From his living room window, Victor Coster, 75, watches the ferry boats come and go in Port Townsend harbor, and the sea traffic chug through Puget Sound on the way to Seattle.

He notes that some irony lies behind the ships passing by Port Townsend. Early settlers once hoped this sheltered harbor would become the capital of Washington and a major seaport of the West Coast.Ships sought refuge in the protected harbor since 1592 when Juan de Fuca sailed the waters and named the strait. Some 200 years later, Captain George Vancouver gave the port its name in honor of the English Marquis of Townsend. Chetzemok Indians retained the territory until disputes were settled in 1856. In 1890, hopes rose high that this would become a major city.

But by 1929 when Coster came here as "tough young cowboy" from a desert Idaho ranch, the founders' dreams were dashed. All that remained of their hopes for a major city were impressive Victorian homes and business establishments they had built during the most opulent period of their aspirations.

Their dreams evaporated around the turn of the century when the transcontinental railroad ended at Seattle, instead of at Port Townsend on the western side of Puget Sound. Since that time, the ships - and major growth - have just passed by Port Townsend. The town is actually smaller now than it was a century ago.

But though major commerce never prospered in Port Townsend, the Church has. Prayers of members for Church growth have been richly answered. So were Brother Coster's fervent prayers for an active LDS wife.

Both the plea for the Church and his personal plea were eventually answered about the same time. Today, Port Townsend has a flourishing ward of some 420 members.

His history and the ward's history are intertwined. He was born in Burley, Idaho, where his father worked on a farm as a carpenter and farmhand. When he was 5, his father died, and his mother provided for him and his three brothers.

"We made a garden on the eight acres we owned and we boys went to work on ranches nearby," he recalled. "We were cowboys. I was a very young cowboy. We ate jack rabbits, pheasants and what we could grow. When cattle and sheep herds would come through, we would follow and pick up the newborns and stragglers before the coyotes got them. Somehow, with hard work, we survived," he said.

He was baptized when he was 12. "In 1929, when I was 14," he said, "my mother married again. We were soon on our way to Port Townsend. Before we came here, we went to Salt Lake City, where we stopped to see the temple. I wanted to go in, but couldn't - tears came to my eyes. That was the first time I had cried since I was a baby. I guess I had a testimony, but I still thought I was a tough cowboy."

Port Townsend brought a big change to the family. No chapel, not even a branch or other members were here. "I did feel the Lord had something in mind for me because I had survived so many accidents with horses, rivers and mountains," he said.

But with no contact to the Church, he slipped into inactivity. He married at age 20, but after a few years, he and his wife separated, leaving him with two young daughters to raise. As the girls grew up, his thirst for spirituality returned.

"I had a real serious prayer," he said. "I promised to serve the Lord, and prayed for a good Mormon woman who would be active. The Spirit was strong. I knew He heard me."

This prayer was answered, but not immediately. In fact, not until five years later when his oldest daughter, Gloria, married. Her husband's mother, Verna Haapala Atkins, was widowed, and she and Brother Coster began dating.

"I said there was something I really must tell her," he recalled. "I told her, `I'm a Mormon, and I'm not about to quit."

"Oh, no! Not a Mormon!" she said and began to cry. Her tears were tears of joy, not distress. She told him she was a newly baptized member of the Church.

"I told her about the prayer," he continued. "Verna and I were married Dec. 23, 1957."

Just two days later, on Christmas Day, missionaries came by knocking on doors, learned they were members, and asked the couple to help start a branch. They agreed.

"I didn't have much training," he said. "But soon Verna had six callings and I had six and a half. I was half-time janitor."

A missionary couple soon arrived, and within a few months 47 members were attending branch meetings. At first, Brother Coster felt he wasn't qualified to be branch president, but he was called to serve in that position. Since then he has served in many callings, including serving in the bishopric, and filling three local missions.

"Our dream of a ward has come true, and we continue to grow," he said.

Difficult times returned for him in 1988. In the spring of that year, he and Sister Coster made a fishing trip, one of their favorite pastimes. While they were on the boat, she became ill and they had to make a quick return. They learned that she had cancer, a fast-acting type of the disease. In mid-summer, she died in his arms. Her last request was that he not wait long to find another companion.

Later, attending a single adult activity, he met Dorothy Cron Ison. The couple was married, and now they enjoy spending time fishing, gardening and doing temple work. And, of course, helping the ward as needed.

"Port Townsend didn't become the center of commerce that people once thought it would," he mused. "But the Church has grown, and it will continue to grow."