One more adventure before we head back to Eugene and face the final weeks of mold remediation.  We headed to the pier for a whale watching trip.

Morning meal was a quick waffle and oatmeal at the Inn so we could pack up and be on time for our sea adventure.  Arrived early and sat on the docks enjoying the sunshine.  Just before boarding, a huge group of teens filed in, apparently our pay dirt as the boat does not go out with less than 15.  Their chaperones were young but promising they would keep the teens on their best behavior.

Our boat was large enough to instill confidence in its ability to carry us safely through the experience.  Still, the gigantic swells further out past the protective reef and the dark ominous clouds hugging the coastline brought up Deadliest Catch thoughts and knotted my insides.

Safety speech officially given by a Marine Naturalist, the on board “go to” person for questions, followed by the boat pulling out into the protected harbor and heading out to sea.  Just outside the harbor but still in the protective area of the man-made reefs, we dropped two crab traps after loading them with the soup parts of fish and being invited to kiss the head for good luck.  No one accepted the offer.  John and I headed for the top, being reminded by the captain that the highest forward part of the boat had the most movement.  Not wanting to miss anything, we clutched the cold wet rail and held on as the boat jostled us further out to sea.

Monstrous 8 to 10 foot swells rising up, peaking with a quick pause then a roller coaster ride down, the ocean spray splatting out from under us.  An exhilarating ride reminiscent of the Big Dipper, an old wooden roller coaster on the Santa Cruse Boardwalk that I rode as a teen.  Thoughts of warm gloves temporarily forgotten as we white knuckled it out to a spot of sun in the distance. I always ask for lower deck aft on cruise ships and this outing was a harsh reminder of why.  I haven’t been this close to panic and terror in several decades but the thrill was worth the fright.  With several pair of spy glasses scanning the horizon, we waited in anticipation for a whale sighting, all the while, being pelted with rain and violently bobbing up and down in the ocean.  Good thing John and I don’t get sea sick.

After what seemed like endless hours, minutes actually, the boat turned towards the protective reef.  John and I laughingly shared the fact that had we seen whales, neither of us would have been willing to let go of the rails to take pictures.

Back in calmer waters we were invited to help pull up the crab traps with discussions about Oregon crabbing, crab identification, trolled for microscopic plankton and saw it up close in the cabin, handled whale baleen and had a multitude of sea birds and tide pool creatures pointed out and discussed.  No whales spotted although several people searched the horizon for a chance to yell “there she blows”.

Back on shore we peeled off the wet, stopped at a local café for hot soup and then headed back to our unintentional second home, La Quinta Inn, Eugene.

Morning came once again and a visit to Dr. Newman, a compassionate vet at Bush Animal Hospital, and then there was one.   Whatever the cause, disease, accident or just wearing out, life ends and those still alive are left with holes in their hearts.  Time passes, pain eases and we embrace happy memories to push us through the loss.  I want to believe that Millie and Ash are together again.  The Bash Sisters, rattling the windows of doggy heaven as they charge headlong into a universe of fluffy cloud walls, both feeling young and healthy, pain and cancer free.  They will be forever in our hearts.

The next two days pass quietly without much activity apart from watching TV and hugging the pug.

One thing I wanted to mention about our travels…TripAdvisor has been an immeasurable source of valuable information on eateries and things to do.  The reviews are our safety net and we thank the thousands of people who write reviews so that we are able to make informed choices.