By Becky Coffield


Quiet Blaine Has Delights of Its Own

Blaine, Washington, perched on the very edge of the American-Canadian border, was the surprise of the summer for my husband Tom and I as we reacquainted ourselves with the delights of the San Juan Islands after a sixteen year absence. Although not technically a part of the San Juans, my eyes kept wandering across the chart and the Straits of Georgia to the small criss-crosses identifying the town of Blaine. And so, one fine morning we pulled anchor in sweet Sucia and headed Treasure Island, our gaff-rigged schooner, across the Straits, stopping en route to fish Alden Bank.
      Hundreds of crab pots led the way to Drayton Harbor, and I made a mental note to remember this critical fact should I ever get so lucky as to actually have a fish carcass to use as bait.
      Part of the Port of Bellingham, Blaine sits alone in Semiahmoo Bay, offering shelter and services in Drayton Harbor. And what shelter! The port facilities are obviously the pride of the town. Gorgeously flower bedecked, cement docks lead to gateways with immaculately clean restrooms, private shower rooms, and a spotless laundry facility.
      Port employees were extremely friendly and helpful, and moorage was comparatively reasonable. For those who prefer to anchor, Drayton Bay provides good holding ground.
      Blaine Marine Park, directly across from the docks, gives boat-bound pooches plenty of area to sniff and walk. Lots of doggie-doo resources are available also, both dockside and in the park.
      One of the main attractions in Blaine is the Peace Arch Park, a spectacularly landscaped park, extending across both borders.
      Horticulturalists (and just plain old flower lovers) will revel in the magnificent arrangement of flowers and shrubs enhancing the yearly sculpture exhibition.
      The arch itself, erected exactly on the border, has a touching history. Standing 67 feet high, the structure is supposedly earthquake proof, and well it may be since it has been standing since 1814. The American side of the arch is inscribed “Children of a Common Mother.” The Canadian side reads, “Brethren Dwelling Together in Unity.” Another plaque reads, “May These Gates Never Be Closed,” referring to the non-militarization of the border between America and Canada. (I could not help but notice that the gates are rather slow nowadays judging by the endless line of slow moving vehicles attempting to cross the border!)
      Robert Moran, of Rosario Mansion (Rosario Resort) fame, donated all of the shrubbery for the original seven acre park. The park has expanded to forty acres, thanks to the donations of American and Canadian school children.
      Blaine has a number of small restaurants for those sick of shipboard fare like mine, but alas – the grocery store is about a mile away – and there’s NO bookstore!
      Regardless, the trip to Blaine was a delightful excursion, and the great sail across the Straits of Georgia back to Sucia sweetened it even more.

Sweet Sucia

Of all Washington State’s Marine Parks, Sucia is just incomparable. Never mind that the anchorages are heavily populated all summer long, the island park is still delightful.
      My husband Tom and I first visited Sucia Island almost thirty years ago when we transited the Inside Passage to Alaska aboard our Cal 2-34, Cabaret. We returned to the area several times during the following decades, never to be disappointed.
      This year, our first visit to the San Juan Islands in fifteen years, found us excitedly planning to spend time again on Sucia. We were elated to find that our memories had not deceived us - the island was perhaps even better than we remembered.
      Despite the increased number of visitors, the islands bays and inlets provide ample anchorage and good holding ground. The hiking trails criss-crossing the island are well marked and maintained, and the addition of mooring buoys and whatever-those-other-things-are-called, allow more boats to be secured without anchoring over someone’s ground tackle. At night, Sucia looks like a city of street lights with anchor lights serving as guides for those arriving late. Daytime finds its beaches and trails busy with the more energetic who are not content to sit at anchor and “mellow out.” Despite the plethora of people, everyone seems to get along well…well enough, anyway.
      Matia Island, Sucia’s smaller sister, is far more private, sedate and mysterious feeling, with excellent bottom fishing just off the northern kelp beds and an exquisite one mile walk through old growth fir and cedar, cannot compete with Sucia for anchorages, hiking trails, and its numerous trails to explore.
      Matia’s Rolfe Cove is alive with currents swirling and roiling wildly through the small bay. A mooring buoy or the security of a dock is almost a must here.
      But perhaps we are just partial to Sucia because it was our first marine park experience so many years ago. We were flabbergasted by the uniqueness of an island park, and our visit was early enough in the season that there were few boaters present. We were so impressed by the many organizations that donated time and money to secure Sucia for public use. Over 60 organizations participated in this endeavor, giving boaters, for all time, access to this wonderfully fingered island.
      Even in mid-summer I find myself looking forward to September on Sucia, for the island is, as expected, a whole different experience when most people’s vacations are over and school resumes. Silent bays, fall leaves and a touch of chill in the air enhance the island’s charm and changes its mood to one of thoughtful reflection from that of busy hostess. Cool mornings and hot afternoons often mark the waning days of summer here. Island bees, irascible anyway, become downright hostile – I stick to the shoreline more in my amblings as I remember the year when my son, then ten, stepped on a yellow jackets’ nest and was brutally stung by the riled, vicious little critters.
      The quiet and calm of September are hard to disturb. Even starting up one’s outboard seems an assault on the peace and serenity that descends on the island. Fleece gets tugged from the boat’s compartments, and hot chocolate tastes especially good as the boat silently swings at anchor when the evening chill creeps in.
     As September fades, I know that in a few days I will head south, way south, to Arizona, where I will enjoy an endless procession of beautiful, sunny days all winter long. But all through the months of endless summer, I will be thinking of my boat, stashed in Poulsbo for the winter, and I will be sneaking peeks at the charts for my next summer’s journey. You can bet that Sucia will again be one of my islands of call.

Becky Coffield is the author of Life Was A Cabaret: A Tale of Two Fools, A Boat, and a Big-Ass Ocean, and the suspense novel, Northern Escape. Both are available on her website at www.rlcoffield.com, or amazon.com.

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Above left: Sucia Dock - even with its popularity, Sucia is still delightful. Flowers and sculpture are in the Peace Arch Park at Blaine.
Above: Peace Arch on the Washington-Canadian border. Suscia Island's many bays and inlets provide ample anchorage and good holding ground. Over 60 boating organizations donated time and money to secure Sucia Island for public use. Rolfe Cove on Mitia Island. Sailing across the Straits of Georgia back to Sucia.