Like
many contemporary boaters, Jan and I enjoy imagining the San Juans as
they must have existed 50 or 60 years ago. Before they were "discovered"
by visitors like ourselves and when every little shoreside community
wasn't overwhelmed with Sno-cone vendors, T-shirt dealers and plastic
knick-knack impresarios.
A visit to the hamlet of Olga, just "far
enough" south of Rosario Resort on Orcas Island, provides a glimpse
of that simpler and less hectic time. The community maintains a transient
moorage float during summer months only, located near 48° 37.00'
N and 122° 50.21' W. The modest float will accommodate two 50-footers,
or a greater number of smaller boats. Neighbouring mooring buoys and
a smaller dock just north of the Olga community float are all privately
owned, but reasonable anchorage is close by.
Boaters arriving by dinghy should consider using the dinghy rack provided
in the centre of the float. We arrived to find just enough space on
the float to moor Indulgence, and we immediately discovered the community
float is a recreational resource for island residents. Several young
women, slathered with oil, had stretched out on the dock to improve
their nut-brown tans. The young women had chosen bathing attire aggressively
designed to expose to sunlight the maximum legal amount of skin. Jan
pretended not to notice me as I pretended not to notice the sunbathers,
and we secured our lines.
Great
Grandma's antique kitchen gadgets compete for shelf space with the new
cookware, essential oils and palmistry textbooks.
A sign at the top of the gangway suggests that day-use boaters should
observe a two-hour limit and notes that boats remaining overnight will
be charged 25 cents a foot. The hand-painted sign appears to be several
years old, and 25 cents a foot is certainly one of the cheapest 
public
moorages any place in the San Juans. One almost wonders if the harbourmaster
is postponing a rate increase until the paint wears off the shingle.
There is no shorepower or water on the Olga float.
The Olga Store and Café is just
ashore from the pier: a rustic, white structure perhaps a century old.
The name "Olga" has been laid in contrasting three-tab on
the dark green roof. Those who venture into the store must be willing
to participate in a bizarre but joyful dream. An avant-garde Italian
filmmaker would find a ready-made set here. The exterior of the business
is no-nonsense, American Gothic functional, while the eclectic décor
and inventory is well described by owner Shelly M. as "basically,
a sort of French Chinese."
Flexible paper lanterns, adorned with scrapbook cutouts of Hummelesque
French courtiers, hang throughout the Olga Store's dining area. Asian
masks, finished with coloured lacquers that would intimidate a macaw,
peer into the room from odd angles. Great Grandma's antique kitchen
gadgets compete for shelf space with the new cookware, essential oils
and palmistry textbooks. In the centre of the store was a prominent
display of many dozen intensely yellow lunchboxes, apparently imported
from Asia. Each box depicted two Chinese women in ceremonial gowns,
surrounded by cockroaches and other bugs. Additional drawings and a
Chinese script seemed to indicate the lunchboxes were simultaneously
advertising both an insecticide and a malt beverage.
Hungry boaters can enjoy a splendid meal
at the Olga Store. Shelly and her husband, Mike, are veteran restaurateurs
and they feature fare as unexpected as the décor. The menu changes
as different foods are in season, but in late July, the menu featured
a broad selection of fresh salads and seafood. Dinner entrées
are priced between $19-25.
Jan and I didn't stay for dinner, but we wanted to sample the fare.
We examined the menu, while Jan enjoyed a black tea with a berry flavour
and I savoured a cup of excellent coffee. We concluded that we would
split a strawberry shortcake.
The shortcake was glorious! Strawberry
purée and a field of powdered sugar decorated opposite halves
of the dessert plate. A sweet pudding was sandwiched between two wedges
of locally baked almond shortbread. Bright, sweet berries were heaped
on and topped off with a generous dollop of freshly whipped cream. Jan
initially declined comment when I positioned the wide end of the shortcake
slice just below my hovering fork. After the first wonderful bite, she
became territorial about her rightful half of the snack and good-natured
negotiations were required to avert an otherwise certain boundary dispute.
Although
such a sight might be common enough, it seemed somewhat odd that the
harvester would be standing several feet above the ground between two
rows of lettuce.
We exited the store and strolled along Olga Road, passing neatly maintained
but humble homes and a roadside garden. In the midst of the garden,
we noticed a figure in a broad brimmed hat, holding a large basket and
balancing on a stepladder. Although such a sight might be common enough,
it seemed somewhat odd that the harvester would be standing several
feet above the ground between two rows of lettuce. A second glance confirmed
that the motionless shape was a very convincing scarecrow. (There wasn't
a crow in sight.) A six-foot wire fence surrounded the garden, so we
speculated that perhaps the effigy performed double duty as a "scaredeer,"
(providing there are still any deer on Orcas Island even the least bit
afraid of people).
After about a five-minute walk inland from the store, Olga Road reaches
an intersection where a 65-year old barn is a popular attraction.
During the 1920s and '30s, Orcas Island
was the site of a flourishing commercial strawberry industry. The "berry
barrelling barn" was erected in 1938. Trucks and horse-drawn wagons
would haul fresh berries here to be cleaned, sorted, sugared and packed
into wooden barrels. The original slide-weight freight scale remains
in place, just inside the front door. The berry barn enjoyed a few short
years of activity before the berry industry declined in the 1940s. Military
service and defence industry opportunities eliminated most of the casual
harvest labour previously available to island growers. In 1943 and 1944,
Natives from Vancouver Island came to Orcas to work the strawberry harvest,
but commercial strawberry production declined rapidly after World War
II and the barrelling barn sat empty.
In 1982, an artist co-operative opened an "art barn" in the
building, and the co-op continues to thrive 20 years later. The co-op
also runs a café, which is reputed to be very good, at the same
site.
Everything displayed in the art barn
is well done or better. One of the co-op members told us that a "jury"
examines the work of applicants and decides which artists will be invited
to join the co-op. Members are then expected to volunteer and staff
the gallery a certain number of hours each month. Some exceptional wooden
furniture impressed me, as well as some handcrafted jewelry. Jan bought
a handsome, handcrafted paper card to mail for a friend's birthday.
I picked up a folksy CD recorded by local musicians to benefit Orcas
Island charities ("The Olga Symphony - Seriously?").
Mindful of the harbourmaster's two-hour
request, we ambled back to Indulgence just in time to relinquish our
spot to an arriving fisherman. We had so much fun during our two-hour
stay at Olga; we gathered an entire day's worth of happy memories. When
next we visit Olga, we have resolved to stay overnight and discover
whether the rest of the cuisine at the Olga Store is as sensational
as the shortcake. 
