I grew up on Puget Sound, with a pair of rowboat oars in one hand and a fishing pole in the other. One morning, at daybreak, I was slow trolling off of Alki Point, just as the sun was beginning to burn through the fog. I was alone on the water and the silence was deafening. Suddenly I heard the sound of a bagpipe ... coming from the high hill at the point. The sound was awesome ... powerful ... and slowly drifted away. I rowed home. Bob(deckman)Nelson