Pacific Northwest coastline

The first time I recall being at the ocean was not the ocean at all.  It was the estuary known as the Puget Sound connecting the Pacific Ocean with the Strait of Juan de Fuca. We were at the Golden Gardens in Ballard, Washington with Mom's friend Lavonna.  I was squeamish about touching seaweed, but oh how much I loved Lavonna's teriyaki beef on sticks.  I could not eat enough of them to satisfy my appetite (more than once was scolded for eating more than a "reasonable" serving.) 

I always considered the Puget Sound to be "the ocean."  Whether from "Discovery Park", previously "Fort Lawton" where Dad was enlisted as a Military Police Officer before us girls were conceived; or Suquamish where Dad ran a grocery store on the reservation, or at lunch breaks on Bainbridge Island. 

To me the ocean consisted of water at the edge of rocky shores, barnacles, muscles, sand crabs, and seaweed, boats transporting people shore to shore, seagulls, and best of all mountainous views in the distance. I had no desire to swim or paddle in the cold water, or dig for clams or gooey ducks (slimy, smelly, and gross). "My definition" of ocean did not include sunbathing, surfing, paddleboarding, or beach bonfires.  In included a raincoat or windbreaker, "duck shoes", or waterproof boots, and misty air.

During my mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of latter-day saints in the Italy Rome Mission, my definition of "ocean" remained much the same.  Missionaries are discouraged from visiting beaches so when I was near water, it included rocky shores, waves, and boats ferrying people between the Italian mainland and Sardinia or other islands in the sea. The climate was different and I was even able to eat sea urchin eggs straight from the sea, consequently, my definition of "ocean" continued to include rocks and sea creatures.

Van, my husband, is from San Diego, California. I think it was during my first trip to San Diego when I realized that most people think of beach as sandy shores, sunbathing, sandcastles, surfing, boogieboarding, and bonfires. I was 25 years old. I did not find it as enjoyable as my version of 'ocean'.  I didn't like the pull of the tide swirling around me, throwing me off balance, and pushing me under. Rather than a meditative or thinking place, a true beach, especially on sunny days involved crowds and plenty of noise.    

And thus, I finally learned what is most commonly accepted as "ocean."

Van and I honeymooned at Spanish Head in Lincoln City, Oregon in June 1986.  The air was cool and skies overcast as we walked on the beach (bundles in jackets and waterproof footwear.) we tried flying a kite, but the winds were too strong to create lift. Although we were on a beautiful coastline, I mostly recall the sound of crashing waves as enjoyed our weekend together.

A few years later we enjoyed a Wright family reunion in Ocean Shores, Wahington. I can't recall the year at the moment, but we loved the driftwood, the sand, and time together with Mom and Dad. Outside of weddings, it was our first family gathering with parents, siblings, and our spouses. Teri's husband, Bob, created a t-shirt design with a Native American totem theme.  We were quite impressed by the design. Incidentally, just the other day I was hunting in my closet for a comfortable shirt when I happened upon one of those t-shirts Mom saved. 

In 2003 (I think) our own family took a vacation to Ocean Shores. We flew kits (poorly), created sandcastles, and explored pathways amid tall grasses.  A man on the beach offered me a starfish he just collected when he learned that I was looking to acquire one to take home.  I left the starfish on the kitchen counter and Maddie was in fits.  She would not sleep nor stop talking about how I was killing a starfish.  I still hear echoes of that accusation because Maddie accused me of murdering the starfish for years, until I rehomed it.  

In 2024, my sisters, niece (Juliet), daughter (Maddie) and I met in Anacortes, WA for a sister's weekend that included Fort Casey, a lighthouse tour, and a farmer's market.  I don't recall ever being in Skagit county before and enjoyed seeing sights that I had only been told about. Previously sister gatherings included our Mom at BYU Women's Conference, Logan Utah Music and Opera Festival, and time with Mom in Spokane. 

Since we live in Eastern Washington, most of my recent water experiences have been at lakes or rivers or gazing at clouds (which I seem to be fascinated with lately.)  The last weekend of May, Van and I will be enjoying one of our Inland Northwest "beach adaptations" - hot springs.  The one water situation that I complete immerse my body in water without nausea or hesitation. It is sometimes noisy like a California beach, and other times as contemplative as the shores of the Puget Sound.  101 degrees in geothermal mineral water at 20-minute intervals suits us well.

However, this past Mother's Day at Cannon Beach with my sisters and niece brought a delightful ocean refreshment.  The high tides, low tides, sunrises, sunsets, Haystack rock, estuary, and ocean waves felt like "home".  My skin and dry eyes drank in moisture without any additional additives or preservatives.  We walked and talked along the beach 2 or more times daily and enjoyed the panoramic views from our rooms at the Sea Sprite on the Estuary. It was such a compromise of "my ocean" and the common definition of ocean. From nearly everywhere I stood, I saw waves, hills, mountains, deep green trees, and even saw little daisies growing naturally among the grasses.  (I haven't seen so many tiny little daisies since creating daisy chains with Lynette at Catherine Blaine Junior High School in Magnolia.) And with the exception of low tide at Haystack Rock that Saturday, the beach was mostly devoid of human noise.

I am so grateful that Sam shared with us her favorite place!!  Cannon Beach was a mosaic of so many memories and little pleasures I have enjoyed during my lifetime. I am longing to go back and bring Van with me!