Sea Lions & Harbor Seals of the Salish Sea

Whiskers in the Green

Story & Pictures | Thom Robbins

There are dives where the water gives you exactly what you came for. You drop into Hood Canal with a camera and find plumose anemones blooming from pilings like pale chandeliers. You descend at Sund Rock hoping for wolf eels and get lucky enough to find one peering from its den, green eyes steady as old glass. You head north toward the San Juan Islands and drift past walls dressed in kelp, watching rockfish hold themselves in a current stronger than it looks – Then there are dives where the water decides otherwise.

I had my camera aimed at a sculpin no longer than my thumb, trying to frame the shot before it bolted. I felt a light tug on my fin. Not hard, just enough to make me turn. Behind me hovered a young sea lion, suspended in the green water like a dog that had just stolen a sock. It let go, rolled once, then blasted away in a trail of bubbles before circling back to see if I had learned the rules.

Another time, I was focused on a nudibranch inching across a piling when I sensed movement beside my mask. A harbor seal had drifted in so quietly it seemed to arrive fully formed. It hovered over my shoulder, staring at the same sea slug I was photographing as if it had concerns about my composition.

That is part of the magic. Sea lions and harbor seals often feel less like wildlife you happen to encounter and more like curious neighbors checking in on what you are doing.

For many people, above the surface, sea lions and seals blur together. Both are sleek marine mammals with whiskered faces, dark eyes, and the unnerving ability to look adorable and deeply competent at the same time. Both haul out on rocks, beaches, docks, and floating logs around the Salish Sea. Both vanish into the water with enviable grace. But spend any real time with them, especially underwater, and their differences become obvious.

They are among the most charismatic animals in Pacific Northwest waters, and they know it, playful, intelligent, and efficient predators closely tied to the health of this inland sea. When one appears on a dive, the whole mood lifts.

The easiest way to tell them apart begins with the ears.

Sea lions have visible external ear flaps. Harbor seals do not. If you can clearly see little ears on the side of the head, chances are you are looking at a sea lion. If the head appears smoother and rounder, you are likely looking at a harbor seal.

That is the quick version. The better version comes with watching.

Sea lions are built for swagger and noise. Longer, louder, and more theatrical, they carry themselves like animals aware of their own presence. In the Salish Sea, the two species most people encounter are California sea lions and Steller sea lions. California sea lions are the familiar barkers of docks and buoys, energetic, vocal, and often piled on top of one another in noisy heaps. Steller sea lions are larger, heavier, and impressive enough that the first one you see underwater can feel less like wildlife and more like weather moving toward you.

Sea lions belong to the eared seal family and use their large front flippers almost like wings. They can rotate their rear flippers beneath them, allowing them to move on land with surprising confidence. On haul-outs, they bark, posture, shove, and argue like a committee meeting with no chairperson.

In the water, all of that bulk becomes grace. They become pure athletes. They bank, roll, accelerate, stop, and reverse direction with the kind of ease that makes a diver feel assembled from spare parts. I have watched sea lions streak past so close I could see old scars across their hides, whiskers swept back flat against their faces. Then, with one effortless turn, they were gone.

Young sea lions are often the comedians. They blow bubbles in your face, dart in close only to veer away at the last second, grab at loose fins, hoses, or hoods, and return repeatedly to see whether you have become more entertaining since the last pass. They remind you that intelligence and mischief often travel together.

Harbor seals move through the world differently. They are smaller, rounder, and quieter, with large dark eyes and faces that can look permanently thoughtful. On land, they move with a soft-bodied undulation, unable to rotate their rear flippers beneath them as sea lions do. In the water, however, they become sleek and efficient, propelled by smooth movements of the hind body and rear flippers.

Where sea lions often announce themselves, harbor seals simply appear.

You scan the water column, and suddenly one is there, suspended just beyond your bubbles, watching with calm interest. Then another. Then emptiness again.

They move with a composed self-possession, less interested in spectacle than observation. If sea lions are the extroverts of the pinniped world, harbor seals are the thoughtful introverts who miss nothing.

Color can help, though nature loves exceptions. Harbor seals often wear mottled coats in shades of gray, silver, tan, or brown, marked with spots or rings. Sea lions tend to be more uniformly colored, usually darker brown to tan, with smoother-looking coats.

Behavior is often the fastest clue. Sea lions are more likely to race in, circle, blow bubbles, tug at fins, and treat a diver like an unexpected toy. Harbor seals are more likely to hover nearby, inspect you carefully, and drift close enough to make eye contact before slipping away.

Both reward patience. Neither should be chased. The best encounters happen when you stay calm and let them decide the distance.

For all their playfulness, both live demanding lives shaped by weather, tides, predators, and the constant need to eat enough in cold water.

Harbor seals are year-round residents throughout much of the Salish Sea. They haul out on beaches, mudflats, rocks, floating logs, and quiet shorelines to rest, molt, warm themselves, and give birth. Their pups enter a world that expects competence from an early age. Many can swim within hours of birth, though they still rely heavily on their mothers for milk, protection, and guidance. In the wild, harbor seals can live 25 to 30 years, long enough to know these shorelines well.

A mother harbor seal with a pup is one of the more memorable sights these waters offer. The pup stays close, surfacing beside her, learning quickly in a place where hesitation can be expensive. Bald eagles, currents, storms, disturbance, and predators do not grant many second chances.

Sea lions use the Salish Sea somewhat differently depending on species and season. California sea lions are often seasonal visitors, especially males that move north after breeding farther south. Steller sea lions maintain a broader regional presence and use haul-out sites to rest between feeding trips. Their rookeries, where breeding occurs, are generally outside the central Salish Sea, but individuals are common enough visitors that they feel like part of the neighborhood. Sea lions can live 20 to 30 years, when the ocean allows it.

Young sea lions seem born with mischief already installed. Juveniles are often the ones most interested in divers, boats, docks, and anything unfamiliar. Curiosity likely helps them develop the speed, coordination, and confidence they will need as adult hunters.

Both sea lions and harbor seals feed primarily on fish and squid, taking advantage of whatever is seasonally abundant. Herring, salmon, smelt, sand lance, and other small fish that travel in schools make up much of their diet.

A healthy prey base supports not just seals and sea lions, but seabirds, larger fish, whales, and the broader ecosystem around them.

Watching one hunt underwater changes how you think of them. The softness many people notice from shore gives way to speed, precision, and purpose. A harbor seal that looked sleepy on a log can turn into a torpedo the moment fish appear, reaching speeds of around 15 miles per hour in a burst. A sea lion that spent the morning barking on a buoy can cut through a bait ball with athletic brutality, capable of pushing closer to 25 miles per hour when it decides to move.

They are not pets of the sea. They are predators built by cold water and hunger.

They are also exquisitely adapted to the environment. A thick layer of blubber insulates them from temperatures that send divers scrambling for dry gloves and thicker undergarments. Their blood carries oxygen efficiently. During dives, heart rates can slow, and blood flow can be prioritized to essential organs. Harbor seals can remain underwater for 20 to 30 minutes, sea lions closer to 10 to 15. By the time you start wondering where they went, they are already behind you again.

Even their whiskers are remarkable. Those stiff facial whiskers, called vibrissae, help detect movement and turbulence in the water. In simple terms, they can help read the traces left behind by prey. Long after a fish has passed, the water may still be telling on it.

Spend enough time diving here, and you begin to recognize personalities.

There was a harbor seal at Sund Rock last year that would appear near the safety stop almost every few dives, never close enough to touch, always close enough to study. It seemed to favor staying just outside arm’s reach, rotating slowly to keep one eye on me.

If I looked away, it drifted closer. If I looked back too quickly, it retreated a few feet. We repeated this silent negotiation several times over the season. A juvenile sea lion in the San Juans once became fascinated with the reflection in my dome port. It rammed the water in front of it repeatedly, then barked underwater, a strange muffled burst that vibrated more than sounded. When that failed to solve whatever problem it had with its own reflection, it sped off and returned with two companions, as though expert consultation was required.

Moments like that are funny, but they also reveal something deeper. These are social, aware, inquisitive animals navigating complicated worlds.

In the ocean, relationships are rarely simple. Sea lions and harbor seals are loved by people who watch them from beaches, ferries, marinas, kayaks, and shorelines. A whiskered face rising beside a boat can improve a day in seconds. Tourists point. Locals smile despite themselves. Children lose all composure.

To divers, they can feel like temporary companions. I have had harbor seals mirror my movements for minutes at a time. I have had sea lions thread themselves through my exhaled bubbles as if I were some new underwater fountain installed for their amusement. I have had one repeatedly swim behind me and look over my shoulder every time I tried to photograph something on the reef, apparently determined to supervise.

But friendship, in the human sense, is not really the point. Curiosity is. These animals investigate their world constantly, and sometimes we happen to be in it.

Their enemies are more serious. Bigg’s killer whales, the mammal-hunting orca often seen in the Salish Sea, prey on seals, sea lions, and other marine mammals. When they are nearby, haul-outs can empty quickly, and behavior can change in an instant. What looked lazy a moment ago becomes alertness distilled.

Large sharks are less common here than in some coastal regions, but remain part of the broader marine story. Disease, storms, and scarcity also take their toll.

Human impacts are often the more persistent challenge. Entanglement in fishing gear, marine debris, vessel disturbance, pollution, shoreline development, and depleted prey stocks can all affect populations. Even well-meaning people can cause stress by crowding haul-outs, separating mothers and pups, or forcing animals into the water.

The best wildlife viewing leaves wildlife unbothered. Give hauled-out animals space. Keep dogs back. Use binoculars instead of footsteps. On the water, slow down when needed and avoid forcing animals to react to your presence. Underwater, never corner or pursue them.

If they want to meet you, they will make that clear quickly. And when they do, it is hard to forget. There are flashier creatures in the Salish Sea. Giant Pacific octopus carry myth with them.

Wolf eels look imagined. Nudibranchs seem painted by someone unwilling to choose only one color.

Salmon carry the weight of economies and cultures. Orca arrive with instant gravity. But sea lions and harbor seals possess something rarer: personality visible at a glance.

You see it in the harbor seal hovering inches away, whiskers forward, deciding what to make of you. You see it in the sea lion that rockets in from nowhere, steals a playful tug at your fin, and vanishes before you can laugh into your regulator.

You see it in the animal that watches you watch the sea.

For those of us lucky enough to dive here, they become part of the rhythm of these waters. Never guaranteed, never scheduled, always hoped for. Every diver knows the feeling of surfacing after one of those encounters.

You climb back onto shore or boat, smiling harder than the conditions deserved. The water may have been cold, the visibility poor, the current annoying, the camera stubborn.

None of that matters now.  Because for a few minutes, something wild invited you into its day. And in the green waters of the Salish Sea, that remains one of its finest gifts.

Thom Robbins is a seasoned diver, underwater photographer, and author with a deep passion for the Pacific Northwest and its marine life. With over thirty years of diving experience, Thom has spent countless hours beneath the surface, documenting the mysterious beauty of wolf eels, octopuses, and nudibranchs as well as seals and sealions. His underwater videos and photographs bring the hidden world of the Salish Sea to life, captivating both online and print audiences. He is a regular contributor to the Fjord.

FJORDIN CROSSIN | JUNE 13

Fjordin Crossin embraces an old world Scandinavian tradition of the spirit “aquavit”, with a series of unique events at the beach in Hoodsport, WA – a nordic parade, a barrel crossing, a family-friendly paddle race, drinks, vendors and food and, after the tide pushes the celebration back to the shore, the after-party continues on the streets of Hoodsport.

When explorer George Vancouver charted the area in 1792, he mistakenly labeled it a canal. What he had actually encountered was something far rarer: the only true fjord in the contiguous United States. Carved by glaciers thousands of years ago, Hood Canal plunges to depths exceeding 600' in places, its steep forested walls and saltwater currents giving it the same geological features as the famed fjords of Norway and Alaska.

And every summer, the waterfront town of Hoodsport leans into Nordic connection with one of the Pacific Northwest’s most delightfully eccentric celebrations: Fjordin Crossin.

Part kayak festival, part Scandinavian homage, and part small-town beach party, the event has evolved into a beloved tradition where aquavit barrels sail across the fjord, paddlers skim over cold saltwater, and accordion music drifts through town alongside the scent of grilling oysters.

At the center of it all is The Hardware Distillery, the craft distillery founded by Jan and Chuck Morris. Over the lat two decades the distillery has become known for its small-batch spirits crafted with Washington-grown ingredients and glacier-fed water flowing from the nearby Olympic Mountains.

background

Seven years ago, inspired by the centuries-old Scandinavian tradition of Linie aquavit — a spirit historically aged during long sea voyages —  Chuck and Jan decided Hood Canal deserved its own version of the ritual. In Norway, barrels of aquavit famously cross the equator and return transformed by months of rolling ocean travel. In Hoodsport, the journey is shorter but no less spirited: a barrel of dill aquavit is ceremoniously launched across Hood Canal from Hoodsport toward Tahuya and back again. What began as a playful nod to Nordic heritage has grown into one of the canal’s signature summer gatherings.Today, Fjordin Crossin transforms Hoodsport’s marina waterfront park into a lively festival layered with Scandinavian flair and Northwest charm.

The centerpiece is the Paddle the Canal Challenge, hosted by Hood Canal Events, where kayakers, paddleboarders, canoes, and small sailboats follow the aquavit barrel across the fjord in a colorful flotilla of non-motorized craft. Some competitors arrive in sleek touring kayaks; others paddle in costume, leaning fully into the event’s Viking spirit.

Participants can bring their own boats or rent kayaks from local outfitter Hood Canal Adventures right at the beach. This year’s timed paddle includes a knit cap for racers, with reasonable early-bird registration rates for families and casual adventurers alike.

But Fjordin Crossin is as much about gathering on shore as it is crossing the water. By late morning, the marina fills with local artisans, oyster vendors, craft booths, and families wandering between beach games and live music. A walking parade heralds the beginning of the ceremonies as fiddlers, accordion players, and participants dressed in Scandinavian attire escort the barrel toward the dock.

the launch

As the barrel begins its symbolic voyage across Hood Canal, spectators line the waterfront cheering paddlers into the water. Nearby, the Aquavit Garden pours cocktails featuring herbaceous aquavit, local wines, and craft beer. The salty air smells faintly of smoked seafood, evergreen forests, and citrus peels crushed into summer drinks.

after-Tide gathering

Eventually, as the tide come in, the celebration shifts inland. The party migrates naturally into Hoodsport where tasting rooms, galleries, breweries, and restaurants keep festivities rolling into the evening. The festival carries the easy authenticity of a community celebrating the place it loves most — equal parts quirky, maritime, and deeply rooted in local identity. And while the aquavit barrel may be symbolic, the pride behind it is not.

For one weekend each year, Hood Canal embraces its identity as America’s hidden fjord — a place where Nordic traditions feel surprisingly at home beneath Douglas firs. In Hoodsport, Fjordin Crossin isn’t simply a festival. It’s a love letter to the fjord itself.

Wild Coastal Cuisine from the Edge of the Pacific Northwest

Artist feature: Daniel Ferreira, Cooking Around the Sound

Cooking Around the Sound is a visceral celebration of the Pacific Northwest, bringing elevated, regionally-inspired cuisine to the rugged fringes of the Washington coast. Led by creator/chef Daniel, each dish is a tribute to the landscape, crafted on driftwood-strewn beaches and islands accessible only by kayak. From the mist-covered shores of the Hood Canal to the hidden inlets of the Puget Sound, the channel highlights the raw connection between the elements and the plate, featuring local treasures like Dungeness crab, Pacific oysters, and Beecher’s Handmade Cheese.

The experience is defined by a high energy, fast-paced aesthetic that trades dialogue for the rhythmic, mechanical sounds of the craft—the heavy clink of a skillet, the hiss of a searing pan, and the steady pull of the tide. Every shoot captures the grit of the Pacific Northwest, showcasing technical skill and the authentic beauty of preparing meals in the wild.

With the channel’s iconic mascots, Captain Pepper and Old Salty, standing watch over every meal, Cooking Around the Sound offers a gritty, authentic, and visually stunning look at the spirit of Pacific Northwest coastal cooking.

Smoked Wild Sockeye Salmon Dip

This recipe brings the bold, smoky flavors of the Pacific Northwest directly to your bowl. Perfectly balanced with a hint of citrus and the bite of fresh herbs, it’s a rugged yet refined dip designed to be prepared—and enjoyed—wherever your kayak takes you.

• 1 package (4oz) Smoked Wild Sockeye Salmon
• 1 block (8oz) Tillamook Cream Cheese
• 1/2 cup Tillamook Cultured Sour Cream
• 1/4 Red Onion, finely diced
• 2 tbsp Capers, drained
• 1 tbsp Fresh Dill, chopped
• 1 tbsp Fresh Chives, finely minced
• 1/2 Lemon, freshly squeezed
• To taste: Black Pepper (from Captain Pepper)
• For serving: Saltine or buttery crackers

Build the Base: In a mixing bowl, combine the cream cheese and sour cream. Fold them together until smooth and velvety. Prepare the Salmon: Gently break the smoked sockeye salmon into bite-sized flakes and add them to the base.
The Aromatics: Add the finely diced red onion, capers, fresh dill, and minced chives. These provide the color and sharp, herbal brightness that cut through the richness of the salmon. Season & Brighten: Squeeze in the fresh lemon juice and add a generous crack of black pepper. The Fold: Gently fold all ingredients together until well-incorporated, ensuring the salmon stays in distinct, flavorful pieces.
Serve: Transfer the dip to a bowl, garnish with extra chives and dill, and serve with plenty of crisp crackers.

Chef’s Note: This dip is best enjoyed on a driftwood strewn beach with the sound of the tide in the background.

Follow the journey: Instagram & TikTok @cookingaroundthesound.

Bluegrass from the Forest celebrates 21 years!

Florida-based Remedy Tree brings an Americana sound rooted in bluegrass, indie folk, and Appalachian old-time traditzions.

Bluegrass From the Forest returns for its 21st year this  summer, bringing another long weekend of high-lonesome harmonies,  campground picking circles, late-night jams, and community celebration to Shelton’s South Mason Youth Soccer Park. What began as a grassroots gathering has become one of the Pacific Northwest’s most beloved bluegrass traditions — equal parts music festival, family reunion, and all-night jam session beneath the fir trees.

Powered entirely by volunteers, the festival raises funds for the philanthropic efforts of Kristmas Town Kiwanis while drawing musicians and fans from across the country to the Hood Canal region. Alongside nationally touring acts, the festival continues its tradition of spotlighting Northwest talent, hands-on workshops, youth programs, open mics, and impromptu collaborations that often become the heart of the weekend.

The 2026 lineup promises a rich mix of tradition and forward-thinking string music. Florida-based Remedy Tree brings an Americana sound rooted in bluegrass, indie folk, and Appalachian old-time traditzions. Founded by husband-and-wife duo Gabriel and Abigail Acevedo, the band has evolved into one of the more distinctive young voices in modern bluegrass. Gabriel’s Puerto Rican heritage and rural Florida upbringing lend the music an outsider’s perspective, while Abigail’s roots in folk and old-time circles anchor the band in tradition. Together with Isaac Taylor and Nathan Beaumont, Remedy Tree delivers emotionally rich songwriting, driving instrumentation, and a fresh vision for where bluegrass can go next.

From North Carolina, Unspoken Tradition channels the spirit of Appalachian storytelling through hard-driving newgrass energy and deeply felt harmonies. Their sound balances nostalgia and momentum, blending reverence for traditional roots music with a contemporary edge that has made them a standout on the national bluegrass scene.

Unspoken Tradition sound balances nostalgia and momentum, blending reverence for traditional roots music with a contemporary edge.

Representing the South Puget Sound and Hood Canal region, Union City Council Band draws from old-time mountain music, blues, jazz, gospel, and folk traditions to create a lively, high-energy bluegrass experience. Featuring Guy Demartino, Greg Linder, Donald Strand, Martin Strand, and Gwendolyn Taylor, the quintet combines virtuosic instrumentation with rich vocal harmonies and a deep appreciation for traditional forms.

Seattle-based Hemlock Revival arrives as one of the Pacific Northwest’s most exciting emerging bluegrass acts. Formed through late-night jam sessions among friends, the six-piece group blends progressive influences from bands like Mighty Poplar and East Nash Grass with the timeless drive of classic bluegrass pioneers. Their dynamic performances and mountain-high harmonies have already earned attention at venues across the region, including Wintergrass showcases.

Like strong traditional bluegrass with an edge to it? Then you'll like Runaway Train Bluegrass! This band is known for tight harmonies and clean pickin'. A Pacific Northwest mainstay, they are the host band for Bluegrass from the Forest festival and they also play an important role in helping to get the festival going every year.

The Host Band for the Saturday Night Country Dance, The Bar-K Buckaroos play traditional western swing dance music in the style of Bob Wills and his Texas Playboys. They bring their love of Bluegrass, Country and Swing, Jazz, Blues and Raggae' to form a great evening of western swing and 20-40's era swing music.

Beyond the performances, Bluegrass From the Forest remains deeply rooted in participation and community. The Chick Rose School of Bluegrass returns Saturday morning with an intensive youth workshop led by Stacey Harnew, Jered Wildman, and crew. Designed for kids eager to learn bluegrass music in a supportive setting, the program has become one of the festival’s most cherished traditions.

The popular Band Scramble returns Saturday afternoon, giving attendees the chance to sign up, form impromptu bands, and perform together after just 30 minutes of rehearsal time — often resulting in some of the festival’s most memorable moments. And for those inspired by the campground jams and collaborative spirit of the weekend, the Open Mic offers a welcoming stage for original songs, spontaneous arrangements, and shared musical discoveries.

More than two decades in, Bluegrass From the Forest continues to embody what makes roots music festivals special: world-class musicianship paired with generosity, spontaneity, and a deep sense of belonging. Whether you come for the headline acts, the late-night picking circles, the kids’ programs, or simply the feeling of hearing banjos echo through the trees, the festival remains one of the Pacific Northwest’s most heartfelt summer traditions.

For additional details on band bios, ticket and camping reservations, visit bluegrassfromtheforest.com.

Early Bird ticket pricing is available until June 20.

Crossing the Bar - McMicken Island

Craig Romano | Story & images

There are no bridges or causeways to little McMicken Island in Case Inlet. No ferry service either. But you don’t need a kayak or boat to visit. You can easily hike to this island which lies about 0.2 mile off of the eastern shore of Harstine Island. It’s all in the timing. 

When the tide is low, a tombolo (a sandbar connecting the island to the mainland—or in this case another island) is exposed allowing you dry foot access to the island. You then can hike the island’s small half mile trail, picnic in its small meadow, or explore big barnacle-encrusted rocks in its intertidal zone. Just mind the incoming tide lest you make a big splash on your island exodus.

Hit the Trail

The hike to little 11.5 acre McMicken Island begins from the 300-acre Harstine Island State Park. A former Washington DNR property, most of the old timber was logged off, but small groves of old-growth remains on the property.

You want to head to the park’s beach reachable by the two trails taking off south from the parking lot. Take the one on the eastern end of the lot (away from the kiosk) for the more direct route.

The trail heads towards Case Inlet soon reaching the edge of a 100 foot high forested bluff. Continue along the bluff taking in glimpses of the remote beach below. The way then descends into a cool and dark ravine graced with big cedars and firs and reaches a junction.

The trail to the right loops back to the other main trail leaving the parking lot. Consider taking it upon your return from McMicken Island.

Head left through a row of big cedars and via a series of steps descend deeper into the ravine. After crossing a little creek the way emerges on a deserted beach. Look directly across Case Inlet to Herron Island and the Key Peninsula. Then look south and spot McMicken Island set against a backdrop of big beautiful Mount Rainier. If the tide is high, you’ll have to wait to hike the beach as overhanging trees prohibit passage. But in a low tide, a big wide easy to walk beach awaits your footprints.

Walk for more than a mile undulating between cobbles, mud and sand. Watch for sand dollars scatted across the tide flats. Look too for eagles, herons and a myriad of seabirds. Harstine is a wet place and plenty of side creeks fan out on the beach. You should be able to keep your shoes dry, but a pair of waterproof boots is not a bad idea. The entire way to the tombolo is on public tidelands. But there is a parcel of private property located between two large state park properties abutting the shoreline. Respect posted private property.

The tombolo is pretty distinctive in low tides—fairly wide and several feet raised above inlet waters. In high tides it’s completely submerged, although breakers will help you locate its position. It’s really fun to hike it when a receding tide first reveals it. Tap your inner Moses and part the seas watching the land bridge emerge as you amble along it.

Reaching the island

Once across the .2 mile sandy strip, reach McMicken Island. All of the little island except for a small fenced parcel with a couple of cabins is state park property. The private holding belongs to the family that once owned the entire island. They sold the island to the state withholding this small lot. Please keep out of it. The rest of the island however you are free to explore.

At the island’s western end is a small picnic area in a grassy opening. Here find some rare Garry oaks growing on a low bluff above the surf. Near a composting toilet at the eastern edge of the field is a small nature trail. Hike it! It weaves a half mile through towering firs and madronas to blufftop views on the eastern end of the island.

Be sure to explore the rocky tide flats surrounding the island too, and check out the large erratics scattered about. There is a particularly large one on the south side of the island. Enjoy your island wanderings and explorations—more than likely sharing it with no more than just a couple of other happy hikers. And be sure to keep track of the time and incoming tide so you don’t get trapped on the island.

Places to Stay
Waterfront cabin located on Harstine Is with beach access and a panoramic view of the Puget Sound, Mt. Rainier and McMicken island. Check availability

Hike back to Harstine Island State Park and call it a day or consider walking some more. The park contains three miles of trails. They traverse thick fir forests and swampy cedar groves and are family and dog-friendly.

McMicken Island Notes:

Forest Setting with Beach Access
Cross the bridge to Harstine Is. and enjoy a beautiful and quiet retreat in the woods. Relax in the comfortably furnished cabin or enjoy exploring the 5 acre property with meandering trails through a lovely forest. Check availability

Distance: 4.0 miles round trip
Difficulty: easy, pay attention to tides! Hike is only possible in low tides. Consult tide tables and plan accordingly. Dogs permitted on leash.
Trailhead Pass Needed: Discover Pass

GPS Waypoints: Harstine Island State Park Trailhead: N47 15.737 W122 52.236 McMicken Island Trailhead: N47 14.865 W122 51.780

Features: Kid and dog friendly, beach hiking, undeveloped coastline, small island reached via a sandbar, good bird watching, sublime views of Mount Rainier over Case Inlet.

Trailhead directions: From Olympia, head north on US 101 to Olympic Highway (SR 3) Exit in Shelton. Then turn and follow SR 3 east for 11.0 miles. Turn right onto Pickering Road (Signed for Harstine Island) and drive 3.3 miles. Then bear left onto Harstine Bridge Road and come to a T-junction upon entering Harstine Island. Go left on North Island Drive and after 3.0 miles turn right at the island community hall onto East Harstine Island Road. Proceed for one mile and turn left onto Yates Road. Continue 0.9 mile and turn right into Harstine Island State Park. Reach trailhead parking in 0.2 mile.

Taking Care of our stars

Text & images Thom Robbins

Starfish, or sea stars, are some of the ocean's most fascinating creatures.  They lack brains and blood, digest food outside their bodies, and can  regenerate lost limbs—sometimes even growing a new starfish from a  single severed arm. In the colorful, thriving world of the Salish Sea, starfish stand out for their beauty and vital role in the ecosystem.

Beyond their striking appearance, starfish play a crucial role in maintaining balanced ecosystems. As keystone species, they regulate the populations of other marine animals, maintaining ecosystem balance. Without them, the entire system can become unbalanced, affecting many different species.

Starfish or Sea Stars?

While 'starfish' and 'sea star' are often used interchangeably, sea star is the scientifically accurate name. The reason is simple: sea stars are not actually fish. They lack scales, fins, and gills, which are essential characteristics of true fish. Regardless of this, 'starfish' remains the popular term in everyday language!

Diving into our local waters reveals a world of intricate ecological connections, with starfish acting as caretakers, maintaining the delicate balance of their underwater habitat.

One of everyone's favorites, the Ochre Sea Star, (shown above) with its vivid shades of purple, orange, and yellow, plays a crucial role in the Salish Sea. It's role of preying on oysters, mussels, and barnacles maintains an intertidal population balance and diverse marine ecosystem.  Some aquaculture farmers may not agree, but without sea stars, oysters would dominate the habitat and disrupting the ecosystem balanc

30 Local Stars

Of the 2,000 species worldwide, over 30 sea stars are found locally, adapted to the cool, nutrient-rich waters. This includes the vibrant Rainbow Star, known for its striking red and orange hues, often seen in rocky subtidal areas. This species is an active predator, feeding on urchins, snails, and even other starfish. Another intriguing species is the Vermilion Star, which inhabits deeper waters and stands out with its bright red hue. It primarily feeds on sponges and small invertebrates, slowly moving along the seafloor for prey.

Starfish belong to a diverse group of marine animals called echinoderms, which include sea urchins, sand dollars, and sea cucumbers. Echinoderms are characterized by radial symmetry, often with a five-point structure, though some species can have more arms. They also have unique skin, which ranges from smooth and velvety to spiny and rough. Their internal skeleton is made of calcium carbonate plates, giving them strength and flexibility.

Water for Blood

Instead of blood, sea stars pump  seawater through a network of canals called the water vascular system. This system powers their movement, helps them breathe, and delivers nutrients throughout their bodies. By filtering seawater stars can absorb the oxygen and nutrients they need to survive.

By pumping seawater, they extend and retract tiny tube feet on their arms, which act like suction cups. This enables them to crawl across the ocean floor, clinging to rocks and rough surfaces. Some species do this surprisingly fast. the Sunflower Sea Star can travel up to a meter per minute!

Vermillion Star

Some sea stars use their suction-cup tube feet to pry open mussels, clams and oysters, exerting pressure with their tube feet up to ten times their body weight, giving them the power to open even the most tightly closed shells.

Once a starfish has pried open a shell just enough, it does something extraordinary—it extends its stomach out of its body and into the shell. This allows it to digest the prey externally, turning the meal into a liquid form that it can absorb into its body. This method of external digestion makes it easier for starfish to consume prey that would otherwise be too large to eat.

Each species has evolved distinct feeding strategies. For instance, the Leather Star has been known to drill tiny holes into the shells of its prey, providing access to hard-to-reach food sources.

A New Limb

One of the most fascinating features of starfish is their incredible ability to regenerate. Losing a limb isn’t the end for a starfish; it’s an opportunity for renewal. They can grow back a severed arm and, in some cases, even regenerate an entire body from just a part of a limb, as long as it includes part of the central disc.

This ability comes from specialized cells in their arms that can transform into the various types of cells needed for regrowth. This regenerative power helps them escape predators, heal from injuries, and even reproduce, making them incredibly resilient. Scientists are studying this ability not just to understand marine life better but also to explore its potential applications in medical research, offering new insights into how cells can regenerate and repair.

Each starfish species has adapted to thrive in its niche within the diverse marine environment. For instance, the Blood Star is well-suited to the cooler, deeper waters of the Pacific, where it feeds primarily on organic detritus and sponges. Unlike intertidal species, the Blood Star can be found on rocky reefs and sandy bottoms. Its bright red or orange coloration helps it stand out. Yet, it has developed the ability to blend into its surroundings when threatened, making it resilient and adaptable.

Deep-dwelling species like the Giant Pink Sea Star prefer the quiet, dark seabed. These starfish are found moving across the ocean floor, searching for prey like sponges and other slow-moving animals. The Velcro Star is known for its smooth, fluid movement. Their tube feet glide effortlessly over different surfaces in a coordinated, wave-like pattern. This technique lets it navigate tricky terrains, such as rocky crevices and dense kelp beds, with agility and speed. Its graceful movement, combined with a varied diet of algae, small invertebrates, and detritus, makes the Velcro Star highly adaptable across Pacific marine habitats.

The Bat Star, are often found in tide pools using their arms to sense the world around them. Each species has found a way to survive and thrive, whether braving the harsh intertidal zone, navigating the deep sea, or at home in tide pools.

Who needs a Brain?

Starfish have a decentralized nervous system rather than a central brain. This system consists of a nerve ring around their mouth, which connects to radial nerves running down each arm. Each arm acts independently, allowing the starfish to respond to its environment without a central control center.

The radial nerves help the starfish detect changes in temperature, light, touch, and the presence of chemicals in the water. Starfish may not have eyes like ours, but their keen sense of their surroundings helps them survive and thrive in a complex and sometimes harsh environment. Through research, conservation efforts, and sustainable practices, we may ensure that these celestial emblems of the ocean continue to thrive.

Starfish Lifecycle

The lifecycle of a starfish begins with species releasing vast clouds of sperm and eggs into the water, allowing fertilization to occur freely in the open sea. Once these eggs are hatched, starfish begin life as tiny, free-swimming larvae called bipinnaria. The larvae look nothing like their star-shaped adult selves. They resemble translucent creatures with cilia that help them move. Feed on microscopic plankton, life is perilous for these young starfish. They drift with the currents, exposed to predators and other dangers, with only a fraction progressing to the next development stage. They gradually transform into brachiolaria larvae, developing the first signs of the star-like body.

After months of drifting, the larvae transform dramatically, settling onto the seafloor and developing into juvenile starfish. This stage is crucial as they switch from a free-swimming lifestyle to one anchored to the ocean floor. Once settled, they start to look more like the familiar star-shaped adults, with their tube feet ready to help them move and search for food. Different species have their unique spawning behaviors. The Sunflower Sea Star, known for its speed and many arms, can produce thousands of eggs simultaneously, increasing the chances that some will survive despite the high predation risk. In contrast, the Leather Star releases fewer eggs throughout the season, spreading their reproductive efforts. Starfish have surprisingly long lifespan. The Red Sea Star lives up to 20 years. Their longevity allows them to play a vital role in maintaining the balance of their ecosystems. Each stage of their lifecycle, from tiny drifting larvae to powerful adult predators, is a testament to their resilience, intricately linked to the currents and tides.

Wasting Disease

Starfish wasting disease

Sea stars are adapted to withstand harsh conditions, like as pounding waves, intense heat, and dry low tides. However, during the 2014-2016 marine heatwave, ocean temperatures made them more susceptible to sea star wasting disease causing a populations decline from Mexico to Alaska. Sea star wasting disease (SSWD) is a condition that causes lesions, limb loss, and disintegration. It has been linked to Sea Star-associated Densovirus (SSaDV). Researchers have found higher concentrations of this virus in sick sea stars compared to healthy ones. The virus attacks their tissues, breaking down the body and spreading through shared habitats and even the water. This has been especially devastating for the Sunflower Sea Star. By 2021, it was estimated that up to 90% of the West Coast Sunflower Sea Star population were lost due to this disease. As a primary predators of sea urchins, their absence has led to a surge in urchin populations.  Sea urchins began to overgraze kelp forests, resulting in "urchin barrens," areas where kelp has been decimated, leading to the loss of shelter and food for fish and invertebrates.  This imbalance's ripple effects highlight how crucial sea stars are to maintaining a healthy ecosystem. Their decline affects the immediate species they prey on and can lead to broader shifts, impacting the entire marine food web. Researchers are exploring solutions including breeding disease-resistant sea stars. Some facilities have raised sea stars in captivity and released them into the wild, hoping to restore populations and introduce more resilient individuals. While challenges remain, efforts continue to understand this devastating disease.

As keystone species, starfish play a critical role in aquatic ecosystems. Today, starfish face numerous threats, from rising ocean temperatures and pollution to habitat loss and the spread of sea star wasting syndrome. Conservation efforts, such as breeding disease-resistant starfish and monitoring sea star health, are crucial to ensure these creatures continue to thrive.

Mountain Glory Lodge Opens Its Doors at Lake cushman

Tucked into the quiet beauty of Washington’s Lake Cushman region, a new retreat is inviting guests to slow down, breathe deeply, and reconnect—with nature, with loved ones, and with themselves. Welcome to Mountain Glory Lodge, a thoughtfully designed getaway where modern comfort meets the restorative power of the Pacific Northwest.

Surrounded by towering evergreens and filtered lake views, the 2,200-square-foot, two-story home feels both expansive and intimate. From the moment you arrive—passing through a private gate and stepping onto the property—you get the sense that this is a place meant for unwinding.

Inside, the lodge blends warmth and intention. A live-edge wood dining table anchors the main living space, inviting long meals and even longer conversations. Nearby, a fully stocked kitchen—complete with a gas range, convection oven, and coffee and tea station—makes gathering effortless, whether you're preparing a casual breakfast or a celebratory dinner.

The home comfortably sleeps six guests across three bedrooms, including two private king suites and a third room featuring a queen bed with a twin XL bunk. Downstairs, a game room adds flexibility (and fun), with a trundle bed and queen pull-out sofa ready for extra guests. It’s a layout that works equally well for families, couples traveling together, or small retreats.

In the main-floor master suite, a spa-like bathroom offers a daily ritual worth savoring: a walk-in shower with dual luxury shower heads, designed to feel more like a boutique hotel than a cabin in the woods.

But it’s outside where Mountain Glory Lodge truly shines.

A sweeping, two-level wraparound deck extends the living space into the landscape. Here, mornings begin with coffee and birdsong, while evenings unfold around the custom outdoor BBQ area, where a Weber grill and Blackstone griddle make cooking part of the experience. A smokeless firepit flickers nearby, and a soft-style hot tub offers a place to soak under the stars.

For those craving activity, the property delivers more than expected. A lighted pickleball court, basketball setup, and classic yard games like cornhole and ladderball create easy opportunities for play. Inside, a pool table and game room keep the energy going, while a collection of yoga equipment, free weights, and even a massage table cater to guests looking to recharge more intentionally.

Despite its many amenities, Mountain Glory Lodge never loses sight of its purpose: to create space. Space to disconnect from the rush of daily life. Space to reconnect with what matters. Space to imagine what’s next.

With modern touches like keyless entry, smart TVs, Bluetooth surround sound, heated floors, and mini-split AC units, the home ensures comfort in every season. And yet, it’s the quieter details—the naturescape fountain, the filtered lake views, the hush of the surrounding forest—that linger most.

Mountain Glory Lodge is now welcoming guests and already booking quickly. For those seeking a Pacific Northwest escape that balances style, substance, and soul, this new Lake Cushman property might just be the place to get a little lost—and find something meaningful along the way.

Rates:
FRI • SAT • SUN $500 A NIGHT
MON - THU $350 A NIGHT
A $250 Cleaning Fee will be Applied to Each Stay

Step back in time To the Matlock Old Timer’s Fair

The first weekend in May an army of dedicated volunteers from the tiny Mason County town of Matlock transform their local school grounds and invite attendees to step back to simpler time of homemade pies, tractor rides and country dances.

This Rockwellesque celebration is the perfect way to get your family back into the swing of community events!

The Fair provides fun for the whole family and admission is free. Delicious country fair food – especially the homemade pies (try a piece and take home the whole pie) and a community welcome are the hallmarks of this decades old tradition.

Enjoy living forestry and farming historical displays, craft and historical exhibits and find your feet tapping to the live music on two stages. One stage is indoor, with comfortable seating warm and out of the rain should a May shower visit the event.

The fair celebrates Matlock’s heritage in the timber industry, with draft horses, early day machines and motors as well as  blacksmithing and an entire gym filled with antique booths. In addition enjoy kids’ activities, hand-crafted items, historical events, agricultural events, food, a firewood raffle, prizes and live music. 

Most of the displays are inside and surrounding the school buildings and be sure to stop by the John Tornow exhibit located anear the main stage.. This is the story an "Unsolved mystery," a century later. “Victim or Villain?” is the true story of events a century old. John Tornow lived in the Matlock area and his memory lives on her e and at the Matlock Historical Museum open during the Fair.

Other attractions include kids train rides, tractor pulls, plant and starter vegetable sale, crafts and antique booths, and live demonstrations of the Dolbeer steam donkey. Sunday features antique and classic cars , tractors and steam engines.

This year the event is hosted May 2-3 with the fair open 10:00 AM – 6:00 PM on Saturday and 10:00 AM – 4:00 PM on Sunday.

The event is located at 2987 Matlock-Brady Rd., about five miles south of the Matlock store and 15 miles north on Highway 8. For additional details visit the event page. FREE

Forest Festival celebrates more than four decades of community

A parade, a pageant, and Paul Bunyan, 82 years ago Mason County had it's own ideas about raising awareness about fire prevention. To help combat the destructive wildfires — while also promoting the importance of forests — Mason County hosted the first annual forest festival in the spring of 1945.

The history of the area is closely tied with logging operations in the area. In 1853, Michael T. Simmons built the first sawmill in Mason County on Mill Creek just south of Shelton. Around this same time, David Shelton staked a claim on a nearby inlet off Puget Sound. Sol G. Simpson came to the area and founded the Simpson Logging Company in the 1890s. The Simpson Company eventually expanded throughout the country.

Fire SafeTY & Timber Strong

The first Mason County Forest Festival showcased the value of timber, while demonstrating the importance of safeguarding the forests against fires. The ninth Forest Festival celebrated the 100th anniversary of logging operations in Mason County, and a monumental sign carved into a slice of Douglas fir was permanently dedicated in it’s location overlooking Shelton’s Oakland Bay. The sign can be still viewed today at Outlook Park.

People from all over Washington region flocked to Shelton to see “the dramatic Forest Pageant, the thrilling parade and the exciting contests of loggers falling, bucking, and tree topping."  On the festival’s final day in 1953 30,000 people — six times the regular population of the town — crowded into Shelton to watch the Paul Bunyan Parade."

Attending? Here’s What to expect:

In 2026 Forest Festival will  celebrate 82 years. With eight decades of courts and 1000s of volunteer hours this festival is a testament to the community's connection to its timber heritage, both as a natural resource to use and to protect. This year's festivities include classic elements that make this festival special as well as a few extra events.

Carnival
May 28 - May 31 | Grove & First, Shelton
Fun rides, games, and delicious fair food for all ages to enjoy.

Goldsborough Creek Run
May 30, 6:30 AM | Railroad Ave, Shelton
Different start times and age levels, start Forest Festival Saturday with a little cardio.

Fire Station Pancake Breakfast
May 30, 7 - 11 AM | 122 W Franklin St, Shelton
Pre-parade breakfast to support the local fire department.

Family & Pet Parade before the Paul Bunyan Grand Parade
May 30, 10:30 AM | Railroad Ave, Shelton
Everyone is welcome to participate in the Family parade before the Grand parade features colorful floats, marching bands, goups & businesses.

Logging Show & Vendor Showcase
May 30, 12 PM | Loop Field, Shelton
Food, crafts, vendors and a tdisplay of forestry skills, including log rolling, and axe throwing.

Rockin' The Forest Live Music and Dancing
May 30, 6 PM | OurCU, Olympic Ave, Shelton
All ages live music to keep the energy high and entertain festival-goers before the fireworks show.

Fireworks Show (Pending crowd-sourcing fundraiser)
May 30, 10 PM | Wallace Kneeland Blvd area, Shelton
A spectacular evening display lighting up the sky.

Shelton Car Show Off
May 31, 10-3 PM  | Olympic Hwy
Supports the NJROTC cadets’ leadership program and activities. Registration 8 -11AM.

For more information about the 80th anniversary Forest Festival and how to plan your visit, click the link below!

Fresh Shellfish from the Source

You’ve heard it before – those dang months with the “r.” Well, technically local oyster farmers don’t agree, bivalves have a much longer season, Some of the best shucks are in May – but there is something to be said for a fall or spring oyster over a “peak of the summer” one. That’s why March and April are the perfect time to follow the shellfish trail and visit local farms that grow the food you love.

In Search of Perfection

Want to meet the farmers that wake up on the night tides to bring you the perfect oyster, clam or geoduck? Check out these farms on and around Hood Canal!

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Capital Oysters & Seattle Shellfish

South Puget Sound | capitaloyster.com

5th generation oyster farmer, Tom Bloomfield, tide tumbles Capital oysters that are suspended off the ground. The growing process results in a smooth, super deep shell as each oyster captures the essence of the beautiful ocean waters, free of sand and zero muddy tastes.

Chelsea Farms & Olympia Oyster Bar

Chelsea Farms | photo:poppi photography

Eld & Totten Inlet
Chelsea Farms is a current working model of environmental sustainability. They have made a priority of farming the Olympia Oyster, a native oyster to Olympia, that was on it’s way to extinction. Specialties include their Chelsea Gem, Bonita, and Olympia Oysters, along with fresh clams and geoduck. Visit their Oyster bar in downtown Olympia to get the ultimate local seafood experience!

Let’s Go:

CHELSEA FARMS OYSTER BAR
222 CAPITOL WAY N, OLYMPIA, WA 98501
Phone: (360) 915-7784
Hours: TUES-FRI 11AM-9PM, SAT 10AM - 10PM | SUN 10AM - 9PM
menu

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The Fjord Oyster Bank

Sea Nymph Oysters

Hoodsport & Hammersley | southsoundoysters.com

24341 N Hwy 101 Hoodsport | (360) 877-2102

For the last decade and a half the Hansen family has been raising oysters and clams on South Puget Sound's nutrient rich waterway, Hammersley Inlet. Through a tumble bag and a bag to beach process these oysters have distinct merrior as well as shape profiles resulting from their growth process despite being in the geographic. The tumble bag Hemingways have a sweet cucumber finish while the beach finished Sea Nymphs have a kelpy taste. Hemingway Sweets roll in deeper water and have a deep cup, sweet flavor and a full-body crunch. Hemingways (coined from Ernest Heminway's famous oyster quote) as well as Sea Nymphs, are available for raw and grilled preparation at their Hoodsport café and Oyster Bar, Fjord Oyster Bank.

Let’s Go:

Fjord Oyster Bank Oyster Bar
24341 N Hwy 101, Hoodsport
Phone: (360) 877-2102
Hours: THUR-SAT 10 AM-8PM, SUN10AM - 6PM | Closed MON-WED
menu

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Hama Hama Oyster Farm

Lilliwaup, Hood Canal
A few years ago the Hama Hama Oyster Co opened their Oyster Saloon in Liliwaup. This high energy destination serves oysters pulled from the last tide and prepared to order with an ever changing menu of seasonal local ingredients. In their retail shop you can purchase a variety of their Hood Canal product including salmon and oysters smoked on site. Hama Hama is a 5th generation family run farm with a reputation for quality and environmental mindfulness.

Let’s Go:

HAMA HAMA OYSTER CO
35846 US-101, Lilliwaup, WA 98555
PHONE: (360) 877-5811
Spring Hours: Farm Store Daily 9:30 to 5:30
Oyster Saloon Check website for details
Shellfish is available in their retail store, Saloon and at parent restaurants throughout the Northwest. Product also available online and shipped directly to your home.

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Olympic Oyster Co. & Mike’s Beach Resort

Eldon, Hood Canal
Third-generation farmers, Matthew and Sara are serious about producing some award winning oysters on site for market and available at restaurants as far away as New York. Guests staying on the active farm aka Mike’s Beach Resort have first dibs on some of the freshest oysters on the fjord!  

Let’s Go:

Mike’s Beach Resort
38470 N US Highway 101, Lilliwaup, WA 98555
Phone (360) 877-5324
Waterfront cabins and rooms, with view of the canal.

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Taylor Shellfish

South Puget Sound and British Columbia
Stop in at Taylor Shellfish’s headquarters and visit their market near Shelton. Taylor’s specialties include the famed Kumamoto (sweet fruity flavor) and the Virginica (Crisp, briny, and buttery). The company has been farming oysters on Puget Sound since the 1890’s when great-grandfather Justin Taylor began farming Olympias. Five generations later, the company’s product line includes worldwide export of geoduck, clams, and mussels along with oysters.

Let’s Go:

TAYLOR SHELLFISH RETAIL STORE
130 SE Lynch RD Shelton WA, 98584 
PHONE: (360) 432-3300
Hours: Open for Monday - Sunday: 10am - 6:00pm; Closed all major holidays
Shellfish is also available at one of their many locations throughout NW Washington. Product also available online and shipped directly to your home.

Explore The Glen — where adventure begins and comfort meets the beauty of Washington’s Hood Canal.

Nestled between forest and fjord, The Glen is your ultimate base camp for outdoor escapes, weekend retreats, and unforgettable getaways. With 14 hotel rooms (including pet-friendly options), luxury suites, a vacation rental, and full RV hookups, you’re perfectly positioned to explore the Olympic National Park, Staircase, Lake Cushman, and beyond. From free coffee and waterfront jacuzzis to deep-water diving and forest trails, The Glen blends rustic charm with modern amenities. Whether you're hiking, kayaking, oyster tasting, or just relaxing by the fire pit—this is where your story begins.

5 amazing hikes around Hood Canal

Award winning local guidebook author, Craig Romano, shared 25 of his top area hikes with us in a handy “stuff-in-your-glovebox guide,” here are a few of the many hikes that are open and awaiting your adventure! Welcome to the #wildsideWA.

Tighten your laces!

1. Murhut Falls
(Olympic National Forest)

Hidden in a lush narrow ravine, Murhut Falls were long unknown to many in the outside world. But all that changed upon the construction of a well-built and easy to hike trail. This two-tiered waterfall that plummets 130 feet has become a favorite cascade for many Olympic Peninsula hikers. The trail starts by following an old well-graded logging road. As you work your way toward the falls, its roar will signal that you’re getting closer. Reach the trail’s end and behold the impressive falls crashing before you. The upper falls drops more than 100 feet while the lower one crashes about 30 feet.

• Difficulty: Easy, 300 feet elevation gain, 1.6 miles

• Permits: Not required

• Kid and Dog Friendly: Yes

2. DuckabusH River trail
(Olympic National Forest)

The Duckabush River starts in the heart of the Olympic Mountains and flows through a deep verdant valley on its way to Hood Canal. Duckabush River Trail travels near and along the river for more than 20 miles terminating at Marmot Lake in the heart of Olympic National Park. At a little over 3 miles you will come to a ledge with a spectacular view east down the river valley. On a clear day you can see all the way to the Cascades.

• Highlights: Old-growth forest, low elevation wilderness valley, backpacking opportunities

• Distance: Moderate, 10.6 miles R/T  Elevation gain: 2150 feet

• Permits: NW Forest Pass /Interagency Pass

• Kid & Dog Friendly: Yes

Duckabush River

3. LENA LAKES TRAIL
(OLYMPIC NATIONAL FOREST & PARK)

With all the fire activity this iconic trail system remains far removed from the bustle. The Lena Lakes are located above the Hamma Hamma valley. Despite having the same name, the two lakes have distinct differences. The lower lake is a simple, family and pet-friendly walk through old, tall trees in Olympic National Forest. The upper lake is a tough climb to a beautiful high area in Olympic National Park. The lower lake can be busy with hikers on a summer Saturday while the upper lake offers more solitude. Access to both lakes is the same.

• Highlights: Old-growth forest, water!

• Distance: Lower: 6 miles R/T; Upper: 14 miles R/T

• Elevation gain: Lower: 1225 feet; Upper : 4100 feet

• Difficulty: Lower Lake: moderate; Upper Lake: strenuous  Permits: Northwest Forest or Interagency Pass

• Hiking Season: Lower Lake: March to Dec; Upper Lake: July to November

• Notes: Camping (no fires) at Upper Lake requires National Park Wilderness Camping Permit (contact Olympic National Park, Wilderness Information Center (360) 565-3100)

• Kid-Friendly: Yes Lower Lake; no Upper Lake   Dog-Friendly: yes Lower Lake; prohibited Upper Lake

4. spider lake
(Olympic National Forest)

A long slender lake tucked within a narrow valley on the Skokomish–Satsop River divide, Spider is graced with groves of ancient giant old-growth forest. The trail around the lake is a remnant of a longer trail that once traversed miles of primeval trees. Most of those trees have since been logged, and the trail truncated to the lake. The remaining trail has since been restored and the forests on the surrounding hillsides are regenerating nicely.

Highlights: Old-growth forest  Distance: 2 mile R/T Difficulty: Easy Elevation gain: 250 feet 
Permits: None
Kid and Dog Friendly: Yes

5. Schafer Forest Trail
(Schafer State Park)

Tucked along the East Fork Satsop River in extreme southwestern Mason County, Schafer State Park is off-the-beaten path. While this park is far from population centers, it was a thriving spot for many years. In 1872 the Schafer Family came from Wisconsin to homestead here. Three of their sons, Peter, Albert and Hubert begin logging the homestead in the 1890s. They donated this parcel to the state in 1924, and it continued to host many large company gatherings as well as other groups. Today the park is much quieter, but families still come here to gather. The park’s trails however tend to remain pretty peaceful.

Highlights: Historic homestead; trail along Satsop River; salmon spawning creek and estuary        
Distance: 1.3 mile loop Elevation gain: 75 feet
Difficulty: Easy Permits: Discover Pass Kid & Dog Friendly: Yes

This is only a SMALL sampling of the amazing hikes available in the area! Check out the hikes link for a full list of places to explore, visit the waterfalls trail for a comprehensive list of year-round waterfall destinations — or pick up or download a copy of Romano’s Top 25 Hikes!

Roam Wolfdog Sanctuary Offers Education Tours

Story: Jeff Slakey

Amongst the woods outside Shelton, off Highway 101, the ROAM Wolfdog Sanctuary provides a home for some of the most misunderstood animals in the world—wolfdogs. On a sprawling 40-acre property, the sanctuary educates the public, advocates for conservation, and provides a safe, enriching life.

photo credit: ROAM Wolfdog Sanctuary

Every wolfdog at ROAM has a story, and most share a similar beginning. They were bred to be pets, then abandoned or surrendered when their owners realized they weren't suited for a domestic lifestyle. "All of these animals here were bred to be somebody's pet," explains Jody Woolard, sanctuary's founder. "They want to mimic something that looks like it just walked out of Yellowstone Park, but they require a lifestyle that most people aren't prepared for."

Unlike dogs, wolfdogs have wild instincts that make them difficult to manage in a home environment. They require large enclosures, an all-raw diet, and specialized care. Many are high-content wolfdogs, meaning they have over 90% wolf DNA. While some enjoy meeting people, others take their time warming up to new faces.

One of the biggest misconceptions about wolfdogs is that they make good guard dogs. In reality, they tend to be skittish rather than protective. "They are not house pets," Woolard says. "They need to be outside. They need enclosures with eight-foot-tall fencing and dig guards so they can't escape."

Their diet is also unique. "They eat raw," says animal caretaker Reanna Warren. "Chicken, steak, pork—sometimes beef, but they're picky. They won't touch boneless, skinless chicken, and if it's ground beef, it has to be frozen."

ROAM is not only a shelter—it's a permanent home for its residents. Each enclosure spans about an acre, giving the animals space to roam while protecting the public. "We try to create an environment for them that is as natural as possible," Woolard says. "In the winter, we get snow, which they love. And in the summer, the forest keeps it from getting too hot."

Community plays a role in keeping the sanctuary running. Volunteers come to help clean enclosures and construct new habitats. Food donations come from local grocery stores and hunters. For visitors, a tour of ROAM is a chance to see these animals up close and learn about wolves' vital role in the ecosystem. "Wolves keep deer and elk populations in check, which benefits many other plant and animal species," explains Woolard. "But in some regions, they're still being hunted. Nearly 1,000 wolves in the Northern Rocky Mountains were killed last year alone."

Touring ROAM

Tours at ROAM last about 90 minutes and offer an up-close look at the lives of these animals. Visitors can witness a playful interaction between Issabel and Kovu, a bonding moment between Pretty Boy Floyd and Felony, or even hear the pack's haunting howls echoing through the trees. "Two of our neighbors leave their windows open at night just to hear the howling," Woolard shares.

As a nonprofit 501(c)(3) organization, ROAM relies on donations and sponsorships to continue its mission. "Every year, wolfdogs are abandoned, rescued, or euthanized because people purchased an animal they weren't prepared to care for," says Woolard. Sponsorships cover food costs, medical care, and facility maintenance, ensuring the wolfdogs can live out their life safely and comfortably.

Another way you can help is by spreading awareness about ROAM, the wolfdogs, and the importance of conservation. "Education is key," Woolard says. "The more people understand these animals, the better we can protect both them and their wild counterparts."

So, if you're a wildlife enthusiast, an advocate for conservation, or someone looking for a unique experience in Mason County, a visit to ROAM Wolfdog Sanctuary is sure to leave you with a newfound respect for these remarkable animals.

To learn more or schedule a tour, visit their website, roamwithus.org or come to ROAM with the pack. The Guided Educational Tours at Roam cater to wildlife enthusiasts, animal lovers, students, and families seeking an enriching and educational experience. This exclusive opportunity allows guests to engage with wolfdogs in a meaningful way and support the sanctuary's mission of promoting coexistence and understanding between humans and wildlife.

Head to the Mount Walker Summit

Craig Romano | story

The Easternmost peak in the Olympic Mountains, Mount Walker offers a commanding view of Dabob Bay sparkling below and the Seattle skyline shimmering across Puget Sound. The close up of massive Mount Constance, the third highest peak in the Olympic Mountains is pretty darn impressive too. But the real joy to hiking this trail is ambling through its profuse clusters of rhododendrons. Hit the trail to Mount Walker in May or June for an ascent up a purple mountain majesty!

Hit the Trail

While a dirt road winds four miles up the north and east side of Mount Walker allowing folks to drive to the views—hiking to them is far more rewarding. The trail ascends the mountain’s thickly forested west side far away from the road. But if the thought of busting your rump up a mountain only to be greeted by fresh-smelling folks who just popped out of their vehicle doesn’t appeal to you—then consider a hike up Walker when the road is gated and closed to vehicles. It’s also during that time that you can consider a loop hike by returning on the road.

On the rare occasions that snow accumulates on this low Olympic peak, the road makes for an excellent snowshoe or cross country ski route.

From the unimposing trailhead immediately begin climbing through a tunnel of rhododendrons under a uniform canopy of second-growth cedars and hemlocks. Washington’s state flower, the Pacific (or coast) rhododendron, grows in profusion along the steep dry slopes of Mount Walker. For much of the year the rhodies merely add a layer of dark green to the forest understory.

Pacific Rhododendron

But come late spring this hardy shrub begins to blossom, speckling the surrounding firs and hemlocks with rosy-purple bouquets. By June, vibrant violet bell-shaped blossoms ring throughout the emerald forest.

Interestingly, that although the Pacific Rhododendron is Washington’s state flower, it’s not very widespread in the Evergreen State. It primarily grows along the east slopes of the Olympics near Hood Canal, the Kitsap Peninsula and a few pockets on the western slopes of the Cascades.

It’s far more distributed in Oregon and grows profusely in the state’s southern Coastal Mountains as well as along California’s north coast. A clover, a flower more widespread in Washington, but not nearly as grand and showy as the rhododendron, almost became the state’s official flower back in 1892. But the rhodie overwhelmingly won the vote by thousands to represent Washington in the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair. It wasn’t until 1959 however when the state legislature made the rhodie officially the state’s flower. Mount Walker is one of the best places in Washington to appreciate this beautiful flower.

The trail climbs steeply. Occasionally take a break and look up to see if you can locate any of the old wire and insulators that once serviced a fire tower on the summit. After about 1.5 miles small ledges begin to break the monotony of the forest and tease with limited views. The grade then eases. Finally after 2 miles and nearly 2000 feet of climbing reach the North Summit viewpoint, which was the site of a fire lookout from 1931—1967.

Enjoy good but limited views west and north here. Then head to the South Summit (dogs must be leashed at the summits) by walking the graveled Summit Road for 0.4 mile to a picnic area and then following a 0.1 mile trail to a breathtaking panoramic view of Puget Sound.

Stare straight down to Quilcene Bay, Dabob Bay and the Toanodos Peninsula. Across the sparkling waters Green and Gold Mountains rise on the Kitsap Peninsula. Locate the Seattle skyline east of Kitsap. When clouds are absent or high in the sky, Mount Rainier adds a snowy backdrop to this beautiful scene. And if you’re here in June, the view will be framed with fragrant purple boughs.

Mount Walker

Distance: 5.0 miles roundtrip
Elevation Gain: 2050 feet
High Point: 2805 feet
Difficulty: difficult
Snow free: April—December
Trailhead Pass Needed: None

Notes: From November 1 until March 31 FR 2730 is gated. During this time park away from the gate near US 101 and walk .3 mile to the trailhead. Do not block the gate, park in the road, or block any private driveways.

GPS waypoints: Trailhead: N47 46.554 W122 54.854 | Summit picnic area: N47 47.100 W122 54.077

Features: Exceptional views of Hood Canal; historic fire tower site; one of the finest trails in the Olympics for rhododendron blooms

Land Agency Contact:

Olympic National Forest, Hood Canal Ranger District, Quilcene, (360) 765-2200, http://www.fs.usda.gov/olympic

Recommended Guidebook:

Day Hiking Olympic Peninsula 2nd edition (Romano, Mountaineers Books)

Trailhead directions:

From Shelton follow US 101 north for 47 miles. From Quilcene drive US 101 south for 5 miles) to just north of milepost 300. Turn right onto Mount Walker Road (FR 2730) and proceed 0.3 mile to the trailhead.

Guest Columnist:

Craig Romano

From forest ranger, to history teacher and now a full-time outdoor writer, Romano developed a love of the natural world growing up in rural New Hampshire. Romano has written more than 25 outdoor guide books including "Winter Hikes of Western Washington” (Mountaineers Books, 2009) and "Day Hiking Olympic Peninsula." He lives in Mt. Vernon with his wife and son.

The Waddington Brothers to Perform in Shelton

Live On Stage, Inc. and Mason County Community Concert Association announce Sibling Bluegrass/Western band as part of their 2025-2026 Concert Season.

Join the Waddington Brothers as they perform iconic Bluegrass and Western music with jaw-dropping authenticity in a live concert at Shelton High School Auditorium in Shelton, Washington on Friday, February 13, 2026 at 7:00 p.m.  This is the third concert of our 25-26 season. Tickets to the remaining concerts in the 25-26 season are available at a discounted rate of $80 for adults. Families with children under 18 add just ten more dollars for all the children for the season. Single tickets to this performance are $30 (adults). Children under 18 are free with a paying adult. Check out our website www.masoncountyconcerts.org for information on season passes.

The Waddington Brothers, a band of four brothers from rural North Dakota, perform what they live: music that is real to them, that takes listeners on a journey through the heart of the American West. Seth, Ethan, Jacob and Job skillfully blend cowboy and bluegrass music, creating a style that is timelessly classic and yet refreshingly new and unique.

For more information call 360-490-1098 or visit us at www.masoncountyconcerts.org.

BIRDS OF A FEATHER FLOCK TOGETHER

H/T Tracing The Fjord | Winter ‘25 | STELLA WENSTOB | olympicbirdtrail.com

Those folks obsessed with bird identification? Yes, birders—and they’re far cooler than the stereotype suggests.

Once caricatured as binocular-toting nerds with overstuffed packs and dubious dried banana chips, today’s birders are more likely carrying a smartphone than a color-coded guidebook. Nerdy, it turns out, is in. Modern birding trades paper for sleek apps like iBird and iNaturalist, making it easy to identify, log, and even crowdsource sightings—all while contributing to real scientific understanding.

In the Pacific Northwest, with its remarkable variety of birdlife, birding is about far more than snacks and checklists. It’s an inviting way to slow down, look up, and connect with the natural world.

Getting Started

The Audubon Society is a great place to start if you’re just dipping your webbed foot into the vast waters of birding. Their website offers a free birding app, engaging articles, and access to hundreds of local chapters—five in the Olympic-Kitsap Peninsula area alone—that host birding classes, walks, and events.

One of those events is the longest-running bird census in the world: the Christmas Bird Count. Now entering its 125th year, the count gathers data from volunteer birders across North and South America. It was developed as a replacement for the old holiday “side hunt,” a competitive tradition among hunters that focused on the most game taken over the season.

Learning From the Nest

If the weather is too nasty to head outside, stay in your nest and feather it with avian knowledge. The Audubon Society offers online courses, including interactive Zoom lectures with local experts. The Cornell Lab of Ornithology provides more in-depth, accredited bird identification courses, along with plenty of solid free basics.

The Washington Ornithological Society and American Birding Association also offer a digital, up-to-date version of A Birder’s Guide to Washington. While it doesn’t help with identification, it provides an exhaustive list of where to find species and helps plan productive birding adventures.

Birding Mason County

If you’re ready to venture out in wintery weather, Mason County is teeming with migratory and year-round resident birds. Hit the trails and start scanning the skies, vegetation, and waterways.

Pack binoculars, a scope, digital camera, or smartphone (with iBird and Audubon maps downloaded). Old-school works too—just a notepad and pencil. Wear good walking shoes and weather-appropriate clothing.

Almost every green space—backyard or state park—offers birding potential. To honor the spirit of road trips and the hallowed practice of list-making, here are a few favorite local birding haunts.

For the Birds

Hilburn Preserve

The Capitol Land Trust Hilburn Preserve, just off Highway 101 west of Shelton, features an easy half-mile loop beside the lively Goldsborough Creek. The wooded habitat is ideal for spotting woodland birds such as Red-breasted Sapsucker, Hutton’s Vireo, Pacific Wren, and Cedar Waxwing.

Bayshore Preserve

Leaving Hilburn, head east on Railroad Avenue toward downtown Shelton, then north on Olympic Highway South. Turn right onto Highway 3 (East Pine Street), which follows Oakland Bay to the Bayshore Preserve.

This Capitol Land Trust property is part of the Great Washington State Birding Trail. Oak savannas border the shoreline and Johns Creek outflow. Peregrine Falcons have been spotted perched in the oaks, while Great Blue Herons frequent the open areas. Scan the bay for waterfowl diving in warmer waters.

Mary Theler Wetlands Nature Preserve

Located just outside Belfair (22641 WA-3), this 139-acre preserve protects estuarine habitat along the Union River delta. Marshlands, meadows, forests, and tidal waters support impressive wildlife diversity.

Five trails highlight different habitats, some with views of the southern Olympic Mountains. The River Estuary Trail—built atop breached dikes—offers sightings of river otters, Belted Kingfishers, and Great Blue Herons. Pools host Northern Pintail, Green-winged Teal, Common Merganser, and a wide range of shorebirds. Bald Eagles are commonly seen.

Twanoh State Park & Skokomish River Delta

Backtrack along Highway 106 toward Hood Canal to reach Twanoh State Park. With over 182 acres of forest and shoreline, it offers both terrestrial and marine birding. The 2.5-mile inland trail is reliable for Red Crossbills and Brown Creepers.

Continuing through Union brings you to the Skokomish River delta, rich with waterfowl such as Mallard, Northern Pintail, Red-breasted Merganser, and large flocks of American Wigeon. Bald Eagles are frequent here.

Hood Canal Corridor

Heading north on Highway 101 keeps you alongside Hood Canal, with strong birding stops at Potlatch State Park, Lilliwaup Creek, Eagle Creek, and Jorsted Creek.

At Jorsted Creek, pilings from an old log dump serve as roosts for all three species of cormorants. Lacking water-repellent oils, these birds are often seen perched with wings spread to dry.

The Hamma Hamma River estuary is another productive area and home to a nearby Great Blue Heron rookery.

Dosewallips State Park

The final stop on this list, Dosewallips State Park spans more than 1,000 acres of river, estuary, shoreline, and mature forest. Known for Roosevelt Elk and curious seals offshore, it also supports a wide range of bird species.

The North Tidal Trail crosses marshes and offers excellent winter views of migrating Trumpeter Swans.

The parks and preserves of the Pacific Northwest offer outstanding birding opportunities. Birds of a feather flock together—and birders are never far behind.

For more information on fjord birding, visit olympicbirdtrail.com.

A Winter Guide to Our Local Tides

H/T Tracing The Fjord | Winter ‘25

If you live or spend any time along Hood Canal or in the South Sound, you get used to checking the tides. They shape when people head out for recreation, plan a boat launch, or keep an eye on their waterfront. But the names we use for tides can feel a little mysterious until you break them down.

Tides are the rise and fall of the ocean caused by the gravitational pull of the moon and the sun. As the Earth turns, our area passes through these gravitational pulls, which is what causes the highs and lows we notice along the shoreline. Most of the Pacific Coast, including Hood Canal and South Puget Sound, experiences what’s called mixed semi-diurnal tides, meaning two highs and two lows every 24 hours. Still, each one is a little different in height. Regular tide-chart watchers recognize that pattern right away.

You’ll also hear terms like spring tides and neap tides. Spring tides aren’t tied to the season. They happen when the sun, moon, and Earth line up, which creates higher highs and lower lows. Neap tides are the opposite. They arrive when the sun and moon are at right angles to each other, pulling the water in different directions and producing milder highs and lows.

Another term that comes up often in winter is king tide. It’s not a scientific label, but a common nickname for the year’s highest tides. These happen when the moon is closest to Earth and lines up with the sun. Around Hood Canal, king tides can raise water levels several feet above normal. People may notice when the shoreline creeps inland and low-lying roads collect water.

In winter, tide shifts carry a different rhythm. Many of the lowest tides show up in the early morning or evening, long before daylight. Boaters and paddlers will see water levels changing faster through the Great Bend or around Ayock Point. Homeowners might keep an eye on their docks and pilings, since deep lows can expose more structure than usual.

Shellfish growers around the canal monitor winter tides too, since cold air paired with low water can stress their crops. And for anyone heading out to collect shellfish on local beaches, those low tides can be inviting—just make sure you have the proper license and check harvest openings before you go.

A better understanding of the tides helps explain what we see every day along the Canal. And for anyone heading out in the winter months, a quick tide check remains one of the easiest ways to stay safe and make the most of the season.

THE STILL ONES: LIFE AMONG PACIFIC NORTHWEST ANEMONES

STORY & IMAGES: THOM ROBBINS

H/T Tracing The Fjord | Winter ‘25

Drop beneath the surface of Hood Canal, and the world does something strange. The noise you never realized you carried slips away. The cold presses close, the green water folds around you, and what felt familiar on the surface becomes something older, slower, more deliberate. Down here, even the smallest things can pull your attention, and few creatures lure you in like anemones.

The first time I hovered eye-level with a pair of orange-and-white plumose anemones, anchored together, I realized I’d stopped breathing. They rose from the rock like a lantern someone forgot to snuff out, their feathery rings swaying with the patience of something that had never once needed to rush. I had dropped into the water that day looking for wolf eels, maybe a wandering Pacific octopus if I was lucky, but instead I found myself suspended in the water, staring at a creature that held the whole moment in its grip.

The light from my dive torch slid across its surface, and the anemone flared gently, as if waking. The muted fire of orange and white felt older than anything else on the reef. I stayed there longer than I meant to, caught by something anchored in place, looking back without eyes and waiting without fear.

People often imagine anemones as simple flowers of the sea. They are anything but. Spend enough time underwater with them and you see the truth: they are predators, architects, survivors, and quiet powerhouses of the Pacific Northwest. They feed the ecosystem, help shape the seafloor, and provide shelter for everything from tiny shrimp to juvenile rockfish.

And they manage all of this without ever taking a single step.

Up close, anemones feel uncanny in a way only the sea manages—rooted creatures that still seem alert and watching. Divers tend to lump them together, these bright creatures pinned to the rocks, but the truth is far older and stranger than it appears. They all belong to the same ancient lineage, the class Anthozoa, animals that appeared long before fish, long before bones, long before anything with a face to show its intent.

Each anemone follows a familiar blueprint: a soft column crowned with tentacles and anchored by a disc. That disc holds the animal to rock, piling, sand, or shell and lets it ride out currents that could peel skin from stone. For a few species, it even becomes a getaway tool. When conditions turn bad, some Pacific Northwest anemones release their grip, inflate slightly, and drift away like pale balloons searching for safer ground.

Stillness is their choice, not their limitation.

In the Pacific Northwest alone, there are several dozen species of sea anemones. Within that shared design, each species holds its own personality, its own way of surviving a world that rarely shows mercy. Some anemones are patient hunters, waiting for fish or shrimp to brush against their tentacles so their stinging cells can fire like tiny traps tucked inside a single hair. Others are filter feeders, living a life where the current does the work, sweeping plankton across their tentacles. A few do both, depending on what the tides bring, switching strategies the way a writer changes pens—steady and deliberate.

Some swallow crabs whole. Others feed on jellies. Some are as small as scattered beads on the rock, and others rise tall enough to brush a diver’s mask.

They are family in the scientific sense, but in the water, they feel more like estranged relatives gathered in the rooms of the same old house. They share the same history, but each carries its own hidden secrets. Some shimmer with light borrowed from algae living inside them. Others wage quiet chemical war against their neighbors.

A few clone themselves into armies that spread across the seafloor like a slow tide. Others, despite their rooted appearance, quietly unstick and sail off into the dark if the world around them shifts.

They may look decorative at first, but spend enough time with them and the illusion dissolves. Beneath the calm is intention. Beneath the color is strategy. And beneath the soft drift of tentacles is a creature that has been perfecting survival since before the ocean knew anything more complicated than hunger and light.

Once you start paying attention, their structure begins to make sense through function rather than form. At the top, the tentacles guard a single opening that leads into the coelenteron, the chamber where circulation, digestion, and waste share a common path. There is no heart or specialized organs, only water moving through the body to do the work. It is simple on the surface and efficient beneath, a design nature created early and never had reason to revise.

If you understand that basic framework, the distinctions between species sharpen, almost like personalities rather than anatomy.

Giant green anemones are usually the first to pull you in, their bodies lit from within as if they are holding on to every bit of sunlight they ever borrowed. The color runs deeper than the tissue because of the algae living inside their cells, tiny partners trading photosynthesis for shelter. Brush too close and the whole ring of tentacles snaps shut, quick and certain, a reflex shaped by millions of years of ambush. To us, the sting is little more than a pinprick. To anything small enough to count as prey, it is a door shutting for good.

Plumose anemones follow the same plan but stretch it into something ghostly. They rise from pilings and rocky shelves as pale towers, their feathery tentacles blooming under a dive light. They do not hunt so much as gather. They stand in the current and let the world pass through their arms, sifting plankton with steady ease. On night dives, they look like candles lining some forgotten aisle, pale glimmers flickering each time a tide pulse rolls through. I have floated among them with only my breath for company and felt, for a moment, that I had wandered someplace sacred and not entirely safe.

Painted anemones carry the same architecture but disguise it under carnival colors. Reds, purples, creams, and browns swirl across their columns, so vivid you almost doubt what you see through your mask. They hold perfectly still, predators that know stillness can be its own kind of lure. I once watched a hermit crab inch across the edge of a painted anemone, as if easing across ice that might crack beneath it. One careless touch, one stumble into the tentacles, and that would have been the end of him. The anemone never twitched. It didn’t need to. Time does the work.

Then there are the aggregating, or clonal, anemones, the most abundant anemones on the tide-swept rocky shores of the Pacific coast. They repeat their small green design across whole stretches of reef, shrinking the instant a finger or wave brushes them. Most people never realize these harmless-looking colonies wage slow territorial wars, leaving chemical borders etched into the rock long after the fighting has ended.

And in the dimmer reaches of the walls, you find the strawberries—small and intensely bright, gathered in clusters that shine like embers against the rock. Their red and pink tones come from pigments in their own tissues, natural shields that help them handle shifting light rather than anything they eat. A single anemone barely catches the eye, but together they form tiny reefs, pockets of shelter where young fish slip out of the current. Shrimp thread themselves between the bodies, and tiny crabs wait out storms beneath the guarded crowns, trusting something that looks delicate yet stays anchored through anything the water delivers.

That is the truth anemones keep tucked beneath their soft crowns. They look like decoration, the ocean’s wildflowers, but nothing could be more wrong. They are shelter and glue, hunters and architects, patient predators and caretakers. They build structure where none would stand. They root the ecosystem in place. Without them, parts of Hood Canal would feel hollow in ways you only understand after you have spent years underwater, watching the quiet power of creatures that never move and never need to.

They are not background. They are the bones around which the seafloor grows.

For something anchored in place, anemones live complicated lives. They begin as drifting larvae, tiny specks carried wherever the tides push them. Most never make it, swept off or swallowed long before they touch stone. The few that survive settle on a rock, shell, piling, or even an old bottle and anchor there. Once they attach, they stay for life, which can stretch for decades if the currents and predators leave them be.

Once settled, anemones grow slowly and steadily, unfurling their tentacles to hunt. Those tentacles are loaded with tiny stinging cells called nematocysts. Under a microscope, they look like harpoons coiled in a trap, waiting for anything soft enough to touch.

Here’s a quiet bit of trivia: the same stinging machinery that makes box jellies deadly exists in Pacific Northwest anemones. Ours are far gentler, but the machinery is the same—just scaled down.

Some reproduce sexually by releasing eggs and sperm into the water, letting the current handle the matchmaking. Others, like aggregating anemones, clone themselves until an entire colony becomes one genetic individual. Kneel beside one and you might be looking at hundreds of copies of a single ancestor.

It’s an ancient strategy, and it works.

Underwater, alliances are messy, and enemies show up in strange shapes. Small crabs hide beneath anemones. Shrimp thread between their tentacles. Juvenile rockfish hover above them like nervous birds perched on an unseen rail. Anemones are living real estate, shelter for whatever needs protection from the current or from things waiting to strike.

Some fish even learn to hover close enough to avoid predators but not so close that they get stung. It’s an uneasy arrangement, but down here, even bad roommates can get along if the alternative is being eaten.

Crabs, strangely enough, are both protected by and prey to anemones. I have watched decorator crabs tiptoe across their tentacles with scraps of sponge strapped to their backs like makeshift armor. They move with a careful, testing gait, feeling for the slightest hint of danger. Sea stars sometimes pry anemones off rocks, consuming them in slow, patient mouthfuls. It is not a quick process. Nothing underwater ever is quick.

And then there are the battles you never see, the chemical duels between neighboring colonies. Aggregating anemones have specialized “fighter” polyps that they use to burn competitors. The line between territories is drawn in sting scars. Some anemones even fight themselves by accident, clone battling clone after currents shift them into the wrong arrangement.

Everything in the ocean is friend, enemy, or dinner. Sometimes it is all three at once.

If you ever want to understand the Pacific Northwest, descend into Hood Canal when the water turns green and the current softens. Look for the places where color gathers on the stone. Where tiny tentacles reach and sway. Where something motionless begins to feel like it is breathing with the sea.

Anemones are easy to overlook, but once you notice them, they pull you in. They are the quiet machinery of the ecosystem, visible only when you slow down enough to see them. They filter water, provide habitat, feed predators, and shape entire stretches of shore with time and patience.

On one late-winter dive, I found a single giant green anemone perched on a rock, its tentacles half-closed against the surge. I hovered there, just watching it. A whole world moving around a creature that stayed fixed in place. I raised my camera, took the shot, and realized something simple.

Not every marvel in the Salish Sea chases you or darts across your light, trying to be seen. Some simply wait to be noticed. And once you do, you begin to see the seafloor differently. You understand how much depends on what stays still.

THOM ROBBINS BIO

I spend as much time underwater as life allows, teaching diving and photography, chasing the perfect shot, and writing both nonfiction and fiction inspired by these waters. You can explore more of my work at www.thomrobbins.com.

When a Tree Falls in the Forest

H/T Tracing The Fjord | Winter ‘25

Trees are ever-present above us when visiting or camping in the forest. Yet, too often, we are unaware of the risks associated with trees. Trees and branches can fall at any time and at any location for lots of reasons, including weather, age, fire, damage and disease.

Avoid spending time in the forest on very windy days. If you are visiting a park on a windy day and hear trees and branches falling, leave the forest or go to an open area. Be aware of recent weather. Be particularly careful imme-diately following strong winds, heavy snowfall, or ice storm. Wind can break branches or uproot trees. Heavy snow and ice can weaken and break trees. Storm damage can take days to reveal itself and days or weeks to clean up. Avoid stopping to spend time under dead and unhealthy trees. Trees with missing needles or leaves, peeling bark, or missing limbs may be dead. Dead limbs and trees can fall without warning. Trees can have other defects that can cause them to fall such as internal rot, broken tops, weak branch connections, open cavities, or insect and disease activity. Not all defects are visible.

Be prepared and share your plans. Trees can fall and block roads or trails. Bring emergency supplies in case your adventure lasts longer than you planned.

Winter Getaways & Holiday Traditions in Mason County

H/T Tracing The Fjord | Winter ‘25

Winter in Mason County has a different pace. The crowds thin out, the forests go quiet, and the Hood Canal takes on a calm, moody feel that makes it easy to slow down. It’s the season for cozy stays, cold-air walks, and warm places to gather afterward.

Tucked along the forested shores of the Hood Canal on the Olympic Peninsula, Mason County becomes a low-key winter retreat. Whether you’re visiting for holiday events or just looking for a quiet escape, the area offers a mix of small-town charm, outdoor access, and places that feel right for the season.

Where to Stay This Winter

Shelton is a natural home base during the holidays. Festival of the Firs events, downtown shopping, dining, and community activities all center here, and everything is close. Lodging ranges from simple, budget-friendly motels to full-service resort stays.
The Shelton Inn remains a longtime community staple, especially convenient if most of your plans are in town. The Super 8 offers a straightforward stay uptown. For a more amenity-filled experience, Little Creek Casino Resort provides spacious rooms, dining, entertainment, and a warm place to unwind after a cold winter day.

If you’re drawn to the water, Hood Canal communities like Union, Hoodsport, and Lilliwaup are especially appealing in winter. Foggy mornings, still water, and quiet docks set the tone. Alderbrook Resort & Spa in Union offers lodge-style rooms and renovated cottages with canal views that feel especially fitting this time of year. It’s an easy choice for anyone looking for a comfortable winter escape with on-site dining and spa options.

In Hoodsport, The Glen offers a great balance between outdoor access and comfort. Close to winter hikes like Rocky Brook Falls, it’s the kind of place where you can spend the day outside and settle in by a fire at night. The Glen is also offering a winter special: stay two nights and get the third free.

For a slower, more residential feel, Allyn and Belfair offer easy access to waterfront parks, trails like the Theler Wetlands, and a relaxed pace. Located in the northeastern part of Mason County near Kitsap County and Bremerton, they’re well suited for travelers who want calm surroundings without being far from events or outdoor options. In Mason County, nothing is very far away, especially when it comes to hikes and views.

Winter Traditions & Holiday Events

Mason County isn’t just a place to stay — it’s a place that leans into the season. Festival of the Firs brings holiday traditions to life with parades, lights, crafts, and community gatherings rooted in the region’s timber heritage. Events like Christmastown at Camp Grisdale add caroling, wreath making, visits with Santa, and family-friendly activities that feel familiar and welcoming.

These winter events pair well with simple days: a morning walk along the canal, an afternoon hike through damp forest trails, and an evening spent downtown or back at your lodging warming up.

A Winter That Sticks With You

Winter here is about small moments — waking up to mist on the water, breathing in cold air, and moving through towns that feel connected and unhurried. Whether you stay close to Shelton’s holiday energy or tuck yourself away along the canal or in the woods, Mason County offers a winter experience that’s quiet, comfortable, and easy to settle into.

And if you find yourself planning a return visit, the same cabins, cottages, and resorts that feel cozy in winter become gateways to kayaking, forest walks, and long summer days by the water. Mason County has a way of fitting every season — winter just happens to show it at its calmest.