When the ferry from Whidbey Island finally docked at Port Townsend on the Olympic Peninsula, it was nearly dark. My night vision sucks, so I drove down as many well-lighted streets as I could, seeking one of two things. One: where could I park my van so I could sleep safely in the back, or two, where could I find a cheap motel.
A friendly police officer told me there was no place nearby to park my van overnight, and pointed out a nearby motel.
The nearby motel was full. I was tired and hungry. The clerk at the full motel suggested I try a "...newish place...near the water...I can't vouch for it...nobody I know has stayed there." I went there. A room was available for $31.00. I took it.
However, I made the mistake of asking the young girl on the desk for directions to the room and to a nearby seafood restaurant, if such might still be open. (It was a Sunday night, and about 8:50 p.m.) This girl was one of the prettiest girls I'd seen on my journey, and I hope her nascent beauty carries her far in this world, because her brains won't.
Me: "Can you tell me where I might find a restaurant that's open? I know it's nearly nine o'clock."
Pretty girl: "I don't know."
Me: "You don't know any restaurants, or you don't know any that might be open?"
Pretty girl: "The other thing. That might be open."
Me: "Maybe you could suggest a restaurant, and we could call them."
Pretty girl: "Oh. Um. Oh. What's the number?"
Me: "How would I know? I don't know what restaurants there are here in Port Townsend. I thought you might know some."
Pretty girl: "I'm not from here."
Me: "OK. Then perhaps you have a list of restaurants somewhere...?"
Pretty girl: "Oh. Oh, yes. We do. Here." (She handed me a list of restaurants.)
Me: "So do you know any that serve seafood? These are just names."
Pretty girl: "What kind of seafood?"
Me: "Fish."
Pretty girl: "I don't eat fish."
Me: "That's OK. I just wondered if you might know which of these restaurants serve fish. Perhaps local fish."
Pretty girl: "I never heard of local fish."
Me: "It's not a kind of fish. I just mean fish that is caught in the waters around here."
Pretty girl: "I don't know what they catch. I don't fish."
Me: "What's the nearest place on this list, do you think?"
Pretty girl: "You could try -----------. Sometimes I park my car there."
Me: "I don't see the name on this list. Do they serve fish?"
Pretty girl: "I don't know. They let me park for free."
Me: "If you'll give me the list, I'll call them."
Pretty girl: "They're just down the street. There's a big blue sign out front. Well, not on the front. Sort of on the side."
Me: "How far down the street. And which side? I don't see too well in the dark."
Pretty girl: (Turns her whole body to the left, then to the right) Let's see. This side. (gestures with her left hand.)
Me: "I'll try it."
Pretty girl: "It says surf 'n turn on the sign. Is that what you want?"
Me: "Well, I'd like the surf without the turf."
Pretty girl: "What's surf? I don't know that."
Me: "It's like fish. Seafood. Something like that."
Pretty girl: "I never eat things like that."
She then gave me vague directions to my room, and I set off in my car to find the restaurant with the blue sign. It did not exist. Or I could not find it after 20 minutes of searching. I did find a diner that was open finally, which was just fine. I had deep-fried catfish which, with enough tartar sauce, was OK.
Such was my introduction to Port Townsend, Olympic Peninsula.
I realize it's mean-spirited of me to report a nearly-verbatim dialog with this young girl, but I was so taken with her open-eyed innocence and Gracie Allen replies, that I could help myself.
The ensuring days turned out much better. It happened that when i awoke the next morning, I found that the motel was indeed right on the water ("The place was built on landfill," a passerby told me), and it afforded a beautiful view of the water I had crossed the evening before.
And so I was off to explore the Olympic Peninsula, a journey...an adventure...an agglomerate of scenes that will stay forever in my memory. These will be the subjects of my next posting. Stay tuned for Port Angeles...Sequim...Crescent Lake...Ruby Beach and more. (A hint of what's coming: the the breathtakingly blue, glistening glacial Crescent Lake.)
Beautiful photos again, Kent! You're feeding the wanderlust that's been plaguing me of late! How I envy your adventure.
Posted by: Kay Dennison | August 21, 2007 at 07:55 PM
Ha! I had to look back to see if you mentioned that she was "blonde." No offense to any blondes out there!!! Oh, but I would've loved to just WATCH that exchange....there really ARE people like that out there! When I say "out there" I mean in the world...not necessarily Washington and Oregon. Thanks for a good bedtime story :):)
Posted by: Judy Kroh | August 22, 2007 at 12:44 AM
approx how many people surf today(2010) in the U.S> and the world?
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It looks great and I like to travel in ferry. Because those travels are short and you can enjoy the oceans specially with a beer.
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It looks pretty nice. I would love to go there and visit that place.
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