Many years ago I was traveling on the ferry between Tsawassen and Victoria. I don't remember where I was going, or for what purpose, but I was alone. The sun was rising in a beautiful clear summer sky and the light was that precious early morning gold, where everything is lit at a low angle with a creamy warm glow.
Active Pass was gorgeous - it was slack tide and the water was smooth.
There was an audible collective gasp as a topsail schooner, the Robertson II, rounded the head, sails full, ahead of the ferry. It was so stupidly beautiful and magical that it was over the top ridiculous.
That first evening on Grayland Beach was like that.