On staring out to sea

Hello Everyone,

I took the ferry back to Vancouver the other day, and just as we had done before, Arthur and I made our way to the pet area as voyage began. It was a different ship this time, and the new pet area was larger and more comfortable. A ferry employee also told us that we were allowed to get up and walk around that deck of the ship. As a side note, I have to say that I'm impressed with the efficiency of the crew. We got there just before the ship was scheduled to leave, and still made it on without issue.

About half way through the crossing, Arthur and I got up to walk around. It was a beautiful day, and there are some gorgeous views to be had. We could see Vancouver from the bow of the ship and Salt Spring Island from the rear, or "caboose" as they call it in maritime language.

The deck is mostly open, so we stopped in a shaded spot that afforded a view of what I believe are the Olympic mountains in Washington state. I stood there for quite awhile, the ocean and mountains both given to inducing a contemplative state. I reflected on a variety of things, but then stopped to look down at what my travelling companion thought of it all.

Maybe he was thinking about how far we have come, and the many things we have seen? Or perhaps about the oddity that we were able to cross a great watery channel in this hulking beast of a ship? Maybe he was thinking about home and when we might get back?

Nope, he was asleep on the deck. If anything, he was dreaming about chasing squirrels.

I realized that my deep contemplation was a fairly self-centred view. Arthur lacks the eyesight to see the mountains in the distance. The ocean is a big body of water that he can't drink. The ship is an odd, rumbling container, where we have to stay in a small box.

When I think about it, I'd do what he did in that situation. I'd take a nap too.

wes