Tacoma has a ‘working port.’ What if we had a playing port? I saw it in my dreams | Opinion

We have a “working port.”

But what if we had a “playing port?”

I had a dream recently — about the Port of Tacoma.

But it wasn’t the port many of us see, drive by or even work with — it was a child-sized version of those familiar rails, cranes and ships.

What I saw was a miniaturized version of a working port with remote-controlled or hand-operated cranes, trucks, trains and ships.

Kids (of all ages) were working the controls of small-scale port with a hands-on sense of what it takes to transport, load, ship and, in most cases, transport again, all kinds of things to (and from) all kinds of places.

As we adults might know, our local port employs thousands of people directly and many more thousands indirectly — but how many of us know what it takes to actually get everything from apples to automobiles from their sources to those who want them?

The playground port from my dream was an enjoyable way to see and experience how many steps (and hands) are involved in getting those products from around the world into our waiting homes, hands and garages.

What I saw was not a “working port” — it was more like a working park or a playground.

And it would all be a natural fit for our neighborhood.

From academic programs like SAMI or IDEA to Metro Parks to the Maritime Museum to youth programs like Tacoma Boat Builders or Youth Maritime Collaborative to Communities for a Healthy Bay, and many more, it would be easy to say that not only are the local waterways in our city’s blood — they are our blood.

The waters, after all, were the primary means of trade and transport for millennia — long before freeways, airports and light rail — and, presumably, will be in use long after those means of transit have outlived their usefulness.

Even air travel, once considered the ultimate “modern” form of travel, thanks to pandemics, security, environmental concerns and, more recently, safety concerns, has lost much of its gloss and appeal.

In other words, there are few things both more enduring and more practical in our region than a working knowledge and appreciation of our waterways.

Caring for our waterways, even as we use them on a regular basis, is a gift to ourselves as much as it is to anyone else.

After all, who among us doesn’t appreciate or even stand in awe at the many water vistas we have from hilltops to office suites to neighborhoods all over the South Sound.

One of the ironies of the relationship most of us have with the water is that we may see it often, go out on it (by boat or ferry) occasionally but go into it rarely.

There’s a reason for that, of course. No matter what season, the water temperature barely changes — it is always chilly — but that, too, for some, carries its own appeal. You can check out (or even join) those who dare to enter those frigid waters.

The water frames us and defines us. It is our connection to the larger world even as it seems to keep us from it.

“Where rails meet sails” was a phrase that was used to distinguish Tacoma as a city in its early years, well over a century ago. We don’t use that term much now, but transit, for work or travel, especially wrapped around water, still defines and embodies who we are.

I can’t think of anything else that we all, the young and the not-so-young, should have a working knowledge of, and even a playful appreciation of, it would be the waters all around us.

“Water is life” is a well-used phrase — but it’s certainly true. Other areas have culture and history defining waterways from the Nile to the Euphrates or the Amazon, but we have water above, below and around.

From the snow-capped mountains around us, to the rivers and lakes and the water that literally falls out of the sky, water is, in fact, life and commerce, and, for those who can appreciate it, endless wonder and entertainment.

As with everything else in and around Tacoma, “playing in the water” has a whole new meaning here.

Tacoma’s Morf Morford is a writer, teacher, word nerd, 98% vegan, listener, community storyteller, poet and advocate of the oddities of earthly existence. He considers himself a scavenger of the unlikely.

This story was originally published May 15, 2024 at 5:00 AM.