Every summer the San Juan Islands attract tourists from afar, eager to witness their beauty.

Hilltops crescendo into the sky and fall suddenly to the water. Life flourishes among the Evergreen trees and pastures of the San Juan Islands, nestled between Canada and Washington state.

I grew up on the third-largest island, Lopez, and rode a ferry to a school on San Juan Island. The magnificence of the island landscape eventually became as mundane as the buildings that pass by a school bus rider’s window in the city.

A couple of my friends asked if I would serve as their guide on a visit to the San Jauns. The experiences I’ve had as an island local are very different, I expect, than the ones visitors have. I decided to show them the same islands that tourists go to see.

The journey

There are many ways to get to the San Juans. Kenmore Air takes off from Lake Union, the Victoria Clipper docks on the Seattle waterfront, and the ferry sails from Anacortes. We brought a car from Seattle and boarded an early-morning ferry bound for Friday Harbor on San Juan Island, the most populated island.

I started talking to tourists on the ferry to understand why so many were drawn to the islands.

“It’s so beautiful and green,” said Nicole Tamaro, visiting from Long Island, N.Y. “It’s so different from the East Coast.”

“But we are only up for the day,” added her husband, Sean Tamaro. “We are going whale watching.”

My friends had to be back in Seattle the next day as well, which would make it impossible to see everything. Along with the other visitors on the ferry, we were not on “island time” yet.

Island time

Days seem to pass much more slowly in the San Juans than in the city.

“It begins with the ferry,” said Holly Bower, the owner of Holly B’s Bakery on Lopez Island. “Sometimes the ferry is late, and you have to wait hours to get here. It gets you into a slower pace.”

It is not uncommon to see locals just hanging out, apparently unfamiliar with packed schedules and busy days. To them, there is no better way to be spending their time.

When I asked a friend of mine, Joey Stanley, what he was up to, he replied, “Chilling — what else do you do on Lopez?”

Traveling to the islands may be quaint for some tourists, as if traveling to a time when things were simpler. But the islands have changed, said a ferry worker who grew up on Lopez from the 1950s to the 1970s.

“I remember when people traded chickens, fished and were carpenters,” Chris Nichols said. “Now it has changed. There are a lot more people and affluence. “

“But in the summertime there is no better place,” he added. “No place matches.”

The sun was rising as we spoke, bouncing off the waves and illuminating the islands. I knew exactly what Nichols meant.

The islands

We walked around Friday Harbor on San Juan Island and contemplated renting kayaks or mopeds. Neither fit our time constraint or student budget. Instead, we decided to drive to the west side of the island.

We started at Cattle Point, which is the most southwestern part of the island, offering stellar views of the Olympic Mountains and the surrounding Sound. It was home to an American encampment during the Pig War of 1859.

On June 15 of that year, an American settler shot a pig belonging to the British. As a result of the porker, the two nations were on the precipice of war. Fortunately, the only casualty was the pig, and the dispute ended with the islands in the hands of the United States.

We spent time enjoying the nearby beach before leaving to explore other parts of San Juan Island.

We checked out Lime Kiln Point, which is frequented by whales, but seeing none we drove to Roche Harbor Resort.

The resort is like nothing else on the island. One of my friends said it is like Disneyland, with rows of houses and giant yachts as gross displays of wealth. This was not the San Juan Islands I knew.

In Roche Harbor I met a group of college-aged girls who voiced their frustration with being visitors on the islands.

“We go into town everyday to hang out,” said Colleen Wilson from Saint Andrews College in North Carolina. “We’ve been trying to get to know the locals.”

“We clearly don’t belong,” added Grace Hazeltine, a student at Grinnell College in Iowa.

The community

My friends were surprised at how close-knit the island community is. As we traveled around San Juan and later boarded a ferry for Orcas Island, locals who recognized me would stop and ask how things were going at the UW. They filled me in on the local gossip and what had happened on the islands since I left.

This means that everyone knows everything that is going on, and while growing up I was amazed at how fast word spread around the islands. It was nearly impossible to keep secrets.

One visitor I talked to homed in on what makes the island community unique.

“You rely on your neighbors,” said Deborah Maloney from Salem, Ore. “There is a common mutual interdependence. This allows for a more human environment.”

Having lived on Lopez for nine years, I was surprised by her understanding of the island.

We spent the night on Orcas, camping under the stars in Moran State Park. It was with Maloney’s words in mind that I realized what makes the San Juan Islands distinct from what we had seen during the day. Trying to see the islands through the eyes of a tourist opened my own eyes to the islands’ character. It was the human environment that made growing up on the islands special.

My best advice to visitors to the San Juan Islands would be to let go. Give in to island time and the island way of living. Get to know the community, and a whole other world will emerge.

“The rules are different,” Maloney said. “You have to come with the goal to not control the environment but to interact.”