Here’s one thing I love about the sea: there’s never a dull moment. Even when the weather’s calm, as it was this morning, and the surface is placid, things are going on.
Telling Tom, “I must go down to the sea again” I headed to the beach with my cup of tea, my yoga mat and my journal. I had nothing more planned than a bit of writing and stretching in the sun that has finally arrived here on Whidbey.
Instead I found this.
My first thought: WTF. My second: Oh please don’t let that be a dead whale.
I shouted up to Tom, “Bring the binoculars and the camera please.”
He arrived a minute later and gasped. We put the binocs to work and found we were looking at the hull of a capsized power boat.
Last night the harbor was rough and raucous. The gangway on the neighbor’s dock shrieked and clanked as each wave smacked the float. A bit of upheaval could be expected, but a capsized cabin cruiser? Aren’t they supposed to put up with waves?
A few weeks ago we would have jumped in kayaks and paddled out to see what was what, but we sold the kayaks. If Jeff hadn’t left his dinghy on the mooring instead of on the dock we could have gone out, but as things are, we’re stranded on land.
We watched as fishermen came and went, buzzing right by within a couple hundred yards of the capsized boat, without seeing it. There was a crowd at the Nichols’ launch ramp, clustered around a fishing boat on a trailer, but they didn’t seem to be too concerned. Perhaps they’d already checked it out before I got here.
I decided that when I was done stretching I’d head up and call the sheriff to see if anyone had reported the incident. What if there were someone on board? Not likely, as there was no dinghy in sight, but not impossible.
A month ago a derelict vessel burned and sank in Penn Cove, just ten miles north of here. So glad this one didn’t burn. Insurance fraud was suspected in that incident. Seeing all the other vessels around that managed to ride out last night’s swells with no problem, one can’t help but wonder.
The work boat finally headed out and tied up along side the stricken vessel. A diver strung a containment boom. The waves subsequently pushed it up over the hull so that it’s doing no good. So far I haven’t seen any sign of a slick.
The diver came back aboard and put on a tank, then went back in the water, then came out again. Then we sat and waited for something. Then he put on his tank again and went back in. And that’s where we sit.
Okay, I guess there is a dull moment. But just one.