Sailing in the San Juans

This past summer, my parents took me sailing in the San Juan Islands. I loved the roll of the sailing boat, and I enjoyed burrowing in Mom's windbreaker as the wind filled the sails.


My mom’s parents used to take the whole family sailing or canoeing. (Two adults and three kids in one canoe.) They also spent entire summers on one of the Gulf Islands in Canada (incorrectly known in America as the Canadian San Juans). Because they always had big doggies, they never thought much of dogs on boats. Can you picture a canoe trip with five humans and one big dog?

As a small dog, I'm totally portable and seaworthy as well. Mom didn't want me to miss out on sailing, so she decided she'd make an exception to the family's unwritten no-dogs-on-boats rule.

Plus, my dad had never been sailing. He’s been wanting to go to the San Juans for a long time, but Mom kept him waiting for the perfect opportunity: going there on a sailboat captained by her brother, who is a commercial fisherman in Alaska.

So off we went to the San Juan Islands with my mom, my dad, my uncle, my cousins (Mom's brother's sons), and a friend, too. I liked it a lot because I could feel the wind in my face. I saw several seals, and I didn’t bark at any of them, because that would be bad form.