prequel: autumn 1992 in Seaview

In autumn of 1992, we took a long vacation at the Sou’wester Lodge in Seaview.  It was supposed to be two weeks and became three and then three and a half.

Beaky and the Spartans

We stayed in the “Royal Spartan Manor” with the open door. These are wonderfully solid old trailers made by an aircraft company.

While we vacationed, we often went to the Heron and Beaver pub at the Shelburne Inn, where the young bartender told us how he had moved to the beach with only $100 and lived in a house for the first winter that had no hot water and a leaky roof, just to be there. His story began to inspire us to take the risk.

Sou’wester, west side

One thing that we loved about The Sou’wester was that it was called a “Bed and Make Your Own Damn Breakfast.” The Lodge contained two 2-bedroom suites on the top floor, four 1-bedroom suites on the second floor, and a large living room, the owner’s bedroom, and two one room rentals on the main floor. I was sure I could do a better job cleaning than whoever was doing it at the time…little realizing what it would be like when everything needed cleaning all at once by one person.  As well as the Lodge, the vacation rentals included four cabins and at least 12 vintage trailers.   But meanwhile….we were on vacation!

Robert’s beach kite

kite in the air

I proceeded to fall more in love with the beach.  After two weeks had passed, I started calling our housemate, Wilum, and our housecleaning clients and postponing our return.

Every day, I would take a walk down the Seaview beach approach road, south down the beach, back in at Holman Creek and walk up from 30th on K Place through Seaview.  Sometimes I would walk all the way up to Long Beach, always looking at for sale signs at houses.  But during the year we had postponed moving here, housing prices had doubled, and no more $35,ooo houses were to be had.

looking south toward North Head

Collie House, just around the corner from the Sou’wester

(Two years later, I cleaned this house a couple of times for the eccentric old Mrs. Collie.  She had been coming to the beach since the days of the Clamshell Railroad.  The tower room had been her art studio.  In the living room, vertical boards of light and dark wood alternated.  The bedrooms had no closets, and the kitchen and bathroom had the original fixtures.)

Harmony Lodge

Robert at Beard’s Hollow

Robert walked with me down to Beard’s Hollow occasionally; I walked down there several times during vacation. Here, the monstrously big rock that stands on its own:

the rock at Beard’s Hollow

Beard’s Hollow fishing rocks

mysterious Beard’s Hollow

mushrooms at Beard’s Hollow

Nature’s design at Beard’s Hollow

Beard’s Hollow Road

rocks at Beard’s Hollow

sedums on the North Head cliff

One day I got Robert to drive me up to the beach side of Loomis Lake state park and drop me off so I could walk the miles back down the beach to Seaview, about a ten miles walk, I think; I planned it to take all day and it did.

to the beach

a beach path market

somewhere along the beach toward Seaview

beach grass

The autumn before this vacation I had taken many a basketry class at the Seattle Basketry School in Fremont (no longer there). The grass reminded me of the base we would make to start a basket.

…in flight

closer to North Head

As I walked, the tide went out and came in again.  I pondered as I walked about how we could move to the beach, and, as I had a year before, I imagined doing some cleaning, Robert doing some odd jobs, and maybe making some crafty things to sell.  In Seattle, Robert’s skills had become known among our cleaning clients, and he had been doing some painting and carpentry for them.  Surely that could translate into beach life.

sunset in Seaview

Robert on a beach walk

birds at dusk

a borrowed bike

Robert on the Seaview approach road

It felt like home every time I walked back up this road and saw the warm light glowing at the Sou’wester windows.

By the third week of vacation, Robert, who used to be a roofer, went up on the roof to fix a leak…three stories up. Round about this time the owners of the S’wester offered us a job as cleaner and maintenance team. We would start out living in a trailer and Robert would convert the upstairs of the carriage house (next to the lodge) into a small apartment; it had a bedroom but needed kitchenette and bathroom. (He also used to be a plumber.)  In exchange for the roofing, they extended our vacation with some extra nights in one of the cabins and in the two bedroom, top story apartment, number 6.

Sou’wester sunporch

roofing (for me, terrifying!)

a potential garden

I told the owners that if I were to live there I would have to make a garden. The work of cleaning and maintenance would be partly paid in money and partly rental trade, but the garden, I said, I would do on my own time.

My first gardening project began even before we went back to Seattle.  (So, I can say I have been gardening on the Peninsula since 1992!)

first beach garden bed!

The owners ordered a pile of soil and I started several little gardens. We went home to Seattle after 3 and a half weeks, and came down for a long weekend at Thanksgiving bringing some plants and some of our possessions.

new gardens in progress at Thanksgiving

Thanskgiving weekend: low tide with foam

scenes like this entranced me

beachscape

the Seaview dunes, pristine and undeveloped

low tide beachcombing

sunset kite flyer

driftwood patterns

down to Beard’s Hollow

North Head and Fishing Rocks

In autumn, the paths through the dunes became still deep ponds and sloughs.

beachcombing: trash and treasures

We went back to Seattle to pack and face the sadness of leaving our housemate Wilum and my beloved Gramma’s house and garden. I was not planning to sell the house. Mary would move in with Wilum and pay a low rent, and I hoped we could live and work at the Sou’wester for years and still keep the Seattle house.

poignant evening photo in my living room (so much to pack!)

my china cabinet and cat Valene

I had a silly fantasy that maybe eventually Wilum would join us and take brooding, gothic walks along the beach.  A ridiculous idea, but I found it hard to part from our home.  My housecleaning clients of many years expressed sorrow at our departure.  One wept, and one said “It’s going to be along drive to clean my house every other week!”  Why I felt such a need for change could be explained by being sick of housecleaning (except I was going to even more cleaning!), being obsessed with the beach, needing a change after our miscarriage loss of ’92.  I had a very weird feeling on my block because someone who had broken my heart in 1987 had in moved five houses away (bothersome and strange!), the Sou’wester had completely entranced me, and I felt that the aging owners needed us to keep the place going.  Robert kept saying ominously that the Sou’wester job “sounds like a lot of work”, but he had often said he would rather live in a small town than the city.  So…for good reasons and bad, off we went into a new life.