My Mother’s Garden

My Mother's Garden
My mother’s garden in Portland
I am always amazed when arriving at the house, as long as it is summer, the garden is spectacular. Roses, fireweed, mums, lilies, rhododendron, and so many flowers I do not know, a riot of color greets the eye. Among the flowers less colorful, but no less beautiful plants, in particular an array of hostas fill every available corner. Then there are those plants chosen not for looks but for the produce, tomatoes, green beans, blueberries, potatoes, and several varieties of herbs. Every meal seems to feature a little something from the yard.

She is not alone… In the old Larelhurst neighborhood of Portland, the bar is set high. Every block hosts one or two gardens that you just have to stop and enjoy. These are streets that just invite slow walks on a warm summer’s eve.

The garden is a delight and at the same time makes me feel inadequate. My own yard comes nowhere close, the few flowers and fruit trees just do not measure up to this impressive product of the gardener’s art. I will just have to go a little further when I get home, perhaps another planting, another stone wall. I have a long ways to go.

Carnival

This was no run down operation, hanging on to faded glory. The rides and buildings were all in good repair, all of the bulbs lit, with fresh paint and empty trash bins. Even on a weekday night there were lines at many rides, screams and cheers echoing through the night air.

Santa Cruz Boardwalk
The roller coaster and rides along the boardwalk at Santa Cruz

Considering Another World

This small boat is no cruise ship, there is no insulation from the world we travel. We shop for supplies in the same stores as local folks, use the same harbors, tie up for the night next to the working boats. We are provided a view into a different world and the lives of people who live there.

Tenakee Harbor
Fishing boats on the wharf at Tenakee Harbor
My father worked the salmon boats when he was a teenager, then left to find a another path. I may have had some odd jobs in my teen years, but never anything quite like that. I wonder what it is really like to live there, in a world that is more than a few steps removed from our tamed and civilized towns and cities found in most of the country. A place where most folks still wrest a living from what the natural world provides. A place where the vagaries of nature have such an immediate impact on everyday life.

I chat with a lady working on a gill net strung along the dock, performing the age old fisherman’s ritual of mending the net and lines. I see another life, of fish and water, where regulations and luck determine the results of the fishing season, whether the bills get paid and if the boat gets fixed.

I meet folks who have lived in remote communities much of their lives, places where they would like to spend the remainder of their days if economics and luck permits. A struggle made more precarious when a cannery closes, or a soft economy allows fewer sportsman to come fish local waters and spend money earned in the cities far to the south.

I see a fishing community remaking itself to provide a place interesting enough that the cruise ships will stop for a day. Floating cities with thousands of people and thousands of wallets full of dollars that can provide a better life for local residents. That money could create a future here for children that may not have to leave and seek a living elsewhere. There is a once closed cannery complex remodeled into a large visitor center, dozens of boats in the harbor for charter fisherman, whale watching excursions and eco-tours.

I spend a moment talking with a young woman, who has bet on the local economy and started a small cafe. Behind me are tables full of cruise ship passengers, watching eagles and ravens squabble overhead as they munch on salmon tacos. The character of the town has changed, will continue to change. I see that there will be both good and unfortunate aspects of what is happening. I wonder what I will find when or if I visit again in a few years.

Traveling the world with open eyes gives one a perspective into other lives. So often when I meet someone who displays intolerance or even bigotry towards other nationalities, I find they have never traveled or seen much of the world. Experiencing the world is an important part of any life. To travel, to see, to consider what it means to live somewhere else.

Crossing Paths with a Humpback

Any sort of water activities, fishing or scuba diving, off the Kohala coast in winter involves a chance of seeing a whale. Indeed, Kohala is not just the part of the island we call home, it is the Hawaiian word for whale. In winter the whales are here in large numbers… Boat or drive north of Kawaihae and the odds approach certainty that you will see not just a few, but a lot of Humpback Whales as they cruise the waters along this sheltered coastline. Rental cars are parked along the coastal highway wherever a pod can be seen. Just getting to a dive site can involve navigating around a pod or two as blows and fins are seen in all directions. Dive beneath the water and you can listen to the songs of the whales echoing eerily through the blue.

Humpback Trio
A trio of Humpback Whales pass by off of point Adolphus, Alaska, 30 June 2004
During the winter these whales can be found around all of the Hawaiian Islands. They come here to mate and give birth in the warm tropical waters. The most sheltered areas in the lee of the large islands have the greatest concentrations, this includes the Kona and Kohala coast of the Big Island. Through January, February and March the whales can be seen all along the coast. Much of these waters have been designated the Hawaiian Islands Humpback Whale National Marine Sanctuary to protect these unique animals during their winter stay.

Bubble Net
Humpback Whales closing the bubble net at the entrance of Peril Straight, Alaska, 25 July 2006
Come spring the Hawaiian population of whales head north, to the food rich waters of Alaska. It is an interesting experience, in addition to regularly seeing these whales off the Kohala Coast, I regularly see them on the other end of the migration while boating in Alaska. The activity of the whales is different at either end of the journey, in Hawai’i they pretty much just hang out and sing, slowly cruising the coast or just hovering below the surface for many hours. In Alaska it is all about eating, here you watch whales circling through food rich areas over and over. Sometimes the whales cooperate to create bubble nets, encircling shoals of krill or herring.

In past journeys to Alaska I have had many opportunities to watch these majestic animals. We regularly stop and watch when we get the chance, drifting while whales feed around us. Hopefully this results in good photos to enjoy and post on the blog. At the end of the trip I fly back to Hawai’i to resume my usual life. But when winter comes the Humpbacks will follow, returning to the warm tropical waters around the islands to mate and give birth to the next generation. I look forward to seeing them off the Kohala Coast and listening to their songs while diving in those warm waters.

What are the odds of encountering the same whale at both ends of this journey? I wonder.