So many factors influence my memory of a specific locale...
· Was it a comfortable anchorage?
· Why were we there?
· What did we do during our stay?
· Were other boats in the bay - who else was there?
· What was the weather?
|Photo: Fog rolls in at Takatz Bay|
|Photo: Calm water at Takatz Bay|
This year we saw the tops of the surrounding peaks before low clouds and rain rolled in to hide them again. Years of visits to Takatz merge into one colorful filmstrip in my mind. For example…
One year The Capt ran the skiff up to a tall bank at high tide so I could pick huckleberries from the water side of the overhanging bushes. I stood on the bow of the dinghy to harvest on my side, while some large unseen critter tromped noisily around the uphill side of the same berry patch. A bear? I thought so. Afterwards the skiff was a mess, thoroughly littered with twigs and leaves and its formerly white interior stained huckleberry-blue, but I had a generous quart of berries. Imagine my surprise when I tossed the fruit into a pan of water and little green worms wiggled out of some of those berries! Ugh. Of course we ate the berries… after I skimmed the worms off the water. That was the first and last time I was encouraged to pick berries from the dinghy; oh, the skiff cleanup took ages. I have found some other locations where the kayak works for berry picking, but it has never been as interesting as here in Takatz.