Day 298: Yesterday evening, Sound & Fury danced in performance at Seattle's Hiram M. Chittenden Locks, a site known to locals as the "Ballard Locks." This complex of locks allows ships passage from the salt waters of Puget Sound to Lake Union and Lake Washington. Salt water is prevented from intruding into the freshwaters of the two lakes by means of a dredged basin in which the heavier salt water settles and drains back into the Sound. According to official sources, the Ballard Locks see the most ship traffic of any lock in the United States. On the north side of the Locks, visitors may also stroll through the manicured grounds of Carl S. English Jr. Botanical Gardens, read about the project or shop at the visitor center, or on certain occasions, pause to enjoy the sight of Morris dancers clashing sticks and flagging handkerchiefs to the sound of bells.
I arrived early, having had some other business in Seattle, and took advantage of the time for photography and a little geocaching. As I walked across the foot-bridges spanning the locks, I recalled passing through them as a child in my father's little cabin cruiser. To a child of seven or eight years, the algae-coated concrete walls and looming machinery were somewhat intimidating, and the length of time it took for the water levels to be adjusted felt interminable. Even then, I wanted to be out on open water, angling for anything which would take a bait. For me, that usually meant a dogfish, Puget Sound's "mini-shark," even more frightening than the claustrophobic atmosphere of the locks. My dad would either gaff them and throw them back, or take the carcases home to plant under the fruit trees, a practice which he claimed prevented peach-leaf curl. On the other hand, my parents caught flounder, cod and (unintentionally) sea anemones and starfish, both of which intrigued me. Sometimes, we'd cross the sound and put into a small bay where the warmer water invited my folks to swim. I'd paddle around in the shallows wearing a life jacket, and on one memorable occasion, I panicked and had to be hoisted back into the boat when I saw a ray and thought it was pursuing me. The end of the day meant another tedious passage through the locks, one which usually found me sound asleep in the cabin, thoroughly worn out from the seafaring adventures headed up by the captain I adored.
