By mid-summer Heather had a good job and her own apartment and had settled down but then Holly needed our help. At the last minute we got her enrolled in my old school, Columbia Christian College (Cascade), in Portland. That called for another trip North to Center Island.

By Wednesday morning it was time to head north. “Let’s put in at Coronet Bay and go out through Deception Pass,” Paul suggested. Deception Pass! Visions of the terror I witnessed thirty-five years ago flashed before my eyes. Piper caught in a whirlpool. Piper smashed on the rocks as we clawed our way up the cliffs clinging by our fingernails.

“Hmm, why don’t we try a smaller ramp in Anacortes for the first launching Paul?” I suspected he was trying to get even with me for the bandages on his fingertips.

Alas, when we arrived at the Twin Bridges ramp, the water was too low and the current in the river was too swift. I think Paul was smirking when he suggested again, “Coronet Bay has a great ramp.” Deception Pass it would be.

Generous applications of staring fluid coaxed Piper into life. The last of the supplies were loaded. Holly and Jan were aboard. We cast off the lines and backed out. Paul’s boat roared out neatly into the channel. He looked so confident as I tried to follow him. He stood behind the wheel steering with one hand, adjusting a line with the other and talking with Bernie. Just another day on the water for the Browers.

I gripped the wheel hard. Everything seemed wrong. Piper’s stern was so low in the water. Her bow seemed pointed straight up in the air. Giant waves broke left and right as our wake threatened to upend everything in the bay. We rounded an island and there it was: Deception Pass. The bridge spanned the canyon high overhead. Teenage memories flooded back. I tried to ignore them but I could see white water and swirling whirlpools ahead. We were going to die!

Meanwhile Paul’s little boat skimmed nimbly across the water. He danced right and then left and then right again. It was so graceful. Bernie waved. I pushed the throttle to the stop. Piper shivered as we passed 4,000 RPM. What was I doing in a powerboat? I’m a sailor! Where is my jib? Where are my sheets? Where can I find a clean pair of pants? And then it was over. Rosario Strait opened up in front of us. The sun came out. The gentle waves lapped at our hull. Holly spotted a whale.

I looked back over my shoulder at the dark, foreboding walls of Deception Pass and the bridge high above. If I squinted I could just make out a pimply-faced teenager looking over the rail thirty-five years ago. He was waving and shouting, “I knew you could do it!”

Jan looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “What are you grinning about?” I winked and eased back on the throttle. Sometimes the best way to handle our fears is to meet them head on and full-speed ahead.