By M.L. LYKE
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER REPORTER

It's not only students who have to leave. Increasingly, poorer families are taking a one-way boat ride to the mainland.

San Juan County -- where population has increased more than 200 percent since 1970 -- has the highest property values in the state. On Orcas, the average cost of a house is around $250,000 -- a figure skewed by seven- and eight-figure properties purchased by high-tech millionaires, chief executives of large companies and wealthy retirees looking for an island idyll.

Many locals who bought their property 10 years ago could no longer afford even the down payment on it now.

While the county ranks second statewide in per capita personal income -- first for the percentage of income derived from dividends, interest and rent -- it also has the second lowest wages of any county in the state.

"In most other places, tourism is a start-out job. Here, it's a way to stay here, and some people end up with a pretty marginal, difficult life," says Evans.

Cost of living on the island is high. Gas can run 50 cents or more a gallon more than on the mainland and an off-season ferry trip is up to $15.75. Rents on a two-bedroom house -- in the unlikely event that you find one -- are more than $700. Families struggling to get by may juggle a patchwork of jobs. Some end up living in campers with no indoor plumbing, or pitching tents in the state parks.

It's a sobering economic picture.

"The big difference between Orcas today and 25 years ago is the pace of life," says Ted Grossman, managing editor of The Islands' Sounder newspaper. "Our tourist magazines may describe this as a laidback, relaxed place to put your feet up on the table and stare out at the water, but if you're not retired and don't have money in the bank, it's a bunch of bull."

And while there's almost no violent crime, statistics on domestic violence, Child Protective Services referrals and substance abuse among youths exceed state averages. "This is not a place to escape, not a place to come to work on your marriage or relationship. A beautiful place doesn't fix your life," says Victoria Parker. "Every social problem exists here."

As Kermit says, its not easy being green. But on an island with a big heart and a head full of ideas, many locals are confident they can find ways to keep the Orcas soul intact.

"I think that there is a spirit here that will guide us. There's an unconscious thing that happens, and it keeps the island clean and honest and safe," says Fred Enge, talking over a brew at the Lower Tavern in Eastsound -- formerly a medical center.

Enge, in gray ponytail, has a familiar island profile. A graduate of the San Francisco Art Institute, he works out his aesthetics painting canvas, his economics painting houses. He volunteers in intervention programs at the grade school, is in the Mentor Program and is joining the School Board. He is an active Odd Fellow, always willing to raise a barn or pitch in to build a ramp for the handicapped.

And no matter what happens on this island, he says, he intends to stay.

"This place called my name. I'd never leave it, despite all the struggles and uncertainties," he says.

"When I punch in my ticket, they can bury me in my own back yard."