This was the late afternoon fog rolling in from the ocean at Neah Bay, Washington. It was peaceful, with just the sound of the ocean, and incredibly intoxicating fresh air. In the far distance a solitary figure walked along the beach. We'd just made camp at the Hobuck Campground on the Makah Reservation in preparation for a 3 day Baha'i Conference. George set up the sound system underneath a large canopy, and I set up my camp-kitchen under a tree. While he got his music going, I got busy chopping vegetables, slicing fruit for a salad, stuffing a large tilapia with dressing, and grilling some corn and eggplant.
While I prepared our meal (an early dinner at 4:30), I noticed that the campground was filling up very quickly, with surfers, kayakers, fishermen, RV'ers, and scuba-divers. The family camping next to us were fishing for salmon and diving for cod. I'd never heard of diving for cod, so when I asked the fisherman how they do that, I said, "Do you just stab them?" He laughed, and showed me the powerful rods that they use, and said that they spear them! He caught 100 pounds of salmon last year during a two-week stay, with 5 of his buddies bringing in the fish.
Another camper next to us came to surf, as he has for many years. He grew up in Hawaii, and has surfed for 30 years. He said it is enjoyable to experience 'the texture of water', as well as the currants and undertows. Riding the waves refreshes him, and he surfs all year somewhere along the coast.
Hobuck Campground is so remote, in the far northwestern corner of Washington state, that only serious recreationists bother to make the long drive there (ours was a 6 hour drive). The advantage to this, is that everyone comes with the intention of getting out on the waves, or into the water, and very little 'party attitude' permeates the facility. By 9:30 the place was quiet, except for the lovely sounds of a keyboard at the Baha'i enclave and some Native drums and songs.
I've posted all of the photos of our weekend in our Flickr account. However, the following are some of my favorites:
The reverence of these Makah dancers was so touching. They sang a prayer but did not do any dances out of respect for someone in their village who had recently passed away. The entire Neah Bay community shut down all services (stores, etc.) for several hours Friday afternoon so that everyone could attend the funeral.Our host told stories, one of which was about the ancestors who came to this land and made it their home. That was so long ago that the people refer to it as "From time out of memory". They lived a communal lifestyle, in long-houses, and lived off the salmon and the abundant berries and roots in the forest. They shared their food and looked after each other's families, being like one family, one heart.
It is always an honor to experience the reverence in Native people, in their simple words and heart-felt stories. For me, it resonates in the most natural, deep way, as if someone was finally speaking my language. It made me feel like I was finally 'home', with my true family, living the way we were meant to live. When they told their stories they spoke with respect for the land and the ocean, which gives them their sustenance. Our host acknowledged with respect all the residents of Neah Bay who allowed us to visit their home.
Baha'is sang songs, chanted Persian prayers, told stories of their service in foreign lands, and spent hours together every evening around a Council Fire. I took a turn roasting a couple of marshmallows, and the group of onlookers said that mine were the best they'd ever seen. Well, one just has to squat down close to the fire so the stick is pointed upwards, and be patient so that they will not burn. Otherwise, the melted part will side off the stick. The kids had the worst time waiting for the marshmallows to soften and brown. Instead, they charred the outside quickly, and gobbled them down. 
This girl worked on her drum decorations. Other children were instructed in mask-making. They put them on, tying them under their chins, and pretended to be ravens, wolves, whales and bears. 
Native people came to visit their relatives. They pitched tents close together and had bonfires going into the night, and enjoyed hot dogs roasting on long sticks. Children laughed and played in the shadows where their dogs were tethered. 
Tents in the forest, near the ocean. In the early morning the crows and ravens called to one another. They were a loud rowdy bunch, waiting for us to start breakfast so they could eat some of the scraps. I had to learn the hard way to keep my garbage pail covered. We were so fortunate to have good weather for our trip - fog in the morning and early evening, but sunshine and balmy temperatures during the mid-day.
We walked along the beach and enjoyed the fresh salty air and warm sunshine. 
I love this little house in Clallam Bay, on main street, (which is so short you'll miss the house if you blink). After I saw it, I asked George to drive back, so I could really appreciate the efforts of the gardener who made this nasturtium bed so charming.
Next door was a delightful Bed and Breakfast.
