It was another grey and rainy day, so Henry and I decided to head off into town to spend the morning at the Oregon Coast Aquarium. We love aquariums, and take every opportunity to visit one together. It's tradition.

Located in the shadow of the Yaquina Bay Bridge, we parked at the Aquarium and jogged with hoods up to the entrance to avoid the drizzle.

The aquarium was beautiful and well laid out, both inside and outside. We hadn't really anticipated a large portion of the exhibits being outside in the rain! 

We learned that the aquarium had been the original home of Keiko, the orca and star of the Disney movie Free Willie. He lived there for two years until 1998 when he was shipped back to Iceland where he was later released into the ocean.

​We did not see any whales in the aquarium and for that we were thankful.  The exhibits looked clean and the marine mammals appeared happy and well cared for. We enjoyed the outdoor exhibits, especially watching the otters swimming together, rolling around in the water and watching us right back.  

In the walk-through aviary we heard the puffins, with their expressive macaroni eyebrows, singing to each other, pottering about with their comical gait, and stretching their wings. Puffins are just born to stand out. We also saw a variety of oystercatchers, guillemots and murres flying freely inside the netted tent.

Entering the indoor galleries we found ourselves in a deep, dark underwater world filled with exhibitions of ethereal jellies, leggy stars, pink crabs, horses with curly tails and both local and brightly colored, exotic fish. We progressed in the semi darkness to an huge acrylic underwater tunnel titled Passages of the Deep where we enjoyed a 360 degree view of sharks, eels, rays, skates and a rather nosy grouper.

We smiled at the Pacific Banana Slug that had been elevated to the title of ambassador at the aquarium.

There was a lot of information and many exhibits on the conservation and I read as much as Henry would allow.

At the end we visited the aquarium shop and bought a souvenir T-Shirt for Kim that had a picture of a fish on the front with the word 'Salty.'

Nice. 

Definitely worth a visit.

On the way back from Depoe Bay, we took a back road to Cape Foulweather. I just love that name. It sounds like a Rik Mayall superhero, right?

The towering basalt cliff jutting out into the Pacific Ocean was actually named by Captain James Cook on his third voyage around the world. He discovered it on March 7, 1778. The weather was particularly vile that day with winds of over 100mph, which are not uncommon in the area.

Captain Cook's March 7, 1778 journal reads:-

A northeast facing promontory with a small visitor center at the top called The Lookout, was a perfect place to whale watch. Using their binoculars and looking out of the huge windows at the back of the building, with a view to die for, we finally got to see some gray whales on their migratory journey. Spectacular!

Depoe Bay is advertised as the World's Smallest Harbor so I immediately had to quibble with that title as I have personally seen much smaller harbors, both natural and man-made in Cornwall, England; Mousehole, Port Isaac,  Charlestown for starters.

It was certainly a quaint little fishing town. We hoped Depoe Bay's other title, the Whale Watching Capital of Oregon, would live up to its name. As we drove in to town over the arched concrete bridge we immediately saw the whitewashed, one and half story structure that was home to the Whale Watching Center. Located right on the edge of the ocean, perched on the rocky shoreline, almost like the base of a lighthouse, it had huge windows in the large octagonal observation room and an open air observation deck on the roof,  facing out towards the ocean, allowing visitors to comfortably observe the migratory journeys of passing whales directly from the shore. 

We parked facing the ocean and I immediately made my way to the Whale Watching Center to use the toilet. Henry commented once again that I have the bladder of a hamster.

Staffed with knowledgeable volunteers, complimentary binoculars and loads of information about whales and other marine mammals, I took some time staring out to sea, scanning for whales. None had been seen that morning. A white board with local weather, tide times and updates on what had been recently spotted, was most useful. 

I learned that from the observation deck, a wide variety of whales had previously been spotted, about 1200 individual sighting per year;  humpback, gray, minke, even orcas and blue whales had been spotted along with an assortment of dolphins, porpoises and of course the more common sea lions.

Unfortunately, we did not see any marine mammals that day.

We cheerfully walked through the town and Kim bought his now famous grey beanie. It rarely leaves his head and is reminiscent of the headgear worn by Joe Pesci in the movie Home Alone. If ever we are invited to a fancy dress party, Kim and Henry could definitely go as the two bandits, Harry and Marv from that movie. Haha!  "Keep the change ya filthy animal!"

There was a variety of souvenir shops, galleries and many whale watching tour outlets. The sea looked pretty choppy and we watched one boat take a good half an hour slopping about from side to side, lurching this way and that, seeming to make no progress at all at one point,  as it made it's way under the bridge, through the narrow channel and finally out to sea.

We decided that we would not go out in a boat. Henry is afraid of sharks anyway. Cue the Jaws music!

Just a few pics of downtown Newport.

Most memorable were the barking sea lions putting on a show worthy of La Scala.

Ripley's Believe It Or Not! More of that later.

And the magnificent Yaquina Bay Bridge, a metal green arch bridge spanning Yaquina Bay. It is possibly the most recognizable of the iconic McCullough Bridges on the US101 Highway on the coast of Oregon. 

Our interest in visiting all the Oregon lighthouses had not wavered, so we set off to explore the Yaquina Head Lighthouse, just north of Newport.

Built in 1873, the tall, stark, black and white lighthouse was originally called the Cape Foulweather Lighthouse, even though Cape Foulweather was at least 4 miles north of Yaquina Head.  At 93 meters tall, it is the tallest lighthouse in all of Oregon. We watched carefully to catch the pattern, 2 seconds on, 2 seconds off, 2 seconds on, 14 seconds off, of the Fresnal lens, casting its light out to sea.

It was a windy day and the waves were crashing on the rocks below the lighthouse. There are daily tours of the lighthouse but we didn't get to go inside as all the tours were fully booked that day. We enjoyed a blustery walk along the lighthouse trail, spotting some seals and sea lions basking on the rocks in the shelter of a hidden cove to the south of the lighthouse. 

We dropped down into a small and sheltered cove, called Cobble Beach.

Cobble Beach Cove lived up to its name. It was made up of smooth, large cobble stones infinity shades of grey  that lay evenly scattered across the beach. Not a speck of sand in sight. Kim parked himself in a  little heat trap with Ollie to enjoy the late afternoon sunshine.

The cobbles were made for turning ankles, so I very carefully made my way to the nearby tide pools that had children and adults bent over in deep crouches, fingers draping into the pools, small excited outbursts declaring finds of jewel-toned treasures in the clear waters. Henry was watching me and the tide like a hawk, making sure I was safe and not about to be carried out to sea by a rogue sneaker wave, which nearly happened on our last visit to the Oregon Coast. He was genuinely concerned.

​We spent a happy couple of hours relaxing, napping and dabbling about in the tide pools.  We found glossy deep red/purple anemones, some in full flower, some curled tight inside themselves looking like large juicy wine gums. Aggregating anemones looked like delicate pink dahlias waving in the water. We saw snails, ringed limpets, periwinkles, trumpeting tube worms, hermit crabs startled in to walking sideways, striped crabs and flat bodied crabs, shiny mussels glinting blues and silvers, gooseneck barnacles, sea cucumbers, sea slugs and horned nudibranchs.  

I had two absolute favorites. The first was the huge Ochre Starfish. It was enormous! It was a rich shade of dark ochre with lots of knobbles along its fat arms. One of them almost filled a tide pool by itself. Clinging comically to the rocks with arms akimbo, I couldn't help but name him Patrick. My second favorite was the striking Giant Green  Anemone. It too was gigantic in terms of tide pool proportions. A bright, almost luminescent lime green color, you could spot them from quite far away. When fully opened, they were massive, their tentacles waving hopefully in search of algae and micro plankton.

As we were beginning to lose some heat from the sun, after having taken a gazillion photos, we headed back up the steps, out of Cobble Beach Cove and back to the truck. 

We were so fortunate that our RV Site in Newport was so close to Lost Creek Beach, so we spent early mornings and evenings playing by the water.

Once Ollie finds a stick, the fun begins. Henry runs and runs and Ollie scampers after him until they're both smiling happily, panting, with shiny eyes and noses. Ollie is still a little nervous of the water so Henry keeps a close, protective eye on her. He's also very aware of her picking things up off the beach. As a puppy, she loves to find things and have a good chew on them. Watching Henry and Ollie together is pure joy.

I wrote a little message to my darling niece Nancy in the sand, just to say hi. She had been writing messages in the sand that week, back in the UK, so I wrote back to her. She is so sweet.

I like to mooch along the shoreline beach combing and rock hounding. Eyes searching out little treasures. I was hoping to found an old glass buoy washed ashore from local boats, but alas, no luck this time.  I pocketed some agates in warm, earthy shades of gold, amber, and rich bourbon. I was delighted when I found a huge hag stone that looked like a Google marker. I found quite a few more but left them behind on the beach for others to enjoy. 

About a week after our arrival in Newport, a jolly good storm blew through one night, leaving debris; wood and weed on the beach. It also left the beach covered with small blue jelly fish. I had seen something similar on the Morro Strand beach in California. They are called 'velella velella' jelly fish or 'by-the-wind sailors,' seeing as they look like little boats with little blue sails. The entire tideline was deep blue with these jellyfish. And Ollie loved them with the passion of an undergrad slurping down blue jello shots. 

After the first day of sneakily eating a couple of the blue jellies, despite being kept on a tight leash, she was a little bit poorly so we thought she had learned her lesson. She had not. She continued to fervently chase the blue jellies down as if they were the last chip in the bag. All our beach time from that point on meant Ollie was on her leash to prevent her from devouring her favorite little blue snack. 

After a leisurely Thanksgiving dinner of meat and potato pie and lashings of gravy, we were full up to the brim. Black Friday just passed us by. Can't buy anything. Nowhere to put it! Silver linings and all.

By Saturday morning, we were all ready for some fresh air. Sisters had a Thanksgiving Parade and Christmas Tree Lighting planned so I rallied the troops and we set off into town. We parked in front of the Sisters Saloon, home of the now famous Marionberry crumble, adjacent to the Sinclair Gas Station with the green dinosaur at the entrance wearing a Santa hat. The streets were crowded with people wrapped up in their winter woollies; thick coats, hats, colorful scarves and mittens, exhaling misty breath into the air. The temps had plummeted, it was icy on the roads, but it was a clear day with brilliant blue skies.

We got out of the truck, crossed the road, and on the corner of S Fir Street and E Cascade Avenue, an elderly gentlemen with a thick, grey beard and crinkly eyes had a red tagalong bike trailer full of his belongings and a litter of mewling puppies. Henry and I were eager to see them and have a cuddle. Well, as soon as the man unzipped the canvas, Henry popped his head in to take a look, and immediately locked eyes with a brown eyed puppy right at the back who seemed to be the calmest of the litter of five. I can tell you, it was love at first sight for both of them.

We were told the puppies were 10 weeks old and that they were labradoodles. Clearly the man was struggling and the puppies were a burden. They looked very underweight and more than a little unkempt. The man explained their Mom had given birth to them, unplanned, and he was looking to offload them at the parade. As soon as he saw the love in Henry's eyes, he decided a sale was in order.

We walked away. 

Kim and I explained how a labradoodle would grow too big for the trailer, would limit our travels and just wasn't in the family plan. Henry reminded me what we had talked about after our beloved Snowy passed away a couple of years back. If there was a stray puppy or a puppy needing a home, we would adopt them. We literally talked about finding a puppy on the side of the road that might just need a forever home. It's like Henry manifested the entire situation.

We hummed and hawed.

We watched the Thanksgiving Parade.

All that time Henry was begging us to reconsider. He knows his own mind. By the end of the parade we caved and returned to the corner where the grizzly man had been. He wasn't there. We then said to Henry, if you can find him, we will talk to him. Henry dashed off in search of the man and his pupper. He had been gone for ages and finally came back close to tears. I said we should have one last look and have a long walk up and down the crowded streets. Maybe it was meant to be this way.

About half way up the street, I spotted the man ambling down the street pulling his tagalong with his belongings and the puppies. Henry got very emotional. He picked up his brown eyed puppy. I saw love in Henry's eyes. So did the man. Suffice to say, money changed hands, and both parties got an unexpected Christmas gift.

This was our Gotcha Day. The day we got our darling, beloved, beautiful, bouncy, clever labradoodle. It was the day we got our Ollie.

​Best. Day. Ever.

When Dawn retired from Intel, she moved to Bend in Oregon and built her dream home with her husband. She has lived in Bend for a good few years now and considers it home.

The day after our arrival, Dawn popped over to visit us at the trailer and to make some plans. She brought with her two loaves of banana bread and the most delicious English Muffins. Made from scratch!!!! Not only were they delicious, I mean really delicious, I was mightily impressed with the uniformity of all the muffins. They were utter perfection in every way. Dawn could definitely be a professional baker. I'm kinda embarrassed to say that between the three of us, we ate everything by the end of the following day. Everything. We are officially greedy pigs! Sorry, not sorry!

It was lovely to see Dawn. Clearly life in Bend agreed with her. I was once again struck by her thoughtfulness, kindness and gentleness. She is a truly beautiful human being.

Together we made plans to meet up and visit the High Desert Museum the following morning.

Celebrating the local wildlife, history and culture, the High Desert Museum was a gem, sprawling over 135 acres, with exhibits both indoors and outdoors. We began outside and headed straight for the otters exhibit. We saw three of them playing very briefly before they scampered inside to rest. They were so cute. We continued to walk outside on a trail that celebrated the native tribes indigenous to the area and the early pioneers that arrived in Oregon in canvas covered wagons, seeking a better life.

We enjoyed seeing the birds of prey, native to the region, including hawks, eagles and owls of different varieties. At least one of the owls winked at me ;) I was struck at the size and majesty of the bald eagles. They were huge! We tested our own wingspans, but nothing could compare to the condor or albatross. 

Inside there were more animals; small rodents, lizards and snakes. A friendly snake hissed his hellos, but unfortunately I don't speak pareselmouth so I didn't understand the rest of his message. 

One of my favorite exhibits was the wildlife photography of the wolf by world famous photographer, Ronan Donovan.

You can check out his exquisite work at www.ronandonovan.com

The wolf is Kim's spirit animal. Always has been. I enjoyed the artistry of the photographer, particularly the shots taken in my beloved Yellowstone. I could have stared at those images for a loooong time. They were incredible. The drama, the scope, the packs, the survival of the species, all captured beautifully. 

We finished up with a cuppa in the cafe and I bought a topographical, contour map of the Three Sisters Mountains.  

The awe-inspiring Oregon coastline continues to surprise.

Today we headed even further north, hitting central Oregon and Cape Perpetua. The cape was given its name by the British explorer, Captain James Cook, who first saw the headland in 1778 and named it after St. Perpetua the patron saint of peace, perfection and motherhood. 

Inland there were dense forests of impossibly tall Ponderosa Pines, Western Hemlocks and mature Douglas Firs. Low lying wizened Sitka Spruce, shaped and gnarled by high winds and salty sea spray, clung to the bluffs on the towering 800 foot headland jutting out into the Pacific.

The Cape Perpetua Scenic Area covers over 2500 acres of coastal habitat. We were particularly interested in checking out the marine reserve made up of reefs, rock pools, chasms, caves, beaches and unusual rock formations.

To begin, we headed toward's the parking lot at The Devil's Churn. There was a great viewing platform to the north of the lot. We had timed it to perfection as the waves were relentlessly rolling into the deep, narrow chasm below, creating a dramatic churning effect in the water. The swelling waves took on the form of a whipped vanilla milkshake, all milky and frothy, as they surged up the channel, crashing chaotically against the sides of the steep rocks in all directions. The chasm probably started out as a narrow fissure in the volcanic basalt bedrock, or perhaps a collapsed lava tube, and then the violent power of the ocean, terrifying and majestic, pounded its way through, creating a crack in the rocks that could lead down to the Devil himself. We could clearly see how The Devil's Churn got its name. 

We then made our way on the trail down to the lower ledges to get a closer look where we could not only see the strength of the battering ocean against the rocks, but taste the salt in the spray, hear the rolling roar of the waves, and feel the curling swirls of air displaced by the churning water. It was dark down there and a little scary being that close to the untamed power of nature.

We continued round the edge of the opening of the chasm where it met the Pacific and suddenly there were calmer waters and huge rock pools to explore. We found large green sea anemones, ochre starfish, urchins and sea slugs. It was astonishing how the raging chasm was adjacent to the peaceful pools.

Kim stayed to watch the churn a little longer and Henry and I continued to play in the pools. Henry was keeping a beady eye on me and any potential sneaker waves after the Ophir Beach fiasco. He was being very careful and very protective. Very sweet.

Eventually Henry headed off to find Kim and we all lost track of each other. We eventually met up by the truck and headed into Yachats, smack dab in the middle of the Cape.

Yachats was a charming gem of a town. The name Yachats, pronounced Yah-hots, comes from the local native Siletz language and means "dark water at the foot of the mountain." Apt! We parked just past the cove, by a huge whale tail sculpture, on the side of the road. 

We took a leisurely walk through town in the sunshine, stopping at the Little Log Church built in the 1920's. It was undergoing some renovations and the museum was closed so we kept walking, mooching around the shops, enjoying all the sculptures of multicolored sea lions on every block corner. There was fantastic rock, crystal and gem store that took a lot longer to explore. Eventually it was time for lunch and we ate at a lovely family owned diner. 

After lunch we spent time at Thor's Well, Cook's Chasm and The Spouting Horn. Back on the rugged, rocky shoreline, the ocean was throwing up huge waves of spray as it hit the rocks and pools. There were many gullies and chasms slicing through the rocks where the ocean boomed into underwater caves. It was a wild and dramatic landscape. Literally breathtaking.

We spotted Thor's Well, a sinkhole-like feature where the ocean surged beneath the rocks and found its way up and out of a bottomless bowl in the rocks. Every surge and spatter of the rhythmic ocean making its way over and under was spectacular. I practiced taking photos on my iPhone using long exposure to create a flowy effect. I love playing with photos like this.

Nearby was Cook's Chasm, named after the British explorer, another deep narrow gully, but much shorter and without the deep, gorge-like sides of Devil's Churn. The chasm flowed under the concrete arches of Cook's Chasm Bridge, allowing the trust US101 Highway to wind its way through the lower rocky ledges of the cape.

The huge waves rolling into Cook's Chasm carved underwater caves out of the basalt rocks. We could hear the water roaring and reverberating, pounding and crashing with echoing booms. A smallish hole in the rocks above the underwater caves created an outlet for the pressure below, creating a geyser-like fountain of sea spray, like a pressure cooker releasing steam. In my imagination it was a fire-breathing dragon snorting sleepy smoke out of its nostril while curled up in its subterranean cave. Like Smaug. It is known locally as The Spouting Horn.

We stayed for a long time and enjoyed being hammered by the forces of nature.

We began to lose light so we hiked back up to the truck and set off back to the Trailer.

What a phenomenal, memorable day!

After we visited the Sea Lion Caves earlier in the week, we stopped at a roadside pull off so we could take some shots of the Heceta Lighthouse. 

As soon as we got out of the truck we could hear them!

The noise was cacophonous!

Hundreds, possibly thousands, of Stellar Sea Lions were lying on the beach, jostling for position, front flippers flapping, whiskers twitching, lots of territorial teeth baring, snarky barking, honking, snorting, posturing, nudging for comfort and simply flobbing their bellies down on the sand to relax and bask in the late Autumn sunshine.

Many others were splashing about in the bay, surfing the waves, playing games and just joyfully mucking about in the water as if they were teens on Spring Break.   

It certainly made up for not being able to see the sea lions in the massive sea cave.

We stopped and watched for a good hour or so.

​It felt like such a privilege to observe these beautiful marine mammals in their natural habitat.

I've said it before and no doubt I'll say it again, we love these unexpected animal encounters.