I am excited to arrive at Anacortes for many reasons, none the least of which is its proximity to the San Juan Islands.   I have budgeted two weeks here, so I can spend the weekend island hopping.  As an avid sailor, I have heard many tails of sailing the San Juans;  short-distance cruising between forested islands, lots of marine life, and idyllic emerald green coves with mooring balls so you don’t have to anchor.   I would give anything to be on a sailboat charter!  But if I can’t get to these islands on a sailboat, at least I can get there by ferry!

As usual, I have gotten some great advice from Nina, which helps me see that my original idea of visiting a couple of islands in one day is not realistic.   If one is bringing a car, it just takes too much time, as ferries require an hour advance, take time to load and unload, are often delayed, and in addition, I am trying to do this on what might be one of the busiest weekends of the year!    Summer is short in the islands…

I want to visit both San Juan Island (not one but TWO lighthouses!  Surprise, surprise!) and I also want to stop by Orcas and see Nina and Paul, who are hosting at the top of Mount Constitution.   There is no way possible to hit both of these islands in a day.  I could do two separate day trips, but the lovely little Lime Kiln lighthouse offers tours only at sunset, starting at 7:00pm.  A sunset tour of a lighthouse?   Are you kidding me??   I would sleep in the Tracker to see that!

Well, after I start phoning around to different hotels, Inns, and campgrounds on the island, I start to see that sleeping in the Tracker may be more of a reality than a joke.  There is nothing, and I mean NOTHING available!   One woman even laughs at me, saying, “weekends sell out here months in advance!”

There are some online reservation websites, but all are coming up sold out.   There is one very fancy “resort” on the island that shows space, so I am trying to figure out “How high will I go?”  After all, I am already paying $20 for leaving the Winnie dry camped at the Anacortes marina.  The ferry is going to cost me another $48.   At what point does this lighthouse stalking become a cost-prohibitive obsession?  😉

I call the Lakedale Resort, which also has a campground.  He tells me they are completely full, but after about 10 minutes of my sob story, he confesses, “Well, I do have one spot, but it is closed because it needs work.  It’s not very level, and only big enough for one person.”  “I AM ONE PERSON!”   Looks like I am in!   I load up the poor Tracker until the doors are about to pop open with tent, sleeping bag, and all the accoutrements required for whatever island activity might present itself over my three day weekend.

The ferry wait is long, just as Nina has warned, but I take my laptop and do some photo edits while waiting with my Penguin Coffee Latte and Marionberry scone. 😉

Time passes quickly on the dock, and soon we are underway, passing shadows of dark green islands, their gentle shapes rising up above the soft layer of low lying fog.

 

The little town of Friday Harbor is bursting with energy as cars, pedestrians, and bicyclists spill out from the packed ferry, dispersing in all directions, some in search of teeshirts and trinkets, while others make a B-line out of town as quickly as possible.   I decide to head straight to the campsite, and return later to explore the town without a thousand people in egress.

Lakedale Resort is to campgrounds what a “planned community” is to track homes, but I just keep telling myself “I am here for the lighthouses.”     The reservationist was right, it is not exactly a level spot, and I get inside the tent and try laying in all positions until I find one that feels comfortable enough to sleep.   Anybody can l sleep on a 20 degree incline, right?

I make the loop around San Juan Island.   Once I get a mile from Friday Harbor, it is the complete antithesis of the touristy chaos.  The island itself is quite rural, with a winery, several flower gardens, and even an oyster farm!   I make several stops along the way to take in the local flavor.  The oyster farmer offers to show me how to shuck oysters, but I decide I need all 10 fingers for working.  😉

My first stop is the tiny little Cattle Point Lighthouse.   I think it must be named “cattle point,” because you have to wander through waist-high thistle bushes like cattle to get to it!  But the sight of the small silhouette standing bravely out there all alone in the grassy field is very picturesque.   Given the calmness of the seas around her and the beautiful blue sky overhead, she looks more like a “lighthouse in training,” rather than one who has stood guard since 1935.

As I am leaving, I stop along the trail to photograph some gulls overhead.   There are people nearby, when I catch a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my photo frame.   There in the “bowl” along the bluff is a brilliant red fox, lying in wait.    I stand on the trail for a long while, watching the people below completely oblivious to what is looking over their shoulder…

I spend the rest of the afternoon exploring Friday Harbor, and enjoy some Fish Tacos from the local food truck by the ferry, anxiously watching the clock and the clouds as we approach the sunset hour.   After all, my tenacious efforts toward finding a place to overnight are all centered around this sunset tour at the lighthouse.   The cloud formations look promising.

I arrive at the little Lime Kiln lighthouse early, but this gives me some time to explore the area.  I meet the lighthouse host, Pat, a fellow “lighthouse nut” who loves it so much here, she actually moved from Minneapolis to volunteer for the sunset program.   Pat tells me that the entire area in front of the lighthouse has been designated as a whale sanctuary, and the “whale song” is even believed to have a calming effect.

The lighthouse, built in 1914 on solid rock was the last lighthouse in Washington to be electrified, in 1951.   The location of the original Fourth Order Fresnel lens is still unknown.  It still has some of the original brass fittings covering the lantern room vents, because it was deemed “too far north” when most of the brass was collected for reuse during WWII.

I wait outside as the sun begins to drop lower, revealing more promise of color.  Soon, all my work and waiting pays off, as the sky turn shades of coral, lilac, mauve, and finally, magenta.  Twilight arrives all too quickly, and I head up the trail, turning frequently to look back over my shoulder, while I keep saying, “just one last look…”

“I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife.”
~John Masefield, Sea Fever