Henry (part 2)

From Seattle international airport you have little choice about the way you travel to the city. The train/monorail link is still under construction and not expected to be operational until next year so you are left with a choice of taxi or other wheeled vehicle which will by default deliver you to the city by travelling down Interstate Highway number 5.

As you approach the city, unless you are very attentive you will not notice the water of Elliott Bay – there are only two glimpses accorded and but your attention is distracted by the cranes of the container terminal, the two sports stadiums and then the skyscrapers of downtown.

I was lucky this morning in taking the taxi for the return journey when the driver chose to start the trip on route 99 and approach the airport from the west. We drove out along side the water, close up to the cruise ship terminal downtown and up over the container waterway.

Elliott Bay is the best part of this city, though it doesn’t dominate perception in the way the bay does in San Francisco, It remains glimpsed unless you go out on one of the ferries or across the bridge to West Seattle and Alki Beach.
Or go down the hill, past the Space Needle through the outdoor sculpture park that lies on the hill overlooking the waters of Elliott Bay to Peer 70.

The sculptures are functional, colourful and large – I did not find them emotional, but the seats and benches of the park are unparalleled for contemplating life, all its meanings and the distant peaks of the Olympic Range.

Down at Pier 70 a gushing fountain and some giant concrete eyeballs mark the start of Elliott Bay Park – a “Public Shoreline Access” A footpath and cycleway lead off alongside the water towards the distant Grain Silo. When the weather is clear, as it has been for most of the last two months the space between sea and sky is uplifting and the fresh ocean smell permeates the noise of the city.

Out on the bay a cargo ship or two wait for access to unload grain, the ferries silently glide across to the islands, someone kite surfs and a sailing boat might pass. One morning swimmers were gathered on one of the small beaches engaged in a competitive venture that entailed entering the icy shallows, submerging enough to fill blue plastic funnel attached to their heads and return to fill white plastic tubs on the sand. A small crowd of dogs and their walkers watched in puzzlement.
Further along, past the pier where the grain is unloaded, you will come to the fishing jetty – a series of shelters on a deck above the Salmon runs. Gulls call, if you are on a bike swallows will dart alongside and at one end the Canadian Geese gather on an open field. But the best thing about the park, apart from the space, solitude and air are the benches.

This is the best place In Seattle to sit.

It has been difficult for me to find someone in Seattle called Henry, something I thought would have been easy. It seems that Henry is a very old fashioned name, people today get names like Precious, or Madison, Loui made a friend called Summer, and one of the children backstage, two years old and learning a mixture of German (parental) English, Russian and Chinese is named August. So Loui started by meeting August and ended up kissing summer.

My dad’s name was Henry, Herbert Henry but as far as I know he never made it to Seattle. He spent some time in Miami or nearby, training with the US air force prior to World War 2 but I can’t find anything that connects him to this city.

But what would a challenge like this be if it weren’t challenging?

I came to Elliott Bay Park often; daily sometimes as its freedom was a literal breath of fresh air. I spent time sitting and meditating, reading and writing. I checked out each of the benches for the best view. I met people here, some completely mad but I always tried to find a Henry.

I cycled past the fishing jetty, The Happy Hooker bait shop, along side the railway tracks and even out as far as the marina at the end of the trail. And I read every sign, dedication and notice; some of the benches have dedications to departed loved ones. I even asked owners their dogs’ names. Was there a Henry among them? No.

Somewhere near the Grain Silo, an immense concrete bastion that dominates the shore view from see in a way that the revolving illuminated retro globe doesn’t (although apparently it is the fluorescent & of the sculpture park that is used by shipping) there is a plaque that commemorates the founding of the park. There are five names on the list and the fourth is Henry L. Kotkins and we should thank him for his sterling achievement.

However, it is the fifth name on the list that should remain immortal.