A trip deown memory lane

The weather took a turn for the better after opening day and I finally stopped shivering.There is simply no place a beautiful on a clear sunny day than the Puget Sound area with explosively bright blue water reaching up to snow capped mountains; it is hard to beat.

I took the week to work on my Captains license renewal and take care of a few loose ends of business along with visiting a constant flow of old friends. I took the ferry ride across the pond and visited my lifelong friend and my family. On the way I took a ride down memory lane and drove past the house I was raised in. My dad built this house in 1957 for about eighteen thousand dollars, low bank water front and all. We sold it in 68 for about three times that and I heard I sold five years ago for ten times that. Times are hard and it just sold again for a much lower amount. The house had not changed much nor had the yard. Strange thing is it all seemed to have shrunk from my childhood memory, the yard and house smaller, funny thing.

We lived on a small bay that I explored endlessly in my wood planked rowboat. At that time a kid could take off with his buddies, grab a fishing pole and a clam shovel and have a sea food lunch, row for hours or play all day in the nearby woods without a parent’s worry. The Mothers in the “hood” all got together and made a rule, we could go out in our boats and not wear the life jacket—that is what we called a PFD—if we could swim across the bay nonstop. I tried several times until I made it. These were simpler times. My love of boats started in this bay, here I learned to sail on small sailing dinghies and operate an outboard motor.

My Dad’s friend had a very large cabin cruiser that I was so impressed by, a 24 footer! Dad had a Star class 21 foot racing sloop that won many races with. In those days a whole family would head to out fora week in a 22 foot boat and have a blast.

Another neighbor was the Johnson outboard dealer, I remember when everyone thought he was nuts because he started selling these weird Japanese motorcycles. He was the first Honda dealer in the area which paid off well.

All these images played in my head as I drove down the narrow lane of Madrona Point. I was very fortunate to be raised in such a place and in such a time.