West Seattle, Washington
About 1929

It was a warm, yet breezy spring day in the late 1920's. The wind was kicking up small waves on the beach, the tide was coming in, and the wind was blowing from the north.
      My brother and I were pre-teens, itching to "do something." However, we'd been left with the care of our 2½ year old sister while our mother had to go to work. The beach and the woods were our world of play. This area was the greenbelt behind what is now Me Kwa Mooks Park in West Seattle and the beach across the street from Beach Drive. We spent endless summer days exploring and trying to build rafts from driftwood and debris which, in those days, was washed up on the beaches quite regularly.
      It was the rule of the shore in those times that whatever washed up and wasn't marked or identifiable was the property of the finder. We had always wanted a boat of our own—just a rowboat. However, extra dollars were non-existent in the Depression, so we made do with rafts and logs, and envied neighbors who had boats they could row and pull up on their own beach across the drift logs.
      Our father had recently died, and we had been feeling bereft and lonely, when lo and behold, a storm washed a perfect klinker-built large rowboat upon our beach! It had no identification, and we knew all the boats for ½ mile on either side of the family property. This one was a stranger. Perhaps, we reasoned, it had blown across from Vashon Island or the mainland. We were sure that God had sent it to us. With some expert help, brother Frank installed a centerboard and acquired a mast so that it could be used as a sailboat. It took some doing plus the money we saved from paper routes (delivering the old Seattle Star all the way to Lincoln Park up and down steep walkways at the south terminus of our route). A sail, oars, and a rudder completed the boat, and we were eager to try it. Frank was sure we could handle the boat and baby sister, Madelyn, as well. We had been taught how to properly maneuver a boat; however, we had not been given permission to do so on this day.
      As kids who had much freedom (and many times, grown up responsibilities beyond our years), we charged ahead and got all our equipment together for the big adventure of going sailing. In our ignorance, neither little sister nor we had any fear. A buoy was anchored out beyond low tide. We launched the boat and pulled up the canvas sail, and with Frank at the tiller and me controlling the sail, we took off at a nice clip. Little sister was firmly ensconced in the little triangle of the bow of the boat. We sailed out quite far as I recall, and felt very proud when we were able to "come about" to the breeze and return to our moorings. It was getting to be lunch time. As we approached the buoy, Frank hollered for me to grab the buoy rope. As I leaned out to catch it, either a gust of wind or pilot error threw the sail in such a way that the boat capsized. Thank heavens for the centerboard—it only went half-way.
      I made a quick dive for little sister and grabbed her so her hair never even got wet. I propped her up on the half of the boat sill above water, and she was so surprised she never even cried. Frank was busy trying to rescue an oar and control the wet sail as the tide and wind sent us drifting toward Lincoln Park.
      After a short conference, we came up with a logical solution: I would stay with the ship and Madelyn. Frank would swim to shore to borrow a rowboat from a neighbor. Then he would come rescue us and pull the overturned boat home. It seemed like hours that Madelyn and I drifted in that overturned boat closer and closer toward Lincoln Park. I was hard-pressed to keep telling Madelyn stories to reassure her and keep her mind thinking of this as a great adventure.
      Eventually, our rescuer arrived and we did make it back home. We got dried and cleaned up before Mom returned home. She had enough to worry about without hearing of our escapade.
      I always thought that perhaps this adventure led Frank to his career in the Coast Guard!

(click on photo for larger version)