Let’s pretend there’s a nearly perfect world somewhere. A place where Mother Nature’s forces and cycles are revered, where learned skills, craftsmanship and artistry are the norm and are celebrated. A place where an eclectic mix of people gather—young and old—to share their ideas, talents, and stories—and somehow a general sense of camaraderie always prevails. Oh, and let’s make it scenic—a place where no matter which direction you turn, the mental picture is worthy of a postcard. Well, it so happens such a place really exists, but only for three days each year. It’s called the Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival, and it might be exactly what you need.
If all of this sounds hard to believe, I get it. I remember our first Festival, standing above the harbor admiring the scores of wooden boats—from strip-built canoes to historic tall ships. We could hear children laughing, flags fluttering, the creaking of boats pulling at docklines, and a boisterous sea shanty echoing in the distance. The sea breeze carried a pleasantly fragrant mix of sweet corn, food truck cuisine, pine tar, and varnish. It was like something from a daydream.
After pausing to take it all in for a moment, weset off to explore. The main attraction of course are the boats—lots and lots of wooden boats. There are sailboats, rowboats, paddle boats, and powerboats of all sizes and types. Some are restored classics, others are recent builds or modern designs—but in almost every case the owner or builder—or even designer—was aboard or nearby and happy to answer our questions and to share their knowledge. We were even offered a ride on one boat.
We found it challenging to get to every vessel that piqued our interest because each day at the Wooden Boat Festival also includes a packed schedule of demonstrations and seminars. Decisions had to be made—learn about stitch and glue construction techniques, or catch the talk by the world-famous adventurer and author? There really was no right answer, and sometimes we decided to divide and conquer and report back to each other what we’d learned.
We’d wondered about bringing the kids and whether their inevitable restlessness and tired legs would force us to retreat to our hotel early, but this wasn’t the case at all. On the contrary, between the pirate parade, kids’ boat building, the live stage performance, and the fish painting, they might have had more fun than anyone. But the real highlight for them was being able to get out on the water, exploring the Festival from the sea in little boats provided to kids for the purpose. It was something like Disneyland, except the food was better, boats weren’t on tracks, and we’re pretty sure some of the pirates were real.
If learning about boatbuilding, knot tying, and woodworking was good—actually doing it was even better. The Festival is designed to be a hands-on experience and I can say we actually learned new skills. If you don’t bring your own woodworking project home (I still proudly display my handmade cheese board) it’s probably only because you spent too much time at the Festival’s Bar Harbor dancing to the live music.
On Sunday, the final day, we raced around trying to tour boats we hadn’t yet crawled aboard, to visit with some new friends we’d made, and to catch one last seminar. The day seemed to fly by and before we knew it the harbor started emptying out as the countless boats in attendance began to hoist sails or ready engines for the traditional Sail By. The Sail By is a stunning spectacle, as the fleet of wooden vessels of all sizes tack back and forth along the waterfront to the sound of cheers and shutter clicks.
One of our only complaints about the Wooden Boat Festival is that you really can’t do it all in three days. Ultimately you’ll need to let go of some things you’d hoped you’d get to—but you’ll have done so much you won’t feel cheated. There’s always next year. Ultimately, the worst thing about the Wooden Boat Festival is simply having to transition back to real life when it ends.
(writer not pictured)