July, 2021
A few days ago, I explored Illahee State Park and the beach there. When researching how to drive to the state park, I noticed there was a small community named Illahee to the north of the state park. So today, late this afternoon, off I went on a drive to find that community and see what I could see.
The community was just about completely residential. I suspect it was named Illahee because its location has historic significance, but I couldn’t find very much information about it either online or while I was there today. I understand there are some historic buildings. But what really interested me was another glorious beach … and it was another glorious day! I drove to the beach quick as a bunny, parked the truck, and walked out to see the water. How divine.
Above, looking north, including a public boat ramp for small boats. Look how clear the water is here.
Below, looking south, including a private home … who wouldn’t want to live there!?
Below, looking east out along the pier, and then across the water to Bainbridge Island.
This was a much quieter pier and dock and beach than those at Illahee State Park. Fewer people, fewer boats, not much parking up on land. And yet, this dock was in better repair than the one the other day at the state park.
I found signs at the head of this dock that talked about the “mosquito fleet” that used the original 1916 dock here, long before the dock at the state park existed. Evidently this dock at the village of Illahee was one of the major stops for boats carrying passengers and freight and mail up and down Puget Sound, boats driven by steam engines. There were so many of the steam driven boats “back in the day”, back before there were airplanes, before there were roads … there were so many of these steam driven boats and ships that they seemed like mosquitos on the water and so the name “mosquito fleet” became popular back then and is still well known today even though almost all of those boats are long gone.
The boats burned wood (there was lots of wood here in the Pacific Northwest!). Burning wood then heated water, which turned to steam and powered the engine. It’s estimated there were as many as 1,000 of these vessels in their heyday.
Initially, people would row across the water, even as far as Bremerton or across Puget Sound to Seattle. It was the only way to get around. But the Mosquito Fleet saved the day for several decades. In the 1930’s, roads started being built. That eventually ended the romantic era when these ships plied the waters of our inland sea.
The dock at Illahee today is used mostly by the local folk … a little fishing, a little crabbing, getting the family together for a BBQ on the dock, visiting with neighbors, etc.
In the photo above, if you have really good eyes, you’ll see Mt. Rainier off on the right, way off in the distance. It’s a long way away isn’t it? Well, actually, it’s less than 64 miles away, as the crow flies. When that volcano blows again, the people at Illahee will have a front row seat for the show … unless of course the wind is blowing in this direction … yikes.
But for today, everyone here had a gorgeous view of one of the most magnificent mountains on earth.
After enjoying the beach and the water and the scenery, and a few chats with people, I decided to head back to my little white trailer. As I was walking along the pier, back towards land and back towards my truck, I heard a high-pitched call, not too loud, but definitely a sound I’ve come to know … an Eagle.
I stopped and looked, and looked, and turned and turned. Finally I saw her … sitting at the very top of a tree WAAAY over on Bainbridge Island. I zoomed in as best I could …
Do you see her? She’s not in very good focus. She’s on the right side of the tree in the lower part of the photo. Ah, now you see her! 🙂
Here’s a little better photo below. I snapped this photo exactly as she was again calling … more loudly this time.
And about 4 seconds later, another Eagle (probably her mate) was up in the air almost right above me, gliding and diving and spinning.
After 3 or 4 minutes, he took to a tree as well, over there on Bainbridge Island. I guess the fishing just wasn’t very good right then.
And then I did walk back up on land, jump in my big white truck, and head back to my boondocking spot in that quiet neighborhood in north Bremerton. This will be my last night here. Time to head home tomorrow.
Delightful!
Thank Henry. It was! 🙂
You always find eagles! How cool.
Or they find me, I’m never sure which. 🙂
What a great day, the mountain is so beautiful, and eagles too!
Yes, so much beauty, so amazing.
So, how do you know what an eagle’s call sounds like? How can we listen for it? How do we learn about it? Yes, you always find eagles, how do we do that too? You are the eagle whisperer for sure. 🙂
Ah, the call of an eagle. If you haven’t heard it, you might expect it to be a heavy call, low pitched, something that would knock your socks off. But it’s a high pitched kind of whistle or squeaky sound, for the most part. Search on YouTube for “Eagle Going Chirp” by Namu Griff for one example. When I’ve heard eagles call, it has never been very loud.
As to your question, Ben, about how I find eagles … I don’t know. I guess I stand around a lot at the edge of waterways and forests, which is where eagles often perch in trees … I stand around and spend a good deal of time simply looking. Initially, I’m just enjoying my surroundings, but eventually I almost always find something interesting, like an eagle, or two. 🙂
I want to live in that house on the beach! With a deck right out/on/over the water. What a beautiful world.
Oh I’d love to live there too, what a gorgeous view from just about every room in the house.
What a great day and a great beach and beautiful eagles and people. The water is so calm! Thanks for sharing.
It’s so protected here that, even though this is saltwater from the ocean, still it is usually calm like this. If there’s a big wind, then small waves can happen but this is a very protected part of Puget Sound, and yes it sure is beautiful.
Eagles must talk with each other right? I’d bet they’ve shared stories with each other of the woman with the camera and the big white truck, and they’ve come to trust you. They know a kindred soul.
Oh yes! What a great thought, Susan. How nice. Thank you. 🙂