Heartbreak was not in the air at the Port Townsend Country Blues Festival. Rather, the converted military base of Fort Worden where the week-long festival is held was alive with the stomping of cowboy boots, the brassy lilting of harmonicas and a little bebop scatting.

The first shows of the weekend took place Friday night in a gigantic converted WWII balloon hanger, known now as McCurdy Pavilion.

Songstress Del Ray began the set. Her limpid voice and soulful guitar were completed by light scatting and ample back and forth between guitar and clarinet. And then a surprise: clarinet mimicries of Australian bird whistles. Fools Night Out with Phil Wiggins’ followed, coaxing the crowd to make their way out of their seats and dance down in front of the hanger.

The final set of the evening was Terry “Harmonic” Bean, of Mississippi. His one man band was incredible: he held the harmonica in his mouth and sang through it into the mike, at times taking it out to sing lyrics that were less expressive than the instrument, the whole time playing guitar. While his full band, who eventually moseyed out onto the stage, were tight and played some solid blues, it was almost a shame to lose the marvel of Bean playing solo.

After the mainstage show was done, the crowd made its way over to Port Townsend’s Victorian-style sea front downtown to listen to some more blues in the local bars. At Water Street Brewing the Gallus Brothers were playing to an empty dance floor. “In Seattle they told us Port Townsend doesn’t dance,” they joked, soon followed by the quip “That coming from Seattle, we were scared.” However, when the bearded, overalled duo whipped out a pair of spoons and began clacking them together as their rhythm section, the dance floor filled up.

Then it was off to Sirens, the second story brick pub (sadly lacking the gigantic paper mache mermaid that used to greet guests at the entrance) with a balcony overlooking the Sound. The packed bar was home to Son Jack Jr., whose lively guitar wafted out onto the balcony. The final set of the night was Alison Radcliffe with Allen Holmes on the bass. Her smoky, anguished vocals, reminiscent of Bessie Smith, filled the night. Eager to see the diva making those heavenly sounds, we crowded inside only to discover a small woman in her twenties belting all the misery in the world into her contralto.

Finally, a little heartbreak. Her voice floated out through the balcony, over the water, and off into the moonlit night.

Photos by Hayley Young.