Astoria, Oregon
Sometime in the wee hours this morning, we crossed the perilous Columbia River Bar. Moonlight streamed across the water illuminating ghostly forms of avian creatures hunting by night. A beacon shone its rhythmic patterns warning of the rocky cliffs at Cape Disappointment. Our entry was timed for the slackening of the tides. Barely a ripple rocked our vessel, the passage smooth and gentle and most slept on unaware of the milestone gained. One of the most dangerous bodies of water in the world seemed as benevolent and calm as a protected mountain pool. But such is not always the case. Many ships have plunged to the depths and many a soul has lost his life when the sleeping lion awoke. When the winds whipped the waves into towering frost-covered peaks, deep dark valley holes swallowed sail or motor vessel alike.
Only a skeleton remains on a smooth hard-packed beach, the wreck of the Peter Iredale. Fragments of blue sky are framed by its bones, their shadow a mosaic in the dark sand. Only twice in every twenty-four hours, with the rising of the tide, does the water swirl around its hull, a reminder of the day when she ran aground in 1906. Her Captain ordered all sails set as they passed the Tillamook Light. Daylight would bring a pilot aboard to guide them into the Columbia’s mouth. But the wind picked up, the currents were strong and the breakers snatched her away. All hands survived. Today we strolled on the shores where she rests while bathers gleeful splashed and children built castles in the sand.
Not far away, on the northern shore of this mighty river, a brave band of men and women train to save the lives of those whom the seas will attempt to claim. We tasted the danger of their jobs at the Columbia River Maritime Museum where a former Coast Guard rescue vessel is part of a realistic display. Here one could look back at the past when wind was the powering energy source or put oneself into the role of a submarine commander or a fisherman of today.
As the sun edged towards the horizon, we ventured out towards the bar once again. Hundreds of birds worked the surface of the sea and pelicans dove from on high as a freshening wind kicked whitecaps around. We turned and headed upstream, to follow the river towards another day.
