Tuesday, June 25, 2024
What an incredible day!
Tuesday began with granola and a walk and ended with a sunset at one end of the boat and the most intense double rainbow we’d ever seen at the other!
After a bit of breakfast, I took my laptop and phone and walked the half-mile to the Zeballos post office, where there was free Wi-Fi, to download more email and try to send some, to do a little French practice, and to make two blog posts. The wonderful Yvonne was just opening the office, and I spent about an hour at one of the tables working on my phone and laptop. She called her friend Lorna, who cares for the little town museum as a volunteer, and arranged for a visit for Walt and me at 11 am.
Lorna is a retiree who has lived in Zeballos for some 30 years, produces beautiful paintings (some of which we saw on sale in the post office and some of which decorate note cards), and is a delightful museum docent. She gave Walt and me an entertaining and informative tour of the museum’s collections delineating the town’s history (as a gold- and iron-mining town that now derives its income from logging, fishing, and tourism) in pictures, documents, and a fascinating variety of artifacts.
After our tour, we returned to the post office to find Martin, his laundry (which Yvonne had so very kindly done for him—she was even a bit apologetic about not ironing his shirt!), Yvonne, her cream-colored cat Dennis, and some local folks enjoying the cozy community gathering space. Martin had visited the small but well-stocked library in the other part of the post office building, had filled our jerry can with gasoline for Coracle, and had a little more work to do on his laptop. We finished the computer tasks that required connectivity; signed the guest book; bought a set of two sturdy, oven-mitt-style pot-holders decorated with paintings of yellow-eye rock-fish and black bears (just like the ones we’d seen on our way up the inlet on Monday!); hugged Yvonne “THANK-YOU!!” and farewell and wished her the very best, and made our way back to Braesail, where Hans had spent a quiet morning reading, for a quick lunch.
We left the Zeballos dock at about 1:30 pm after Walt had filled the water tanks, and, with almost no wind at all, we motored under pewter skies down a series of tree-and-granite-lined inlets for about four hours. At times we enjoyed views of jagged mountain peaks sporting snow-patch caps; another time we encountered a trailing raft of sea otters, stretched across the mouth of an adjoining inlet; and at yet another point I spotted five elk grazing placidly on a grassy shore—I’d thought that they were brown bears, but a look through binoculars showed otherwise!
Braesail’s anchor hooked the muddy bottom of sheltered Santa Gertrudis Cove, which we shared with one other small boat, at about 6 pm, and we rested, read, and considered near-term destinations until it was time for a falafel dinner featuring Walt’s freshly-baked, hand-made pita. I spent my reading time in the now-sunny cockpit, and was startled by a squeaky whining sound, rather like that of a puppy. The source of the sound was a sea otter, perhaps the one that welcomed us to the cove as we were anchoring. It was too far away to photograph, but it was entertaining to watch as it swam on its back, flipped over, and dived.
Martin had been watching the evening light while working on his laptop in the cockpit, when, at about 9:15 pm, he suddenly exclaimed about what he was seeing, and we all jumped to windows to look out. At first, we noticed the amazing quality of the misty light sweeping the hills at quite a distance across the water, and then I saw that rainbow colors were beginning to rise from the tops of those hills and to arc above them across the water and into the tops of the trees above Braesail’s stern.
The rainbow became brighter and brighter and began to be reflected in the water in the cove, an upper bow began to form over it, and soon a gigantic glowing circle of colored light and its paler companion encompassed Braesail and her wide-eyed crew! Martin, Hans, and I took photos while Walt observed, and just as we saw the rainbow beginning to fade, the setting sun poured more light into the eastern sky and the rainbows intensified in color and clarity once again, encircling us and our boat.
Meanwhile, in the northwest, clouds rose above the trees and color flamed out over the cove as if a grand and glorious angel was spreading its wings and reaching toward the rainbow!
What a breathtaking gift!
Following such a spectacular show, I found it hard to try to write about a day filled with so many special blessings. I finished cleaning up the galley and finally settled down to describe something of the splendor with which God had blessed us—“Somewhere, over the rainbow”–was right here tonight!
Braesail - A grand yacht in the Salish Sea 