Coupeville Sports

“How you doin’?”

Let’s go ride the roller coaster.

“I licked a mussel … ooh, gross!!”

Why do you go swimming in Penn Cove (in just a swimsuit) four days before Halloween?

For the weird looks from people in passing cars when you emerge at the top of the Hill O’ Death on your way back home, that’s why.

“Hit the gas, George!! And lock the doors!!! He … he’s … DRIPPING!!!!!!”

Good times.

Day 196 in the (slightly) frigid waters of my home away from home was your normal experience.

Choppy water, a breeze that had the back of my neck clenching every two seconds, a few random seals walking by, clad in fur coats (“I’m not gettin’ in that water, no sir!!”) and a random pair of old, brown swim trunks washed ashore, speared on a low-hanging tree branch.

Having checked to make sure my more Hawaiian-looking trunks were still attached to my body (they were, right beneath the multiple rows of goosebumps on my bare chest — wet suits are for tourists), I had no clue what to make of the lost suit.

In three years, I have never seen a single other person in the water that wasn’t high and dry in a kayak.

So, I’d like to think there’s a guy in Japan right now trying to get out of the water, minus his suit, cursing that last wave that ripped away his lower body covering.

Yep, that’s probably it.

Or, there’s a dead body out there somewhere in Penn Cove, floating ever closer to me each day, destined to one day wash up just like the hapless suit.

Comforting.