I always manage to find something I love in every town I visit, which is why my friends have often told me before, “You should write travel brochures, because you always make me want to go there.”    But in all the places I have visited, I can’t recall ever being in a town where I have found so many of my passions all in one place as Port Townsend.  I am falling for this little town, and falling fast…

Mural named “Tree of Heaven.” On the commemorative plaque, someone crossed out “of” and wrote “Tree in Heaven.”

An entire store dedicated to wooden boats.

I love my charts like I love my maps!

First thing I notice while parked in the little Point Harbor Marina is these aren’t just your basic fiberglass sailboats around me.  The majority of them are finely crafted wooden boats.  And in fact, the Wooden Boat Foundation is in the building right behind me, with boat building, restoration, and repair taking place all around me. 

Wooden ship masts are hollowed wood.

A gray-ponytailed, weathered man works meticulously on a hand carved wooden mast.   Prep is taking place in the Northwest Maritime Center for upcoming classes on wooden boat building.   I learn that Port Townsend is the location for many wooden boat builders, from the sleekest of kayaks, to large, seaworthy ships.   They even host a Wooden Boat Festival every September, which is billed as “most educational and inspiring wooden boat event in the world!”.

The graceful lines, the skill and patience required to replicate the symmetry, and the layer upon flawless layer of varnish to leave the wood impenetrable to the elements are just a few things to appreciate about the wooden boat.  There is romance in the life story of any boat, but a sailing vessel made of wood, painstakingly crafted from natural resources of the earth, used to harness the power of the wind to see faraway lands?  Well, I am hopelessly in love…

A kayak in the process of being constructed.

So do I love to sail because I am drawn to boats?   Or does my love of boats make me long to be a skillful sailor?   I could ask the same question about books.  Am I so drawn to bookstores because I love to write?  Or do I love to write because I have always enjoyed perusing the aisles of bookstores?   Am I attracted to skinny men because I want to be…..well….you get the idea…

Such is a rare find today as a local bookstore…and Port Townsend has not one, but three of them…four if you count the Metaphysical shop.    I always stop to pause outside a bookstore to do some prep work…sharpen my senses…cleanse my olfactory palate, if you will, before I walk in.  I want to be fully focused and completely cognizant of that first whiff of the musty smell of a room full of well seasoned books.   I love touching them, smelling them, running my hands across the linen covers and embossed gold titles.

But one Port Townsend bookstore took me to a whole new level.  It wasn’t only a bookstore with over 5,000 books in stock.  It was also headquarters for the Writers’ Workshoppe.    Everyone who knows me knows I have been a frustrated writer for at least the past twenty years.   I have an entire “Totes” box full of hand-written journals with fancy covers.   If the storage shed was on fire, that is the box I would grab first.  So imagine the stone cold paralysis that hit me when I read the mission for the little Imprint Books and Writers’ Workshoppes:

“This shop is for anyone who wants to write, has to write, aches to write, can’t write, wishes they could write, is scared to write. It’s for those who don’t know where to start. Or where to end. It’s for anyone interested in developing the craft of writing.”

I would grow roots in this town for that statement alone.

In the back of Imprint Books is a wall of motivation, so to speak.  A cork board full of “Writing Tips,” handwritten notes of encouragement to frustrated writers just like me.   So there I stood, looking like a tourist, Nikon around my neck, welling up with emotion, wondering how I can ever leave such a place…

Who can’t be happy writing with a crayon? Problem solved.

And then there were the Brews, Baby!  My first introduction to the Port Townsend Brewery came to sound of bagpipes across the boatyard.   I was out for a sunset stroll, cruising the wooden boats when I hear Celtic music, so I follow the sound of the bagpipes like the Pied Piper until I come upon the lovely outdoor beer garden full of Blarney Tales and Pale Ales.

My second brew stop, The Pourhouse, came on recommendation from the waitress at Sea J’s Café, the seafood shack voted “Port Townsend’s Best Fish & Chips 10 years in a row.”  She must have seen the look of disappointment on my face when she broke the news that they had no liquor license, and therefore I would not be chasing down my fried Cod with a cold one.   “Why don’t I just pack it up for you to go, and you can take it two doors down to the PourHouse, and enjoy it with your beverage of choice on the picnic tables out back.”    Now that’s service!

But I think of all the unique “brews,” the one I enjoyed the most was of the bean variety.  The Point Harbor Marina was just a half a block from the Velocity Coffee Shop, located inside the Northwest Maritime Center.   I don’t typically venture too far from the rig on a work day.  Perceptual narrowing.  But something about the lure of those boats had me packing up the Thinkpad every morning, and taking the short walk over to work in the vibrant energy and aromas of the roasting beans while looking out over Puget Sound.

My usual for the week was an “Arancia,” a smooth mocha with a twist of fresh orange peel.  It was the perfect accompaniment to the Morning Glory muffin, filled with enough fruits, nuts and seeds to fool me into thinking it was a healthy choice.

So there’s something evocative here.  I am not sure I can explain it, unless you have felt that same sort of brooding, moody feeling in your gut that makes you want to get to the nearest coffee house and crank out the next Great American Novel.  Or the next chart topper.  Between the wooden boats, the artist vibe, the coffee houses, the Victorian architecture, live music and the aging hippies, it suits my fairytale…  A place deserving of a “Part Three.”  To be continued…