Calm early evening as I row out on the high tide into the Strait. Translucent amber kelp globes ride the current—miniature suns magically glowing on the water.

Mt. Baker looms in the east, still fully cloaked in snow in mid-summer, and her white flanks pinken as she reflects the fading light. The San Juan Islands shimmer as deep blue sculptural forms to the north. Seals surround me, their shiny heads bobbing like fishing floats. Their dark eyes seem trusting, but perhaps that’s because they know they can easily out-maneuver my odd little boat. Of course, I prefer to believe they see in my eyes admiration that would never betray their trust.

Heading westward, I aim for the glittering swath of sunlight, as an eagle leads the way toward her roost on the wilder north shore of this peninsula. Then, arcing gracefully out of the water, two dolphins dance and frolic. In a trick of the light, their distinctive silhouettes appear as dazzling a blue as the sea and sky. Before long the wind freshens, and swells from the deep water bulge and bounce me along on a thrill ride. Then up ahead, even more thrilling, two whales spout and rise in the path of the sun across the water. They heave and breach repeatedly, moving in a small circle—perhaps dining on an unlucky seal. Later, a hundred gulls cluster on the same spot enjoying leftovers.

All of us out on the water tonight are predators—but all I want to capture are sights and sounds and the exhalations of whales tossing saltwater skyward.

Enjoy some other beachy adventures here.