...so much for technology by Ken Ely       "Below decks, the Evergreen Dreams!" I called out.       "Dock ahoy!" came the reply from the main salon of Heino Sunter's sloop.       "Permission to come aboard!"       "Come aboard!"       Once this formality had been indulged, Rachel and I stepped up onto the "quarter deck," into the cockpit, and descended to the comfortable bowels of the Catalina 36 to greet Heino and his wife, Kelle.       As I passed the chart table, I noticed a pair of junebug-green headsets lying upon it, still in their hermetically-sealed-nearly-impossible-to-open plastic package. But pleasantries had to be made, gin-and-tonics handed round, and toasts raised to friendship. Seats taken and animated conversation begun, I eyed the headsets. Their color was quite fetching.       "You like those?" Heino asked, chuckling.       "Resplendent!" I assured him.       "They are! And you won't believe what I paid for 'em," he assured me with pride.       "I never believe what you pay for anything," I assured him in return.       "Thirteen-ninety-five. It's the West Marine/Clearance sale price," he said around an ice cube. "Need a refill?"       Heino was effulgent (his natural condition, now aided by his dislike of weakly mixed drinks) in his anticipation of deploying the bug-green headsets. They were for anchoring, picking up buoys and for docking. No more would he and Kelle have to shout unintelligibly at each other through the covered wagon canopy that enveloped the after third of their boat. "You will definitely see them in use when we get to Rosario!" he pronounced.       Why Rosario? Well, mainly because that was our intended first port-of-call on the cruise we were planning over the gin-and-tonics. It was to be a two-boat cruise. We would leave Blaine together, bucking the relatively mild flood south to Pt. Lawrence, arriving there in time to ride the ebb west past Doe Bay through Obstruction Pass - a leg that can be slow going if you are heading the tide.       The day of our departure, we did not witness Evergreen leaving her slip. She was berthed on the Semiahmoo side of Drayton Harbor, while Naniloa was moored on the "downtown" side. As we backed out of our own stall, I speculated to Rachel that Heino and Kelle were employing their junebug technology to leave the dock. The tide runs, ebb and flood, under the floats in Semiahmoo Marina and this had always been considered a nemesis by Heino.       Evergreen was first to fetch the green can and was waiting for us. As we ranged alongside, I hailed to ask Heino if he used his coruscating headsets.       "Oh, yeah! Kelle stood right there on deck just abaft the shrouds and manned the pike pole. I talked to her from the cockpit like she was beside me! Technology is great!"       We made our run down to Pt. Lawrence under power; set all plain sail on a 6-knot SE wind for our westing past Doe Bay; motor-sailed through Obstruction Pass and did not hand the canvas until we brought up full under Rosario Mansion. For whatever reason, even with Naniloa's old-fashioned rig, we motored in for our buoy first.       With the boat hook, I carried our buoy ring aboard over the larboard quarter, passed the free end of the mooring bridle (that had been brought aft from the riding bitt) through the ring, and walked it forward as the boat paid off with the wind. In the three-knot late afternoon breeze, it was little effort to manually haul Naniloa up to her mooring without help from the diesel. As I was thus engaged, Evergreen glided past us to leeward of the buoy with ample swing. Heino was on the bow, boat hook in hand; Kelle was at the wheel. The side curtains were off the cockpit canopy but the dodger and its top were still set. The ears of both mariners were festooned with the junebug-green headsets. I called aft to Rachel, " Now we get to see mooring technology at work!"       Heino's lips moved. Evergreen rounded to and crept back up to her mark.       Heino poised with his boat hook in the pulpit. As they passed us once more, both sets of lips moved in communication. Evergreen slowed but did not quite come up all-standing. Heino hooked the buoy. The boat's continued way carried her bow beyond the buoy, bringing Heino around after it to face us. Again, his lips moved. The engine engaged, water boiled under Evergreen counter. She came to a halt. Then she began to edge astern. Heino's lips moved once more as he turned with the progress of the buoy. But Evergreen continued her traverse astern.       Heino Sunter is a big man; but as Evergreen retreated unchecked from the buoy, his bigness was put to the test. Brought by Evergreen sternway to a kneeling position beside the head stay, Heino held with both hands onto the boat hook - which was making every effort to part from him. He turned his head once more. His lips moved ardently! But Evergreen continued astern with indifference.       Fascinated, I dallied my mooring bridle around the bitt so I could watch. Heino was now being pulled, arms and body outstretched, over the pulpit. Suddenly, Cascade Bay reverberated with "STOP, GAWDAMMIT!!!"       Kelle put Evergreen in neutral. As I stooped to free my bridle and resume hauling Naniloa up to her buoy, I observed to Rachel, "So much for technology in mooring!"       Once both boats were made fast and tidy on their buoys, Rachel and I put off in our skiff. Coming alongside Evergreen I called out the necessary formalities. As we stepped down the companionway past the chart table, I spied the bug-green headsets. Taking the proffered gin-and-tonic from Heino's hand, I said, "So?"       He shrugged. "The mast and shrouds blocked the signal, I guess."       "Well, I don't think anyone anywhere in the bay had any doubts about your FINAL signal!" I raised my glass. "Here's to technology!" ...back to 48° North title page.