Coastal Washington has been a bit cold and dreary this week, but we enjoy staying in place for one full week here.  It has been a lot of miles since starting in the middle of March. 

Arrived here last Thursday and found the RV park to be less than mediocre.  The roads were gravel and low with many water-filled potholes.  The grass had not been mowed and lots of clumps of lawn clippings indicated that mowing was normally let go too long.  Worse, the tap water was yellow and turbid.  We have elected to bring home water for cooking and drinking rather than chance the local brew.  Still, we have been happy not to move the rig.

On Saturday, we joined a Westport pelagic boat trip to the Grayland Canyon some thirty miles off the coast.  Gladly the wind died on Friday and did not start picking up until Saturday afternoon.  The seas stayed at least a bit below ten feet.  The captain kept the heading at 270 degrees and ran hard to get us to the edge of the continental shelf.  Along the way we saw most of the coastal seabirds including hundreds of sooty shearwaters and a lone tufted puffin or "football with wings."

I stayed at the back corner of the cabin where I could look forward into the stiff wind and spray if necessary and stay reasonably dry and warm.  We were off course well dressed with long-johns, fleece, rainsuit, and boots for this trip.  About half way out I heard the cry "skua!," turned and walked to the opposite (starboard) corner to see a bird larger and fatter than the gulls turning slowly away.  The tail was short and the "flash" broad on the gray hunter.  I looked for Anne and she saw me and gave me a thumbs up.  We had both seen this South Polar Skua, a life bird for the two of us.  The boat continued its westward passage. 

At thirty miles the wind was up but the seas still not too bad.  The boat slowed and chum and fish oil scattered aft.  The boat circled.  There was another cry for storm petrel, and we saw our first fork-tailed storm petrel skimming over the oil.  Another life-bird.  Then the albatross began to arrive.  The black-footed albatross is not much larger than a goose, but its seven-foot wingspan makes it appear a giant among the gulls.  At least seven came into the boat and some sat down in the water and drifted with us as gulls circled and cried among the chum.  What a grand site.  The albatross was our third life-bird for the day.

The weather had held.  We passed through one shower which yielded a fine rainbow, but most of our ten hours passed without rain.  There was always spray, of course, and we cleaned our lenses repeatedly.  A few folks became sick, but the scoplamine tablets worked for us.  I ate lunch after the boat turned around.  Anne decided to pass and took another pill that kept her comfortable.  The trailing seas pushed us back to harbor.  The craft surfed past the jetty where red knot and pelicans roosted.   

We bought fish for dinner and rinsed off at home.  Tired but refreshed by the rough boat ride we shared a bottle of Rogue ale and dined on tuna.  It was a fine day of birding.

Since Saturday the weather has been a bit soggy, but we have gone out every day for a drive or short hike.  Now we enjoy the Westport Library with local books, The Seattle Times and WiFi access.  Too bad there is no Wall Street Journal but still good.

Tomorrow we make a short drive to spend a night in a state forest near Olympia.  We will listen for owls there.  On Friday we pull into Bonney Lake near Tacoma to visit with old friends for the weekend.  Our course is no longer westward but will become east and southeast as we begin a long-long route to Arizona and home.