The Yellow Boat

Oystercatchers

The yellow boat is moored cozily -- with its mismatched ropes -- to the tiny dock in the little muddy bay.  The dock trundles out long, narrow and obstinately sturdy, like an ancient foot bridge.  Its planks are kept together by a motley assortment of absurdly confident bolts, with log booms that keep it afloat in the lapping tide.

The yellow boat takes us to Dot Island!  There is Bird Rock, an abutment of Chuckanut sandstone where stately Cormorants stand in their dork formations.  There also we see a pair of Oystercatchers catching.  Their fleshy stilt legs move them haltingly forward as they stare at us with tangerine alien eyes.  The yellow boat moves on.

Lunch was at Harris Street Cafe in Fairhaven.  Dave had the Eggs Toulouse, two soft poached eggs over toasted English muffin with a silky champagne tomato cream sauce.  I had the Huevos Laredos with thick corn tortillas pressed and grilled in-house, spicy black beans and guacamole.

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