Sanding and Grinding

This is our second night in the Sandspit Marina. The place has a small town feel to it. The kind where everyone knows everyone else's business.

A crusty old dodger in a beat up boat next to our slip said we'd better not tie up to this slip, that we should tell the marina operators to move us because he's going to be sanding and grinding around the clock for months. I didn't get the sense he'd done much work on that old derelict, so I told him we'd only be staying for a couple of nights. Well, he said, I reckon that'd be okay then.

When I walked up to the marina office to pay for our slip I asked the harbormaster about our neighbor Bill who thought we shouldn't dock in that slip because he would be sanding and grinding all day. His answer was that Bill won't be doing any grinding. "This isn't a boat yard"

So I was talking to Bill later that day. Actually Bill was doing the talking. He reminds me a bit of Willie Wonka with all his tall tales and that twinkle in his eye. When the harbormaster hollers from across the marina: "Hey Bill, I hear you're going to be doing some sanding and grinding!" Bill looked at me and laughed. Then yelled back: "No sir! No sanding and grinding going on here!"

One of the reasons I wanted to stop at this marina was that the guide book told us we could get our required park permit orientation at the Sandspit airport. When I tried to confirm that information with the park service they said that hasn't been the case for many years. So my book is a little out of date. Instead of taking care of the orientation today I went on a hike.

The harbormaster clued me into the location of the trailhead and it was fairly close by. The hike was gorgeous. The trail wandered along a river bank through lush old-growth forest.