Blakely Harbor, Bainbridge Island. We are at anchor again at last.

We are only 7 miles from our berth at Shilshole Marina in Seattle, but here, swinging on our own hook free from the dock, our only tie to shore our dinghy floating quietly behind us, we feel like we are out there again.

Although we can view the entire skyline of Seattle from our little anchorage, it is oh so quiet here, the only sounds are birds calling in the trees and a faint splash as a fish jumps close by and I think I just spotted an eagle in that Douglas Fir tree on shore.

Grizzley sits patiently on the side deck, longingly gazing towards shore. Time for some beach exploring, he says. So, we all jump in the dinghy and paddle to the head of the bay to walk among the ruins of the old lumber mill and smell the Spring flowers cropping up in the grass. Although the sun is out bright and warm today, it’s rained recently. The fresh earthy scent of moist ground and new plant growth surrounds us and takes over our senses as we walk along a wooded path through the park. Grizz discovers a nicely sized, crunchy stick and settles into a grassy spot in the sun to have a lazy chew. He reminds us every day that paradise is where ever you are, if you are careful enough to notice.

As we paddle back to Rivendell, we stop by to see our friends on Lea Scotia. Plans are made for a potluck later that night and we step aboard for an early evening cocktail.

As the sun sets in the west, brilliant pink and gold clouds dance across the sky. Laughter, the tinkle of ice, good conversation, fresh air — this is the stuff cruising is made of.

We head back to Rivendell an hour later to make up our potluck salad and dessert. After tossing our dishes together, we pile everything — cabbage salad, chocolate chip cookies, plates, serving spoons, forks, a few bottles of beer — into our salty dinghy and row back to Lea Scotia for our potluck in the dark. As we row (wishing we had gotten that outboard by now…) memories flood back of past nights just like this, taking the dinghy filled with food to share and anticipation of fun late hours with friends ahead.

Midway between our boats, we stop to splash our paddles in the glassy dark water, phosphorescence going wild as we disturb the surface. Brilliant green sparkles dance through the water and we never tire of watching this magic show.

This is life afloat.