I woke up on Friday morning, the fifth day of our paddling adventure, with mixed feelings.  On the one hand, I felt decidedly grimy – ready for a hot shower, clean laundry, and lunches that consisted of something more exciting than a powerbar.  But on the other hand – man.  Over four days of paddling through all weather, currents, waves, I had fallen in love with the Salish Sea.  I wasn’t ready to leave these waters.

I think everyone felt that way.  We shoved off from Jones Island and everybody seemed to be in quiet, reflective moods.  We hung together closely as a group, although several boats paired off.  Steve and I had become especially close to B and M, the two English guys in our group, and we mostly paddled alongside them.

We pulled over on a rocky beach for an early lunch break, and Ben turned on the whale watch radio and got the news that the Southern Resident Killer Whales – J, K and L pods – had been spotted on the west side of San Juan Island.  Unfortunately, we were… on the east side of San Juan Island.  There was some talk of sprinting the approximately two miles it would take to cross overland to the west, but instead we scurried back to the boats in hopes of seeing J pod from the water (ultimate dream).

It wasn’t to be.  We all kind of knew it – they were heading north, all the way on the other side of the island; it looked like this was just a short visit.  Not surprised, but maybe the tiniest bit sad, we continued our paddle past a big seal haulout, headed for our final destination – the beach, and then the Sea Quest van.

We landed the kayaks a little after noon and pulled together one final time to get everything unloaded and cleaned out.  The boats, we left on the beach for the next group, who were meeting up and taking them right back on the water.  I tried not to be jealous, and to focus instead on the good part of the paddling being over: being reunited with my Birkenstocks.  After a week in Keen sandals that never quite dried out, I almost cried with joy when I slipped my Birks back on.  (They’re the Mayari vegan, if you’re interested, and I basically live in them.)  After the van dropped us in town, we all went our separate ways – a few people to the ferry, a few people to bum around town until the Clipper left, and Ben to the two-person tent he lives in while not guiding.  Steve and I lugged our heavy backpacks, full of waterlogged clothes, around Friday Harbor until we found a restaurant that would seat us.

Afternoon, and the Clipper, came too soon.  B and M had tickets too, so we made plans to meet up and share a table.

They claim to have fought off several people while saving our seats.  I believe them.  We settled in together and began discussing who would get first shower when we got back to our hotel rooms.  I asked our friends who smelled worse – me, or Steve – and they promptly answered, in unison, “Him.”

Eventually B, M and I headed to the upper deck to watch the Clipper steam out of the harbor.  Steve stayed below to guard our table and – this is important – the beers.

Chugging out of Friday Harbor.  I’m not ready, please don’t make me leave!

As we steamed out of the harbor, we watched a seaplane land.  I tried not to be jealous of the pilot, just arriving on San Juan Island instead of leaving.

We were determined to soak up all of the scenery on the way back to Seattle.  No matter how cold and windy it got.  We’d all been living rough for five days.  We were committed.

As the Clipper steamed through Boundary Pass, I spotted a coffee cup rolling around on deck.  I’d never have forgiven myself if it blew overboard, so I snatched it up and rushed down the stairs to throw it away.  Stopping by our table to check on Steve, I spotted out the window –

ORCAS!  I flew over the table, slammed myself against the window, shouted “ORCASORCASORCAS!” and the boat listed to starboard as everyone on the upper level rushed to look out the window.  The Clipper’s on-board naturalist came on the radio and announced that the T065 family was swimming off the stern of the boat.

I ran up the stairs, shouting to B and M, “Orcas, guys DID YOU SEE THEM DID YOU SEE THE ORCAS!”  They laughed, said they had seen the orcas, and were very relieved that I had seen them too.  They didn’t know what they were going to say to me if I’d missed them.  I was surprised M hadn’t flung himself overboard; his dream is to swim with them.

Still sad, still leaving a piece of my heart in the islands – but it felt right to have been seen off by the Biggs.  They’re incredible, majestic, beautiful creatures and it was my great privilege to see them twice on this trip.

Next week: hello, civilization – Seattle!