Water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink.
The ancient mariner’s lament was shared hereabouts by not-so-ancient photographer Pete Saloutos, a frequent swimmer at the Bainbridge Island Aquatic Center and among the many patrons dissatisfied with the quality of the pool’s drinking fountain.
Were this the classically earnest editorial endorsement, we would begin with a solemn recital of all the good things to be said about Bainbridge Island public schools – the excellence of the curriculum, the stratospheric test scores, the high number of graduates matriculating to four-year universities, the extraordinary dedication of the teachers and staff, the array of co-curricular activities that channel our kids’ energies to positive ends.
Back in the day, if you wanted to catch a ferry to the mainland, you didn’t have to go much farther than your neighborhood dock.
Pick any year in the pre-Roosevelt half-century – let’s say, 1934 – and Puget Sound was awash in “Mosquito Fleet” ferry routes.
Repetition without solicitude rarely yields results.
Just ask the mischievous student who scrawls line after line on the blackboard with little contrition, save his regret for being caught and punished.
Some routes are going to make money, some routes aren’t.
That’s a simple fact of transportation systems: popular routes will subsidize those less traveled, allowing extension of the system – be it buses, trains or planes – to the farthest reaches of local civilization.