The three of us were hypnotized by the sea. It called to us.
The Wife suggested that we visit The Center for Wooden Boats on our final day of vacation, something I had talked about doing as part of my year-long Moby-Dick reading project, but couldn't quite fit into my work schedule. The Wife insisted and I listened.
The skipper who was going to captain the Admirable, a sailing gillnetter, had to unexpectedly cancel at the last minute. Instead, we signed up for the free public sailing of the steam launch Puffin. It was a quaint wooden boat with a small stove smack dab in the middle of its hull. Besides the four adult passengers and The Child, there was only room for the captain to steer the small vessel and the fireman to stoke the oven of its steam engine with pieces of oak and fir.
We putted about South Lake Union for almost forty-five minutes, getting to see dry docks and houseboats up close, soaking up bits of sunshine that peeked through the clouds and bits of briny spray that jumped over the bow.
We were still hypnotized, even though I seem to lack a proper pair of sea legs. I was somewhat dizzy on the docks both before and after the boat ride. I guess I was bred for terra firma.
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