The Bremerton Ferry

Every weekend, I take the Bremerton ferry to get across the Puget Sound towards Port Orchard, where Kelly lives. For the first half of the voyage, the boat blasts across the Sound, all engines running, making most of the ground (water) in about half an hour. For the second half, as it enters the coastal inlet where Bremerton resides, it slows to a leisurely crawl. While the reason annoys me; wealthy locals whining about the ferry's wake washing onto their manicured shoreside yards, I quite appreciate this decrease in pace. I stand at the prow of the ship, letting the breeze rustle my hair as I gaze at warmly lit coastal homes, brightening the dimming twilight. If I catch the earlier ferry, I can even witness the sun setting behind the distant Olympics.

Two weeks ago, I took the ferry on the return trip as well. Kelly had to wake up at 4 am to drive me there, so I could catch the 4:50 A.M. ferry. I had to change for work on the ferry, since I had no time before leaving. The vessel was packed with sleeping commuters, looking to catch an extra hour of rest before work. It was a truly other-worldly experience.

Sleeping travelers