Day 266
Riding the ferry
through the San Juan Islands
Emerald
Islands dotting a blue-green sea surrounded by sparkles of dancing diamonds in
a British Columbia “fantasy”-land of beauty and adventure as we lounged on the
deck of a B.C. Ferry bound to Victoria having left port of ’Tswassen sojourning
through the San Jaun Islands.
Yeah!
I had discovered my Nirvana on the
high summits of colorful Colorado’s Rocky Mountain retreat; trekked even
farther west to God’s own-country of
the Great Northwest which tugged my flighty-heart from its love of the high
places, on to Canada and an even more beautifully-fantastic onslaught of primal
adventure of the body, mind and soul. Life is Good!
When
we re-located to awesome-Oregon, we often vacationed north-of-the-border. Yum!
The
sights through the San Juan Islands fill any heart with wonder, hope and peace;
that natural heavenly-cathedral calls
sacred-souls in Praise! Honor! And, Glory! to the Almighty!
One
of the most humorous incidents on the ferry occurred just before and just after
leaving port for the westward journey. Yes! Sir! It takes all kinds! Like: Cool-dude
& Bikini-babe!
As
we came on deck for the watery-trek across the blue lagoon toward our
destination of Victoria, the ship was backing away from its dock into the bay.
A “Cool”-dude young man wearing swimming trunks in the company of a
“Bikini-clad babe” came up from the cargo hold where cars and trucks parked for
the voyage; Mr. Un-“sophisticated” set up two folding lounge chairs in the
bright sun against the bulkhead of the transport and put down his cooler.
Seating his sidekick and taking the remaining chair, he opened the cooler,
withdrew two crystal stemware flutes frosted from the cool interior of the
container and glistening in the warm afternoon sun.
Removing
a magnum bottle of “adult” (out of and above his lowly place---but…providing ne
hell-of-a show for the vagrant spectators not paying for the play)
sparkle-beverage, removing the foil, untwisting the wire securement and loudly
popping the cork, he dutifully poured wine ¾’s full in his mates flute and
then, his own. Looking like suave, sophisticated, debonair fiction secret agent
007-James Bond about to garner just
one more conquest, our intrepid imposter offered a class toast to his
Bikini-babe clinking the delicate crystals together. Voila! Me boy!
Just
as they raised the “Royal” enhancements to their waiting lips---dulling
cool-shade overtook the sun worshipers ruining the moment as the superstructure
changed position…the ship had turned in a westerly direction and the party
revelers were caught with their swim-ensembles “down” (so to speak). Quickly
recovering from his unexpected disaster-in-the-making, Mr. “Cool”-dude grabbed both crystal glasses
slashing liquid bubbles onto the steel deck, cashed his treasures in the
cooler, snatched up the recalcitrant chairs and made a hurried-exit,
stage-left, to the other side of the vessel and into the warm, shining sun---once
more.
The
spectators had a good laugh at the burgeoning Playboy’s expense. Ah! C’est
la vie!
I
admit that I felt a tinge-of-pain for our wanna-be Casanova---after all…he’s
one of my own!
Funny!
These many years later, I vaguely recall some
of it; but---all…of the Bikini-show!
Uh!
Huh! I’ve seen some sites and they live in this loving-heart, satiated-soul and
wild-spirit!
Not being a
drinking-type---just let me propose a dry-toast…“To
pleasure!”
Ah! Cookie jar Sweet “I’ll drink to that!”
Memories!
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