BLUE MONDAY

August 22, 2011-Monday

The sun that had shone so beautifully yesterday was nowhere to be seen when we rose.

Outside it was a cool fifty-two and inside just four degrees warmer.

From the looks of things it was shaping up to be a blue Monday.

Onie worked on a Sunday crossword until it was time for breakfast then the couple worked it together. They were able to finish it in just under an hour.

A little rain had fallen while they ate and worked their brains but a struggling sun managed to peep through a few minutes before, once more giving way to gray skies.

The temp managed to climb a scant three degrees while the day progressed with Onie reading the paper and Pawpaw surfing the web.

In the afternoon Onie worked on making some sweet potato fries and onion soup while Pawpaw wrote, showered, dressed and called a friend on the phone.

The day was progressing but not quite as planned. We had thought we would get to the Soldotna post office before four, when the mail goes out, but it was already three thirty and we hadn’t had lunch.

We sat down to eat another of Onie’s feasts.

Half an hour after mail pickup, they only have one a day, we headed into town, to Freddies.

While Onie drove, Pawpaw talked to his friend, Jim, who looks after the house and grounds while we are gone. Jim had been to the house yesterday to water the fruit trees and tend the fish. Everything looked good, except for the dry ground and dying grass. Joseph, the young man who mows for us while we are gone, had been there and mowed down the only thing growing, the weeds. It had rained day before yesterday, half an inch, enough to settle the dust. Presently it was a balmy ninety eight degrees on Jim’s front porch and it was eight o’clock, his time. Everyone concerned continues to pray for a break in the heat and drought. It may take a hurricane to bring both.

In town we shopped before heading home but before we got too far the writer remembered he had been looking for caribou hides for son David. He hadn’t yet looked in Soldotna and with rain falling we decided to go back to town to look for the hides.

After a few stops we found a place on the Kenai Spur that was still open. With the tourist season basically over many of the shops have returned to shorter, 9-5, hours, and it was already past five.

The shop we found was connected to a taxidermy. The shop was closed but men were working with hides in the taxidermy and one offered to open the shop for us. We went inside and visited with him while we looked for hides. He didn’t have any caribou hides. He explained that he used to carry reindeer hides, imported from Scandinavia, but no longer did so. As for caribou hides nobody really sold them because they were usually full of holes from worms that live on the caribou. When a hunter takes a caribou with a good hide they usually keep it as it is a bit or a rarity and oddity. He did tell us that he knew of two places that had stacks of reindeer hides, one near Portage and one in Anchorage. We will look there next Sunday when we go in to pick up Kurt and Becky, if the shops are open.

Now we headed home and didn’t turn back. We were still being blessed with a few sprinkles but the clouds hanging overhead promised more heavy rain.

It came before we got home.

Hot onion soup on a cold rainy day is very good and that is what we had before settling in to watch a movie, The Bourne Identity.

When the movie ended we moved to the bedroom and the warmth of the electric blanket where we watched Baggage and Lingo before opting for sleep.

Outside the rain fell. It was fifty degrees.

WILL THE SUN EVER SHINE?

August 23, 2011-Tuesday

The alarm did its thing at seven waking Pawpaw and Onie. Pawpaw hit the snooze button a couple of times before Onie rose and went to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and prepare for Zumba and the gym.

Outside rain was still falling as it had all night long. The thermometer had stayed constant, too, still at fifty.

With the sound of the rain on the roof Pawpaw slept right through Onie’s leave taking. When he rose, at nine, the rain was still drumming on the roof. In the living area the heater was running but he still needed his heavy robe and beaver skin house shoes.

Sipping some Chai tea he played a couple of games of Solitaire before turning to his laptop to finish the story from yesterday and start this one.

As he wrote he harkened back to earlier days when he and Onie toured on a BMW motorcycle. On a trip to the Smokey Mountains, over a Labor Day weekend, they had encountered a lot of rain. Their tent, sleeping bags, some clothes and some rain gear all had to be packed, wet. Later, during the trip home, they had found some sunshine and a nice hillside next to the road. They stopped, unpacked all the wet gear, spread it out to dry and lay back in the grass, to rest, while everything dried. Then, as now, he wondered if folks passing by thought they were gypsies.

Now writing he wondered if the awning on the coach would have to be put up wet along with the slide covers. If so they would have to be dried the first time dry weather was encountered. The canopy was a different story and if it had to be put up wet it would certainly mildew and probably rot. Hopefully there would be a few days of sunshine and dry weather before we left for Coldspring. If there are no dry days perhaps the canopy can be dried in Kurt’s garage before it is stored.

Onie came dashing into the house when she got back home, trying to stay dry.

She had gotten to talk to our son, Gary, while in town. He and his wife, Kristin, had taken a short trip for their anniversary, but were now back home in Tennessee, hard at work.

With one o’clock approaching it was time to consider breaking our fast. Onie suggested buckwheat cakes and bacon and so it was. The Rescue jar of figs added to the buckwheat cakes made them very tasty and filling.

Our friend, Mark, had called while breakfast was being cooked. He was on the boat in Homer where the rain had stopped and the bay was flat. He was going to go out and try for some halibut and perhaps some silvers. He would call us later in the day to tell us how he fared but at the present time it looked like tomorrow would be a good day for us to try for some more halibut. A tentative date was made for seven, in the morning, depending on how he does today.

A maintenance project in the interior of the coach was started.

Mark called later and said he had tried for some silvers without any luck. He hadn’t wet a hook for halibut. The weather for tomorrow looked great and he looked forward to seeing us.

The driver went out and got boots out of the shed, his back pack and some foul weather gear and put them in the back of the Subaru. Then he loaded the ice chest.

He needed some screws for his project so he went into town and picked them up, stopped by the NAPA auto parts place to get a headlight refinishing kit that was supposed to be in. It wasn’t. He headed on to Freddie’s where he fueled up then headed back to the coach, for supper.

After supper the couple went to bed at eight thirty, in anticipation of an early wakeup call from the alarm.

Not used to retiring at such an early hour it was at least an hour before they managed to doze off.

Outside a light rain was falling.

A REALLY BIG DAY

August 24, 2011-Wednesday

When we stepped out the door it was thirty seven degrees and somewhat dry. It was five thirty, in the morning.

After having gotten up at four thirty, eating a quick breakfast, making a pot of tea, checking the weather for Katchemak Bay and the Barren Islands and loading the car we were ready to head to Homer for a day of fishing with Mark Wilson.

As we crossed the Kenai River in Soldotna we texted Mark to let him know we were on our way.

The morning was extraordinarily clear providing us an excellent view of two of the volcanoes that make up a part of the “ring of fire”, a horseshoe shaped string of volcanoes that covers twenty five thousand miles that arcs from the eastern Asian coast to the western coast of the Americas.

Redoubt, which was spewing smoke and ash a few years ago is across the bay from Soldotna and was seen first. Rarely is such an excellent view available from the Homer Highway.

Slumbering for many years now, Iliamna is resting across the water from Kasilof and Clam Gulch. Its’ snow covered peak was awesome in the early morning sun.

On this clear morning the sun that was shining so brightly on the ring of fire, it was lighting the eastern sky with all the colors of the rainbow and then some. While the camera couldn’t do it justice the memory of it will linger with us forever.

We were not the only beings enjoying the cool clear morning, thirty nine degrees, as a cow moose and her calf were grazing in the ditch.

Nearing Homer we could see the far distant Augustine, another volcano and part of the ring of fire. She last erupted in 1986. Over the years, while fishing for halibut, the writer has seen her puff smoke.

Topping the hill, as one must, to start the descent into Homer and onto the Spit we stopped to take a couple of more pictures.

By seven thirty the driver was in the bait shop getting twenty pounds of herring that would be used as halibut bait and then it was on to the parking lot where we unloaded the gear and headed for the boat.

The crisp morning air, now forty seven, made it easy to wear our coats instead of carrying them.

Curtains on the after portion of the boat were being removed by the writer and editor as they waited for Mark who was enjoying breakfast at the Two Sisters Restaurant.

Soon Mark joined us bringing some bait for silver salmon which we hoped to find and catch in Katchemak Bay.

Mark gave Onie a tour of the safety equipment on the boat as well as instructions on how to operate the engines, radios, and electronics.

The writer was busy getting the bumpers in and secured and readying the shore lines to release.

We were underway at 8:30 with Tom taking the wheel as we exited the harbor.

Riding down Katchemak Bay was like riding on a lake. The water barely had a ripple on it as we glided over the surface, leaving a long straight wake behind us.

Near the entrance to Halibut Cove we stopped the engines and set up two downriggers to troll for silvers.

For an hour we lazed along at about a mile an hour. Onie and Mark visited and watched the lines while Tom manned the wheel. At the end of the hour we had lost three baits but hadn’t hooked a fish. We decided we had had enough fun fishing for silvers, picked up the downriggers, stored the rods and headed further up the bay to try for halibut. Mark slowed the boat so Onie could get a picture of the still waters and a glacier.

Efforts were expended at two or three different places before we ended up at Bear Cove and the end of the bay. We had hooked and caught nada.

As we had cruised to the end of the bay we had looked at, with binoculars, a large Russian village on the mountainside adjacent to bay.

Having soaked bait for over two hours now with hardly a bite we decided to run out to Pogie and try our luck there.

With Tom at the wheel we headed out.

The further we got past the Spit the more small swells we encountered and in the distance we could see rain.

As we neared Pogie we could see several other boats already fishing. A quick look through the binoculars revealed some poles bending.

The engines were stopped and we began fishing, in rain.

The first bite came very quick. Mark had been the first to get a line in the water and as soon as he felt the tap tap of a halibut bite he handed the rod to Onie. She waited just an instant then lifted the rod tip and began to reel. The fish was on, or so we thought. She cranked and cranked on the reel. The drag was tightened and she cranked some more. At last we could see color or perhaps we should say colors. She had two fish, both halibut.

We felt that was a very auspicious start.

We kept fishing and the bite continued at a good pace and we kept catching fish.

While we were catching fish, we made three drifts, the rain fell harder and a good cold wind began to kick up. With the wind came increasingly large swells. When we had arrived we had been riding over swells that might have been two feet and they had no chop on top of them. Now with the fish still biting the swells had grown to three with a bigger one now and then.

The fishermen braced themselves against the side of the boat and kept fishing as the weather deteriorated. More fish were brought in. Some were thrown back and some were kept. Mark caught a Rock fish, a fish highly prized as table fare by many.

Sometime after five we were into the culling mode and the seas were into the building mode. We decided to keep what we had and head to the house. With the weather being what it was, and getting worse, it would be a slow ride in. We were in no danger but didn’t want to put ourselves there, either.

After storing the rods and securing loose items we started in. Running with the seas the ride was not uncomfortable, only a little slow.

Ten miles from Seldovia we were contacted, via radio, by a boat that was in trouble, the Sir Reel. She had engine trouble and only had two gallons of fuel left, not enough to get to Seldovia. She asked us for an assist. We headed over to her. On the way the author rigged a towing harness to keep the tow line out of our screws. We came alongside the Sir Reel and hove to while they heaved a line. With the line in hand it was secured to the towing harness and we got under way with the Sir Reel.

Mark notified the Coast Guard that we had received a distress call, had responded and had the vessel in tow. The Coast Guard asked for information on both vessels and our ETA in Seldovia.

Fortunately we had rounded a point before we took Sir Reel in tow and though it was still raining the seas were half of what they had been at Pogie. Towing slowed us down to half our previous speed and now we were making about nine miles an hour.

In a little over an hour we were inside Seldovia harbor where we stopped the engines and released the tow line. Sir Reel had enough fuel and power to make the last few hundred yards on her own.

We headed on in and tied up, unloaded our fish and Mark and the writer began cleaning the catch while Onie checked in with the harbormaster who wasn’t a master after all but a mistress.

A little after eight the fish had been fileted.

While Onie and Tom took the filets to the boat Mark checked with the Mad Fish Café to see if we could still get served. We could.

We sat down to eat at eight thirty and were finished a little after nine.

Outside light was failing fast so we quickly went to the boat and got under way.

The water was so smooth we made the run to Homer at almost forty miles an hour.

Mark was easing the Kingfisher into Homer harbor just before ten. The writer was busy getting bumpers over the side and attaching lines to cleats so we would be ready to tie up when we got to slip P26.

As the writer secured the land lines he noticed a light sprinkle was falling.

The curtains were put up to protect against what looked like rain. Gear on deck was stored inside the cabin. Mark declared that we were all very tired and he would clean the boat tomorrow, after he fished again. Although we were ready to help clean the boat he insisted that we start home as we had a two hour drive before us and he knew we had already been up eighteen hours and had at least two more to go before we could sleep.

With Mark’s help we got the fish and gear up to the car where we said goodnight to him at 10:40.

Then we started home.

We stopped at the Safeway in Homer for coke for the driver and ice for the fish.

Driving out of Homer light rain accompanied us.

Onie napped off and on as the writer drove and drank coke to stay awake and alert. He was very tired but managed to drive through the sprinkle and rain all the way home.

He shut off the ignition to the Subaru at 12:30.

Most all of the gear was left in the car and the duo went in and to bed, right away.

They were asleep at one. It had been a twenty and a half hour day.

A REALLY SHORT DAY

August 25, 2011-Thursday

Even though it was a short sleep Onie was up at seven for Zumba and the gym. She had her coffee, dressed and headed off to Zumba and gym by herself.

The writer slumbered on until nine thirty when his sister, Martha, called to visit. They talked for almost an hour before saying adios. Soon the writer was sleeping again.

After Zumba and the gym Onie headed home stopping at Freddies on the way. She was back in the coach at half past noon.

Still tired from the long day yesterday she went back to bed where the writer was sleeping.

At two thirty the writer woke.

Outside it was overcast, drizzling and fifty seven.

He fixed himself a cup of Chai tea and got some mini scones before sitting down to check his email, read enews, check the weather and the market.

He was still seated with his laptop when Onie got up at four.

She got a cup of coffee and read the paper.

The writer made notes and mused about private airplanes in Alaska. Because of the size of the state and lack of roads many folks have their own airplane. The Super Cub seems to be a favorite. Some folks learn to fly before they learn to drive and keep flying after they quit driving. Alaskans hold more private flying licenses than folks in any other state and there are less than a million people here. Having your own airplane handy means you can travel to remote places or to a big town to go shopping, any time you want. As a result some folks carve a crude landing strip out in the woods. Other folks choose to live in subdivisions developed especially for folks with airplanes. One such subdivision is close to our summer home. The homes there are nice, some having hangers built into the house right along with the car garage but in the summer some residents chose to keep their wings outside, ready to go at a moment’s notice.

While these and other thoughts were rambling through the author’s head and while Onie was still reading the paper Kay came to visit.

After a short visit she took her leave and we got dressed and went outside where we visited with Kris a little.

The fish from yesterday were still in our cooler, on ice. We needed to finish processing them so at seven we headed up to Kurt and Becky’s. Once there we set up to rinse, dry and vacuum the halibut and rock fish.

By eight we were on our way back home.

The overcast sky that had been with us all day persisted and brought some rain.

In the Marlin Onie rested while the writer made notes and fleshed out a story.

Sometime later we supped and revisited the events of yesterday before Onie went back to bed to watch Lingo.

While the events were still fresh in his mind the writer made notes of yesterday and today then picked up a book and read until one.

While it was warm and dry in the coach it was sprinkling and fifty one outside.

SHARKBITE

August 26, 2011-Friday

Onie was up an hour before the writer rose at eight thirty.

Outside it was still mostly cloudy, threatening rain and forty eight. The writer had heard a few drops hit the roof before he got up and figured they were in for another wet day.

By the time the writer joined Onie she’d had her coffee and worked on getting week twelve ready to post.

With a cup of Chai tea at hand the writer made notes and checked his email.

Onie was busy cleaning her kitchen.

With the kitchen clean she dressed for yard sales and at nine thirty she left with Dixie driving. Marguerite went along.

The writer stayed at his laptop making notes and writing until after one.

Outside it had cleared off with just a few clouds but the sky was mostly sunshine. Perhaps we would dry out a little.

Speaking of drying out, when we got home from halibut fishing we discovered we had a plumbing leak.

The writer looked for it after breakfast and a crossword. A little searching had been done last night and now the leak was located. It was near the water heater, in a hot water supply line at a Tee connection. The method in which the Tee had been made was foreign to the writer so he went to seek some advice from a wiser, more experienced head, Jay.

Lying on his stomach Jay looked at the leaky connection. Of course it was under a cabinet. A panel had to be removed and the floor to a storage cabinet had to be lifted up and out to get to the offending place. Peering into the dark recesses of the plumbing area, aided by a flashlight, Jay pronounced the cure for the leaking Tee was a half inch shark bite.

Being familiar with sharks the writer was a bit concerned as the nearest salt water was several miles away and, while sharks are sometimes caught here while fishing for halibut, it is not an everyday occurrence. In addition finding a shark with a half inch bite might not be an easy task and once it was under the cabinet for a while it would probably reek to high heaven. The writer questioned Jay about this decision to use a half inch shark bite and Jay assured him that would be the easiest and best way to replace the offending Tee. Still not convinced the writer asked for more information about this “shark bite”. Jay explained that this “shark bite” was an innovation in plumbing. All one had to do was cut the offending Tee out of the line and put this shark bite back in its place. Still not sure the writer asked for even more information. Jay said a Sharkbite is a plumbing fitting made of brass or copper that has push on fittings in lieu of pressure fittings which have to be installed with wrenches. Once the old Tee is removed all one has to do is place the Sharkbite in line with the existing lines and firmly push it onto the line. It seals itself negating the need for wrenches or pipe dope.

Once he understood the way a Sharkbite works the writer thought it was a great idea given the small space available to work in. A phone call was placed to Trustworthy Hardware to see if they had such an animal. Indeed they did. In fact they had several.

The writer set off to Trustworthy making a stop along the way to look for a tube cutter among Kurt’s tools. None was found but while he was in the house the writer turned the heat up to sixty eight, turned the water heater on as well as the well pump. When Kurt and Becky get back this Sunday night their house will be ready for them.

On the way to Trustworthy the writer stopped at the NAPA auto parts store to pick up a 3M headlight renewal kit.

The Sharkbite and a small tube cutter were purchased at Trustworthy and then the writer started home.

Just outside Trustworthy he saw Mark Wilson driving by with his Airstream in tow. He called Mark and then followed him into a parking lot where they visited a few minutes before going in to a Kaladi Coffee Shop for coffee and Chai tea. There they visited about the fishing trip the other day and Mark said he had some things for the boat. If the writer would take them to Kurt’s it would save him, Mark, a trip. Back outside the items were transferred to the Subaru, adieus were said and the driver started for Castaway.

Once there he fetched a five gallon bucket from the shed and he and Jay drained the water heater to minimize the amount of water that would end up under the cabinet once the hot water line was cut.

With the water heater drained he and Jay, once more laying down on the job, cut out the old Tee.

That was the hard part. Putting the Sharkbite in place was as easy as pushing it firmly onto the Pex tubing. Whoever invented this Sharkbite should run for president as he/she knows how to develop easy solutions for difficult problems. With an extra push on the Tee portion of the Sharkbite the lines were water tight once again.

With no apparent leaks when the system was pressured up, the writer placed the heater inside the cabinet to dry the water that had leaked there as well as the small amount that had been spilled when the lines had been cut.

No sooner was the last of the tools put back in place than Onie got home from the yard sales. The writer helped her unload her purchases, visited about the yard sales and her lunch then showed her the Sharkbite and the leak free system.

The leak free system was no longer leak free. The Sharkbite connection was leak free but when the lines had been cut and manipulated to install the Sharkbite apparently the connection to the water heater itself had been loosened. Now a small but steady stream emanated from the connection. There was about two inches of space in which to get ones hands and a tool to tighten the fitting. The fitting was plastic and not suited to any wrench so a pair of channel locks was used to tighten the fitting, bit by bit. When it appeared the leak was stopped the heater was put back in place.

Tired and hungry the writer/plumber was happy to be seated outside at the picnic table where Onie served him a salad. Before starting on his salad he lit the propane grill and placed the marinated venison back strap on it to cook.

It was a nice evening to be outside and after the meal we lingered a while enjoying a campfire until ten.

Then we went inside, got ready for bed, watched a little TV and then went to sleep.

CAJUN

August 27, 2011-Saturday

It is definitely getting a little cooler in the mornings. This morning it was forty five and overcast at seven with a few sprinkles falling.

Onie was up for coffee and to work on a story to post. The writer sipped his Chai tea, made notes and wrote until Onie fixed a breakfast of halibut, egg, toast and fireweed jelly. That’s all folks, the fireweed jelly is gone.

Another check of the slow leak on the water heater connection revealed one tiny drip. With just a little bit more of a turn on the connection the drip stopped.

Together the writer and editor stripped the bed and the editor sorted the clothes for wash.

Onie was ready to start the etoufee so the writer chopped vegetables for her since he volunteered her to make it. With the chopping done the cook announced she needed tomato paste and chicken bouillon. The writer volunteered, perhaps he likes to volunteer, to go to Freddie’s to get the items for her but first he was going to start the wash.

He walked to the laundry under the sun that was now shining.

As the writer was loading the washers LaVon came by. The writer told her he was going to the store for Onie and would put the clothes in the dryer when he returned. LaVon inquired as to what was needed. When the writer replied she said there was no need to go to town. She had more than generous supply of both and would be glad to give us what we needed it we agreed not to replace it.

Tomato paste and chicken bouillon in hand the writer made his way back to the coach. Onie was surprised to see the supplies delivered in such short order but was glad to have them.

Free for a few minutes the writer went to get the honey wagon and start emptying the holding tanks. Once the pump was hooked up and running he began filling the fresh water tank.

Half way through the process he stopped to go check on the clothes that were washing. Some had finished washing and they were put in dryers then it was back to continue work on the tanks and fresh water.

With the tanks empty the contents of honey wagon were off loaded and then it was put up.

Onie and Tom went to fold clothes then headed back to the coach with the clean folded clothes.

Onie wanted to go up to Mike’s to help Marguerite wrap five cases of canned salmon jars and get them ready for trip home. After dropping her off the driver headed on to Kurt’s to drop off some supplies for the boat and pick up fish we had in his freezer.

Back at the laundry the driver finished folding the last of the clean clothes then went to get Onie from Mike’s.

It was five o’clock and time for her to start the shrimp in etoufee.

Jay was just getting back from retrieving his boat from the shop. The driver went to help him put his boat away then went to the coach to make some notes and help Onie take food to the Cajun night.

We started to eat at six. Among the Cajun items gracing the table were etoufee, jambalaya, red beans and rice and watermelon. In addition there was lots of other good stuff.

The cold and damp drove us home at eight.

Onie watched TV while the writer surfed the web then played a little solitaire, made notes and wrote.

Outside it was clear and fifty at eleven.

The laptop was occupied until twelve.

ANCHORAGE

August 28, 2011 Sunday

I believe it was mentioned yesterday that it is cooling off here. This morning at six it was a toasty thirty six under clear sunny skies.

We were both up at eight thirty.

We had breakfast, showered, dressed and went to pick up Marguerite. We were at church at eleven.

Before the service had really begun a lady invited us to lunch at her house. We had to ask for a rain check as we had to leave soon after lunch to drive to Anchorage. We agreed we will join her for lunch next week after church.

Church was over at noon and we were back at the coach at twelve twenty.

Sitting at the table we had some hot tea and a snack. We warmed our minds with crosswords before leaving the house at one thirty.

At Kurt’s we got a truck for the drive to Anchorage.

It was a beautiful day. Along the way we noticed some leaves were turning and the fireweed was almost completely bloomed out.

In Birdwood we stopped for fuel. Regular was a paltry $3.69 a gallon. That was a full thirty cents less than Soldotna.

We were in Anchorage at four thirty and went straight to the Alaska Fur Exchange. We were looking for reindeer hides for son, David. Inside we found a big stack of them. After looking at the hides we browsed a bit and visited with a lady who worked there. We explained what we were trying to do. She said if David contacted them, described what he was looking for in a hide they would take digital pictures, email them to him, he could select the ones he wants, advise them, pay by credit card and they would ship the hides to him. We thanked her for simplifying our lives and headed for the door.

From there we went to Starbucks to get something to tide us over while we waited for Kurt and Becky’s airplane to arrive.

We went to the airport and waited.

They arrived at six ten. They had taken an earlier flight than originally planned. While they had made the quick connection their luggage had not.

We went to eat Chinese and wait for the baggage.

We went back to Anchorage Airport at eight thirty and collected a box of corn and a suitcase. We met Mark Wilson and gave him some corn. He and Kasie arrived in their ‘51 Pontiac, two door sedan.

After a short visit we started home at nine with Kurt driving.

On the way back to Sterling we visited. They were really glad to be back.

Although it was already getting dark the sun shone through the clear air lighting the tops of the mountains on the far side of the Inlet.

Half way around the Inlet we stopped. Near the shore some Beluga whales played and we stopped to watch them.

Later we drove on toward their house getting there at eleven.

We were at our home at eleven fifteen and watched Forensic Files until midnight.