Bellingham Tug and Barge, including tug TYEE
Standing by at home port of Bellingham, WA.
What a mysteriously fascinating place is the waterfront at night! Lights twinkling on the wet blackness. Invisible men shouting, weird whistles going, shadowy figures moving about on the decks of boats, cigarettes blinking trains ringing bells up on the railroad tracks nearby.
“All ready, Cap’n,” a voice calls out. A signal is given. The little tug Ketchikan comes alongside, throws us a line, pulls our nose slowly around as if we were a stubborn old bull, heads us down-bay and we are off. It is 6 o’clock, Tuesday night, as we leave Citizen’s dock.
I am standing in the pilot house of the big tug TYEE, bound for Clallam Bay, which is away out yonder nearly to Cape Flattery, on the Olympic peninsula. Two hours ago I hadn’t the least notion that I’d be riding the swells of Fuca tonight, but Mr. Donovan said I might get to Clallam Bay by way of one of Mr. Barney Jones’ tugboats, and Mr. Barney Jones* said that the TYEE was leaving tonight at 6 o’clock and Mr. Bert Butts, captain of the TYEE, said I might come along and so here I am.
We’ll stop down here and pick up a tow, the captain says, “see that red light over there? It is a storm warning. We’ll likely have it rough in the Straits.” But I don’t mind, do you? I love to feel the waves or two come prancing across the bow. Nothing is finer than a well behaved storm on a staunch small boat.
Read the full post on Saltwater People Log.
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