little victory for Scott and I, as San Francisco is a giant marker in our trip. If anything, we knew that, from then on, thing would and will get … warmer.

We spent the whole week in San Francisco. Who wouldn’t? The place is full of tourist (90% German’s I swear!!), full of hills, full of venue’s to attend- just full, full, full! The vicinity is booming, young, rich and fun. Its hills, cable cars, Fisherman’s Wharf and China Town are just a few bits and pieces of what makes San Francisco awesome. Scott went to surf with the big boys in Ocean Beach. I told myself I could have been more gutsy but I swallowed back my words when a saw a few grown up man twice my size not making it through the whitewash (at this point ,a newspaper and coffee was much more inviting). Later it was my turn to battle the unruly waves of Rockaway Beach in Pacifica. It’s a bit dispiriting; even after a year, I am still learning the thrill of surfing- paddling, not falling… you know, all that jazz ( oh man… at least I try!). Luckily my dignity was revived at yoga (where I know a bit more of what am doing!). I got taught by Mary Jarvis, one of the first Bikram followers, she utterly forbids water in the class- that might sound like nothing but when you’re sweating buckets you might just think she’s the devil!

On the week-end we had the pleasure to experience San Francisco’s never seen “LOVE FEST” ( du jamais-vu!). At noon on a Saturday, San Franciscan’s seemed under a fake drunken spell of eccentric costume, lingerie ‘a la Moulin Rouge’ and pre-Halloweenesque glory- all of this in the name of love (WOW!). Scott and I, perched on the top of a newspaper stand had prime seat as we were taking it all in; the silliness of this wild parade of sounds which featured the town’s best DJ’s. To top it all off, we attended a 49ers game. They lost, but who cares really when Scott was content enough eating a gigantic Bratwurst and I could almost see the delicious Tom Brady (will never beat Matt Damon - but at least this time it was the real thing and not a Coast Guard replica of it!).

On our departure, it was interesting to note that our previous excitement was nearly inexistent as we went under the Golden Gate Bridge again. We understood that it would be impossible to recreate the first feeling of triumph, the initial anticipation of conquest.

So long San Francisco! You were, if I say the least, utterly FANTASTIC.

p.s : Pictures are now posted on FACEBOOK!!!

p.p.s : I want to thanks all of you guys again for the lovely comments!!

The Best Birthday Present Ever

Did you know that seal’s can dance? Am not kidding, they team up, jump on one another and offer you an amusing show for you to enjoy (talk about the cheapest sea world show ever attended!). They’re backdrop? The rays of sunset and remarkably clear, glassy waters tonight brings. Occasionally, a whale or two will poke up (this time-from a distance!). I mused, am still not familiar with this scene of holistic immersion, being that intimate with the ocean is still to my eyes, intimidating.

It’s September 29^th, we’ve just passed Point Arena, CA. We we’re in Fort Bragg, yesterday and the day before we we’re stationed in Eureka AND the day before THAT day before, it was, if you didn’t know (shame on you!) or care to know, the most important day of the year: MY BIRTHDAY. Yes siree, on September 26^th I turned 27 year’s old to be exact. Needless to say, I was happily and gratefully spoiled rotten. I am so lucky. But back to the twister’s adventure’s if I must…

Well, dear comrades, the Twister’s arrived in Eureka the Tuesday prior and didn’t leave until the Saturday after, as a result, these tales will be firmly stranded on shore. As of now, we’ve met many sailboats heading south. I won’t lie, they’re mean age is 60 and mean boat size is 45 ft. Hum, let’s see, we’ve got a mean age of 30 and a 28 footer, (or overhearing the exact words of a 4 years old: “look! A baby sailboat!”). Dare I say, we are therefore set apart from our neighbor’s cigars, precious yacht and luxurious amenities. Bah! We’re young, active, knowledgeable (that would be Scott) and ignorant (that would be me). But in any case we’re quite likable and un-intimidating to other cruisers. Then it’s without surprise that we ended up in Max and Sandy’s modest VOLO’s. Both two endearing Australian who had not only good humor, good wine but also numerous tips and advise about boating. Having done a trip of 5 years around the world, and still boating around continents to this day, there is nothing they haven’t seen, no mistakes they haven’t done. It’s good to hear. We get caught up in that lil’ sausage of a boat and it shouldn’t be this hard, or is it? The best was when Sandy told me that on her first ever shift at sea she thought a submarine was ferociously coming out of the water straight at her, to find that, in the end, it was only the moon rising. At that moment, boy-oh-boy was a glad that my first night shift was moonless! : )

Other than our little get together, our week went by really fast. Eureka is known for its heritage house and design, some yoga (they have Bikram’s there!) and you can bet that surfing in Northern Californian rustic scenery was also in our agenda. But best of all, was just being in a real cities with “normal” people and not just fisherman’s (no offense!). What a delight to have nice, clean, no-nonsense shower/washrooms for a change. I was so relieved when I saw the Health Food Coop as big as Wal-Mart! I mean, there is so much cheese and cracker one can munch on, and shopping in overprized and undersized grubby convenient store as never been a hobby of mind. So Hallelujah! for large produce section and healthy deli counters. We did ended up staying in Eureka longer than we thought due to weather complications but we liked it there.

As we finally leave for San Francisco that Saturday, we are unaware that Scott will decide to turn the boat around at 7 am on Sunday morning because the wind are 20 knot, but South- hence right in front of us. We are bummed because we need to backtrack 20 miles to Fort Bragg, but at least we will get some rest. That morning, we can smell San Francisco at our doorstep. We decided to go for a quick walk and breaky It’s a 15 minute walk from the marina. Abruptly, some kind of mutt of a dog jumps onto the street. I just keep walking ignoring him, but Scott says: “Hi Doggy!”. The dog walks over tale in the air, with a fierce and vicious look in his eye. All of sudden Scott screams at the dog : NO! go back NOW! NO! GO AWAY! Oh man- now the dog is showing is teeth and while am ready to go run in the woods (I am such a girl!), I am certain this dog will bite Scott in the calves. But he didn’t… why, after NOT being eaten by a whale 30 (or more!) times this dogs size I should have known better. Phewf!

So you see, Scott and I don’t even need the high seas for it to be an adventure. Apparently, we are able to initiate our (and our family’s) fight or flight response even while having a lovely morning stroll- go figure. From here on out, I realize that there is nothing remotely material that could replace all the unique tale’s (good or bad), the interesting people we meet and the experience we are undergoing during this beautiful voyage. Not only that, but that I get to live all of them, everyday, with my most favorite person in the whole world- this is priceless and surely the best birthday present EVER.

p.s: PATIENCE… picture will come, promess! I might post some on facebook pretty soon to!! Til next time xoxo

Life is But a Dream

The skies were clear when we left Coos Bay, destination:Port Orford. You see, I am NOT a fan of fog, am more of the type who like’s to know where am going (like most human beings). In any case, clear days make me happy. It’s on these days that I get to discuss with Scott if I like the sunrise or sunset better. It’s on these days that we close off the radar and relax as miles and miles of water are laid out before us. As we arrive in Port Orford, you can bet I don’t have to squint my eyes to see the uncanny rocks shaped like shark teeth’s from a distance. Yes, now you can understand more my fondness for clear, bright days.

I am, however, a fan of wind. We both are (duh-it’s the purpose of our trip!). We’re joking about how our expedition as been “all or nothing”. It seems that since the last stormy night, it’s been: NOTHING. Therefore, on what appears to be this almost-dazzling and almost-perfect clear day I permitted myself to sing my lil’ heart out (anything to bring some wind):“Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream, merrily, merrily…”. Well, in our case it would sound more like: ” Sail, sail, sail your boat gently down the Pacific Ocean merrily, merrily…”. But how can you sail when there’s NO wind!? Where is the wind? Of course, Scott stubbornly tried to put up the sails (the spinnaker- for lighter winds), but without progress. Don’t get me wrong, the trip of 45 miles motoring was still enjoyable. Who could complain about breathtaking scenery that offers the strip of Oregon cliffs and all these rocks that present a stunning spectacle, not me! We anchored in Port Orford for the night.

At 7 am, Saturday morning we depart again, destination: Crescent City. We motor again, but it’s o.k. The weather is obviously something you have no control over so why fight it? By sunset, the ocean is glassy with some orange-like reflection. Scott sees a whale from a distance… yeah! We’ve seen seals, birds, and even 2 dolphins but this is our first whale. Quick! Give me the binocular, the camera, anything! Ah, another one there and look, another one! Whales are everywhere! Then, one is really close… cool! Wait a minute, like, how close is too close here!?! Before I have time to ask anything else, unexpectedly, a whale is in front of the boat, at approximately 15 meters and jumps out of the water and opens its jaw’s!!! At this moment, not only I am thinking that this massive mammal could fit my brother’s Prius in its oral cavity, its rib cage is at least the same size of the Twister. Oh-My-God! The whale is right there and we’re motoring right in front of it. We both fall silent. I don’t know why, but in almost a whisper, I tell Scott. STOP. THE. BOAT. Gently and quietly he does. The next 5 seconds, were the longest of my life. We did not breathe, we did not move, we did not flinch. Suddenly, there she was, at our left, its giant tale flopping out of the water. If we hadn’t stop we would have hit her! (MOTHER’S its ok, WE ARE OK!!!) Needless to say, we didn’t feel big in our pants. After that, others whales kept on popping out, but at this point, you can imagine that I was kind of over whales. Phewf! Anyhow, arriving in Crescent City was confusing (due to darkness), but since it didn’t involve a head-on collision with a monster whale, we know we would most likely survive. We are officially in Californian waters now. This is exciting. Sunday was spent like a blink of an eye- hiking through the gigantic Redwood forest, admiring coastal waters and walking everywhere to get things done before our next lil’ trip.

Next destination: Eureka ,CA. Scott is getting aggravated of the no-wind situation. But then, with a hint of abracadabra, there it was. At around 1 pm, a full 20 knots push steady for almost the entire afternoon. See, now that was the “ALL” in the “all or nothing” theory. Or more so, I’d like to blame it on my song working wonders…where was I again? Oh yeah ….

Merrily, merrily, merrily…..Life is but a dream ; )

M*A*G*I*C*A*L

Our week-end in Garibaldi (OR) was filled with well-deserved rest, hiking and sightseeing’s. Given I have felt like a shoe stuck in dryer for the past couple days, it’s nice to be walking on solid ground, to have space to move your arms around, to turn, twist, and stretch just like you want to, when you want to.

It’s only the U.S, I know, but the culture is truly different here. Garibaldi is a little fisherman’s town (920 habitants), which consist of mostly middle age man with there wife’s, both of whom significantly look older than there actual age. I wonder if it’s because every second person here smoke’s, or because there life compromise of hard labor/poor diet. In the end, it’s probably a mixture of both. Nonetheless, we’ve met interesting people here, Norma the librarian (who offered me to join the Oprah book Club…aww!), Daisy the baker (who made dirt cheap americano’s) and Vic (who had one hand on the wheel and the other one fixing is oxygen mask). I was excited; we took a real old locomotive train ride to Rockaway Beach. The scene of it was windy, sandy and picturesque. At night, we went to experience the ‘real’ American Bar. As we entered, I felt we were Martians coming back from the future; all eyes were on us the out-of-towner’s. There I am walking in and thinking “my-OH-my who ever though jeans and a hoody would ever feel overdress”?! Clouds of smoke were upon us, pool was free, drinks were strong, but best of all, it was good ol’ KARAOKE night! I was threatening Scott to go up and sing, but he thought they would think I was unintentionally mocking them, and causing a riot this early in our trip was out of questions! : ) On the Sunday, we’ve hitchhiked (yes, you’ve read correctly, your dentist can and will do it) to Brimson Fall (one of the highest falls they say along the Coast), with my thumb of fire and Scott’s irresistible smirk people took us in jiffy! We’ve finished our day at the Tillamook Cheese Factory, with a delicious and oversized ice cream, that was bigger than shall I say, both of our brain’s.

On Monday, we departed once again. It’s 3 am; this will be an overnight trip of over 151 Nautical Mile. It’s a South wind, not in our favor, so we motor the whole time. Overall, (and secretly glad to report) it was an uneventful trip, with no sea sickness, no rockiness. At approximately 7 am that morning I have the sun rising on my left and the moon setting on my right- beyond doubt à m*a*g*i*c*a*l.

As we get out of the boat in Coos Bay, at around 10ish, Tuesday morning, our heads are ringing and we’re both dizzy from 30 hours of hearing a motor blazing though our ears. The dock is filled with filth from algae, moss, and pieces of bait. The smell of all this, is… shall I say, fishy. The “no crabbing” signs doesn’t stop locals from doing just that: crabbin’. It’s quite a violation of privacy if you ask me. Mostly retired people will plant there own chair right to the boat, and be there for hours on end, just chatting with other of there kind. As a result, it feels as though a stranger is eating toast on your lawn. In the end, apart from treating ourselves to the gym, some surfing and seeing a movie, we don’t like it much here. I mean, part of it is beautiful, but too put it way too nicely, most of it is extremely “blah”. : (

On top of it, as I am typing this on a cloudy day, we are kind of stuck here. The winds are still South (and said to be so until Sunday). But yeah, we’re just too antsy and we just can’t stomach another gloomy day. We’re leaving at the crack of dawn tomorrow, motor to our next destination, hoping the marina there doesn’t come with the group of smocks stretching there legs on my lawn!