‘This island raised me’ | Christi Napier

Published 1:30 am Wednesday, March 18, 2026

The interview began with both of us bursting into laughter after the pandemonium of trying to virtually connect at the same time. “Were you waiting for me? I was waiting for you,” one of us laughs. “I was waiting for YOU!” is the reply. We’ve each taken turns throughout the week canceling on the other: sick kids for one of us, a granddaughter refusing to nap, a phone call that went long, a ride needing to be given. The camaraderie of two women spinning a hundred plates with the underlying humor that comes with knowing everything will always work out — because we are the ones who will make it happen.

Truthfully, though, Christi Napier is one-of-a-kind. She is the kind of person who doesn’t just try new things, but does it on a public stage with zero fear. She’s open and authentic and absolutely refuses to stay down.

These qualities are so inherent to Napier that she had no answers when I asked where she thinks her tenacity comes from, or her willingness to risk failure in front of people. “Next question?” I oblige; we move on. A few minutes later, she is telling me the story of how she moved here at 14 to stay with her aunt, who subsequently had to move away due to unforeseen circumstances. This woman (this child, at the time) found a caretaking position so she had a place to live, worked at the donut shop, and put herself through school. Not college, HIGH SCHOOL.

“This island literally raised me,” she said. “People gave me jobs and would come to my school events and sporting events to support me.” When asked if she thinks she got used to that vulnerability feeling at a young age — that maybe the vulnerability helped her instead of hurt her —Napier readily agreed. “Putting myself out there within this community has been part of my life forever.”

Years later, she was working at the ale house in Friday Harbor with two young boys at home as a single mom, when a group of women noticed her elaborate nail art. “You should get your license and do nail competitions!” they told her. A few months later, she had packed up her boys and moved on her own out to Bellingham, where she did just that.

Fingerpaints Nail Salon was created soon after; it started in Surina Business Park, then moved to Spring Street, and finally landed in a studio in Napier’s backyard.

“That was the best way to do it. All three of my boys grew up in that salon. They could probably put a set of nails on you and that’s no joke,” she laughed. “As a matter of fact, I know my middle boy can put a set of nails on you. He’s done it for his girlfriends before.”

These days, Napier’s oldest son lives in Seattle, her middle son is a dad here on the island and her youngest is the full-time driver for her delivery business: You Buy, I’ll Fly. Now in its 10th year, Napier’s delivery business is finally benefiting from the infrastructure she’s spent the last decade building. Merchants are using the service (at no cost to them), the software she’s developed is past the buggy stage and everything is online.

Back when she started, Napier was going door-to-door asking restaurants and merchants if they wanted to use her online ordering delivery service. They’d look up from their pad-and-pencil systems with no idea what she was talking about.

“I handed out my card to people and they would just text me what they wanted and I’d bring it to them,” she remembered. In the meantime, Napier had her own software developed, got merchants on board and is now quite busy, especially with the elderly population and tourists.

A few years later, COVID hit, life happened and Napier found herself doing what most people did during those years — withdrawing from the community.

“It took a couple years to recover from that,” she remembered. “When I opened the cafe, it was really just about getting out of my house and wanting to see people and be part of the community again.”

Enter Island Rise Cafe & Donuts, the breakfast cafe that took over the spot above the ferry landing when Tina’s Tacos closed.

“I felt like I had sunken into this shell and I just wanted to be a part of the community again. Give back,” Napier said. And she did — she learned how to make donuts, and shared the pictures online of the successes and failures.

One early Facebook post featured a grease-smudged photo with misshapen donuts behind a glass case. The caption read, “Feel free to come grab one in the morning, laugh at them (we did) but know they will get better!” They opened April 4, 2025. Donuts were served in May. And in August? The cafe lit on fire.

“The fire was unfortunate, but it’s currently being repaired,” Napier said. “We’re hoping to add donuts to delivery very soon!”

After that response, I had to again comment on her resilience and drive to get back up when she’s down. Napier shrugged it off, as she had many times in our conversation — and, I’m guessing, throughout her very impressive entrepreneurial life.

“You know, life is short,” Napier said. “I feel like you just have to go for it. If it works, it works. If it doesn’t – at least I can say I tried.”