Independence Day Adventure

We've got a couple of go-to Independence Day activities, we will often either walk to Gasworks Park or, since getting Rock Lobster, anchor at Bainbridge Island to watch the fireworks display (there was also the year that we took Rock Lobster through the Ballard Locks to watch the Lake Union fireworks - never again! at least not in our boat...) This year at the last minute, we decided to try something a little different: watching the Seattle display from our inflatable kayaks.

After a day of puttering - coffee at Zoka, folding laundry, sweeping, reading and my requisite two Swahili lessons - we drove down to a launch in the University District a little after 5. We'd invited another friend along, but with as hot as it was, she wasn't motivated to get her kayak rack out of storage and kayak loaded (hers is not inflatable). We've now worked up a bit of a routine - Trent takes one pump to fill up the main bodies of the boats, while I take another to inflate the floors and other finishing touches.

With several hours left before the fireworks were due to start, we paddled to Ivar's Salmon House. While there was some outdoor seating, we decided to take refuge in the relative cool of the Whalemaker Lounge, where Happy Hour specials are in effect 3 p.m. to close. We relaxed over a blackened salmon Caesar salad, mussels, crab melt and fries and a couple of beers (note to self - next time skip the beer, as there are no facilities on a kayak). We chatted a bit with the table next to us, which was peopled with a group from Oklahoma City on their way to an Alaska cruise next week.

We left the restaurant at 8 to explore the shoreline for other potential launch points and to select our viewing position, as close to the fireworks barge as the police boat would allow. As we approached, a message rang out over the loudspeaker, ¨Okay, everyone is doing a good job of this so far, but remember to stay north of the buoy¨ and then later, ¨Bayliner, you're the only one south of the buoy. You need to move - they won't start the fireworks until everyone is behind the line¨. Fortunately, at that point there was still nearly an hour left to go.

As the time inched toward 10:15, space filled in with additional canoes, kayaks and motor boats, with the occasional stand-up paddleboard or sail boat thrown in. Every once in a while, our kayaks would begin to drift forward, so we'd paddle backwards a stroke or two.

Music from neighboring boats echoed on the water: Journey's Don't Stop Believin' (which inspired people from other boats to sing along, Clarence Carter's Strokin' and Poison by Bell Biv Devoe. As dusk finally fell and darkness crept in, the sounds of air horns and cheering from the other boats built in anticipation. Finally, we heard the roar of the Chinook helicopter flying the American flag.

The view could only have been more perfect if the police boat had been positioned a little to the left or right. I was also perhaps a bit more distracted than usual during the display itself - on alert for other boats, making sure I was ready to paddle if need be. Overall, it was a thrilling experience.

After the grand finale, we paddled closer to shore, with headlamps lighting the way and flashing bike lights attached to our PFDs, to avoid the mass exodus of larger watercraft. Homeward we stroked, past Ivar's, under the Ship Canal Bridge and the University Bridge, past the soggy hot dog buns we'd passed on the way there (¨if only I were a duck,¨ I quipped) and back to our launch spot, dock wobbling and swaying far more than during our departure.

We deflated, toweled of the drops of water and folded up the kayaks before driving home, collapsing into sleep shortly after arrival - exhausted, but content.