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Part 3: We return to Winslow the next morning after breakfast, passing a brood of children paddling their bright kayaks into the harbor.
By Greg Breining — Spring
2004
We motor into the protection of Eagle Harbor, where ferries from Seattle arrive at Bainbridge Island. Tying off at the small Tyee Yacht Club (the Stannards are members), we unload and make an assault on the village of Winslow by kayak and dinghy. Stashing our rides at the city dock, we walk into town for dinner.
When we return to the waterfront, kayaks—pods of them, like dolphins—cross the still waters. We paddle our own to the harbor entrance and play in the evening light, watching the ferries and yachts come into port. We paddle to our mothership, toward the scallops of the Olympics in the setting sun. On the dock at the Tyee, Stannard says, “We really like it here.”
BIKES AND BERRIES
We return to Winslow the next morning after breakfast, passing a brood of children paddling their bright kayaks into the harbor. Down the shore by the ferry landing, I find Melissa Clune behind the desk at the Bike Barn. She’s 20 years old and on summer vacation from Syracuse University. She’s lived on Bainbridge since she was four, when her dad opened this bike shop.
The island was different then, she says. Beyond the borders of tiny Winslow spread a bucolic world of adventure. “It’s become a lot more populated,” she explains. “A lot more businesses. Traffic. More people.” Nowadays, 20,000 people live on the island, which is about ten miles long. Many commute to Seattle jobs. The atmosphere is decidedly less rural. There’s even a store where you can buy a feathered boa for your dog.
Yet the island still has its charm. We pedal north and discover the young coed is right about the building boom. Studs and chipboard form the outlines of new houses. But few are monsters, and most are hidden tastefully in the woods.
My blackberry accident still a stinging memory, we roll along beneath cedars and spruce. Rounding Manitou Beach, we have a beautiful view of Seattle as a great blue heron patrols the shallows at low tide. At Fay Bainbridge State Park on the northern end of the island, we explore a quarter-mile-long beach and catch yet another view of Rainier, which seems to float in the uncharacteristic heat.
To cool off, we find our way back to the boat and cast off. We round the southern tip of Bainbridge through Rich Passage and speed up Port Orchard Channel between the island and the Kitsap Peninsula. We venture deep into Manzanita Bay, anchor in 25 feet of water, and take a dip to cool off. Then we roar up the tidal currents of Agate Pass to complete our circumnavigation of Bainbridge.
That evening back at Lake Union, we dine at Doc’s Marina Grill on the waterfront as stars dance above the boats at their moorings. Susan and I split a wild berry cobbler. It’s delicious—full of ripe fruit. And I wonder: Are there blackberries in here?
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