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‘Twas the Night Before Departure
‘Twas the night before departure, when all through the boat Not a creature was stirring, not even the ole goat: The food bins were filled to the brim with care, In hopes, that at dawn, not a space would be bare: The dog, Zig, and capt’n Larry, all snug in their beds, With visions of new journeys dancing in their heads: And first mate, that’s me, too excited to sleep, Was up to late hours, jotting this note to keep, Finally the dawn shown without much clatter I sprang from my bunk, headed up the stair ladder First we got coffee and engines on in a dash, Threw the lines aboard, and off we went in a flash The sea was flat and the sun coming up slow, All a mixture of shades in the sky and sea below, We cut through the water with our bow so clear, Carving flat water as the wakes then appeared. On the bow, ole Zigmeister, so lively and quick, I knew then that this moment was top of the pick. And soon the sea creatures saw us and came, First were dolphins that laid the first claim: Now orcas! Now seals! Now eagles! They’r a fixen,’ To, come on this journey together all mixed’n. To the islands, through tide rapids, to fjord’s tall walls! Bears this way! Otters this way! Squirrels and all! To journey this wild country before snow will fly Avoid all obstacles, rocks, logs, and others that might try. So over the waters that Vancouver plowed through In the Discovery full of sailors, they saw it all too. And then in a twinkling, we heard a big poof! A whale slowly surfaced and breathed out a big hoof! I grabbed my camera that’s usually around But down under he went far down the sound. Covered in barnacles, from his head to his tailfoot, Led us to see an ole totem much covered in soot An image of carved animals perched on each back. A clear magical presence near the dark forest’s back. Nearby, a perched raven watched over it oh so scarry! He screached in delight to see us but told us to be wary! He hovered over the totem so we gave him a bow His job to watch and protect this old totem’s brow Then a strange whistle we heard, it was Queen of The North Only a ghostly image appeared, we begged her come forth! Just a ghost now that fog circles her like a wreath soon she was gone in search for what is beneath She’s was off course in Wright’s Sound, hit a rock on her belly So she’ll always be looking for the two lost souls, so all be wary These waters, though beautiful, can a tragedy to be dealt So we watched as she wandered and I thought to myself. We’ll salute each safe journey as it comes to a head If we are careful and diligent there’ll be nothing to dread We’ll see beauty, the nature, hear the legends and see ghosts But always around the bend, not alone, they’ll be some new hosts It could be fishermen or cruisers, all here for the same reason To enjoy the beauty, the stories, and the characters of each season. So we sprang to the fly bridge and rang out our ship’s bell As a salute that we’re coming, and hope all will be well We can hear Zig on the bow sprit, barking to the raven He too says we’re here to explore this bright new haven.
FIRST BREATHER Well, here we are in Van Isle Marina, just barely north of Sidney on Vancouver Island. The weather is grey and cool and the clouds are curling up on their ends like big puffy rolls. They keep moving closer across the sky as if someone was pulling a big down comforter over us to keep us snug and warm. I’m taking my first breather from all our work of provisioning and getting the boat ready. I came up to the pilot house for a break to just gaze out over the breakwater of the marina. What an amazing view, looking out over Haro Straight to the San Juan Islands. I can just barely see a glimpse of Mount Baker in the far distance still completely white, covered in her winter’s blanket of snow. A few small fishing boats are coming this way, by the channel marker, finally coming back to the little harbor after being out all day. They start at the break of dawn and finally return to port at early dusk. I see them leave each morning as we sip our morning coffee, barely awake, trying to warm up from the chilly morning temperatures that have been hovering in the 50’s.
SUCH A CONTRAST Ahh, how I love the Pacific Northwest. There’s nothing quite like it anywhere that I know or been. It’s such a contrast from our last stop in hideous Fort Lauderdale as it’s so peaceful and quiet and the air is clean and the people quiet and reserved. It’s quite a contrast too from our home town in Santa Barbara. We left a week ago where the temps were warming up to the start of a nice hot summer as the welcoming heat reflected off the Spanish tiled roofs and white stucco buildings. It was a long dreary overcast spring, so when summer finally came around, it was hard to leave, as things began to green up, flowers blossomed and days were sunny and long. Normally we’d be up here by now but this time I got to see my roses come out in full bloom and walk each day up to the Mission to see how the chalk drawings were coming on the asphalt in front of the Mission. It’s called Maronnari and it’s a means to show off artist’s talents each spring. I love all that comes with our summers in Santa Barbara, the festivities, the parades, walks along the beach and most importantly the Big Dog Parade. So this year we delayed our departure until after the Big Dog Parade, June 2nd. Santa Barbara’s next big party will be Solstice and later among others, the favorite celebration of most…. Viva la Fiesta! We though, will be up in this beautiful country of the Pacific Northwest, heading for remote areas, stopping along the way in small seaside villages, eating the fruits of the land, like bumble berry pies, grilled fresh salmon, oysters, Dungeness crab and will fest our eyes on visions of never ending landscapes of forested mountains that drop sharply to the calm protected deep waters of the incredible Inside Passage. We will travel in paths that Captains Vancouver, Cook and Drake explored searching unsuccessfully for a Northeast Passage. We’ll also cross paths of the adventurous gold seekers, the Klondikers, who ventured forth in overfilled and not always sea worthy vessels. They traveled over these same paths that for many centuries were waters only traveled by the First Peoples in nothing but small hand carved open canoes. We will see whales, dolphin, otters, bears, eagles …..well, it will be a feast for our eyes. We will meet interesting people that have decided to live in places so remote that they can only be reached by boat, people who enjoy the simple life and sometimes have to deal with the hard life. We’ll meet fishermen who toil these waters fishing and crabbing in increasing depleted waters, but still carrying on a traditional trade, of hard and sometimes life threatening labor, which many times are unrewarded monetarily but overwhelmed in rewards hard work of a timeless occupation and tradition. Ahh just to dream and think about it, makes all this work getting ready worth impatiently enduring these long work tiring days before we can finally take off. But soon now we will be off, as bins are full of food and staples, the engines are primed, checked and rechecked, the outside is polished and buffed. It’s now that I can take that little breather to actually allow myself to imagine the thrills that will soon be ahead.
LEAVING TORILLAS AND
IMMIGRATION MARCHES We left a week ago, leaving tortillas, avocados and immigration marches, with our rented van, packed to the brim, dog in tow, and a stack of new charts squeezed in. We had one longer than normal stop in Seattle as I got some 24 hour flu. But it gave us some time to stop as we always find ourselves doing, drawn to the Fisherman’s Terminal.
FISHERMAN’S TERMINAL Somehow it’s become a tradition whether we are aware of it or not. We always take some time and walk along the wharf, paying homage to their memorial to the fishermen lost at sea. It’s a sobering sight to see the plaques with the hundreds of names etched on the bronze plaques. It doesn’t matter how many times we come here, each time there is a new one or two recently lost, always marked by flowers, photographs and letters written by families to the lost one, maybe expressing thoughts that they wished they had said in life. All left taped to the monument for all to see, a glimpse inside this personal tragedy. It truly is a sobering sight and makes you appreciate their dangerous life at sea and also reminds you to never, ever take the sea for granted. We always walk the wharves and admire the fishing vessels, never tiring of their beauty no matter how worn or tattered or how bright and shiny, those, that are fortunate enough to have money for fresh paint. We say “hello” to some, who are getting ready like us too, fixing and repairing, and some unloading catches and other loading up provisions for a new trip out. We ask them where they are headed or where they’ve been. Sometimes we are lucky to hear an interesting story or two.
We also like to stop at Chinook’s Restaurant that over looks the fishing boats for the freshest fish around. There’s nothing fancy about the place, just a big building, with open kitchens and lots of windows, and the locals love it. It’s far from the tourist part of town so there are no frills and fancy stuff, just the real thing. Tonight Larry ordered Copper River Salmon cooked on a cedar plank. They said it was the freshest possible salmon you could get and only available for a few weeks. It was delicious, tasting rich like a steak. We love their wedge of romaine with homemade thick chunky blue cheese dressing with whole hazelnuts sprinkled on top. Yumm. (remember to clicl on any small photo to enlage it) VANCOUVER FERRY The next morning we headed north to Vancouver to catch the ferry to Sidney, on Vancouver Island. Luckily we arrived in time to catch the next ferry across without too much of a wait. We drove her on into the dark bottom level and since dogs aren’t allowed in the public areas we stayed in the car with Zig. I was tired anyway so it was a chance to catch a few winks. The ferry was crossing the Straights of Georgia and it felt like a smooth crossing but suddenly the ferry began to swerve and tilt a bit like in what felt like a wake. We decided to head on up with Zig slung over one shoulder to see where we were.
ACTIVE PASS Sure enough we were going through Active Pass, a narrow area between two of the Gulf Islands. It’s what they call a gateway for boats going to and from the Straights of Georgia. As we came up two levels and found an opening to see out another huge ferry passed so close beside us that it was thrilling! We were close to shore and vessels going through this area have to make a couple sharp turns in constricted waters with strong tide currents. Even the ferries have a difficult time here. They have to “go full steam to keep steerageway with the tide” and it can have its dangers. A few years ago, “the huge ferry Queen of Victoria collided here with a Russian freighter, the Sergey aYesenin, and three ferry passengers died”. To some, this is the first experience of many with the rapids on journeys farther north. We stood there in the cold breeze gazing out at the beauty of the area, the sprinkling of islands, and tall mountains in the distance, some with bits of snow still clinging. We saw a seal peep its little shinny wet head up, those two big wondrous eyes looking at us. We’re back, I thought, soon we’ll be out on these waters again.
VAN ISLE MARINA Soon our van’s tired tires headed up the metal treaded ramp of the ferry and onto solid ground of Vancouver Island. Our Marina, Van Isle was only a hop skip and jump away. What a beautiful marina, all freshly painted, newly coated asphalt parking lots with freshly mulched flower beds. We immediately loaded up one of the dock carts for the first of many trips down the long steep tidal ramp to the dock which must be 1/4 mile long out to where the Knotty Dog is docked. We are sure to get our exercise here. We walked and walked and made a couple turns on the docks and soon we saw her, our Knotty Dog that made this journey alone strapped to the top of a freighter, seeing sights that she’ll never be able to tell us. She was covered in young people who were busy washing, polishing and cleaning her. Ziggy recognized the boat immediately. It was as if he knew where she was and why we were here. He turned right at her slip and hopped right on the swim step. That dog is so smart sometimes, way beyond my comprehension. The crew of workers was about the nicest kids around, very diligent, hard working and very polite. We’ve never seen Knotty Dog looking so good. Every square inch was shinning and glowing. We said our “hello’s” and gave them well deserved compliments on the work that they were doing and began to settle in as we have several more days of work getting ready here.
SIDNEY WAS OUR BASE Nearby Sidney served as our base for grocery shopping, dining, and taking breaks. We love Sidney and each time we come it just gets better. They are constantly improving the town, building nice structures, landscaping and planting flowers and every week there’s the fun Farmer’s Markets that everyone enjoys. They have a lot of pride in their small town and it really shows. We always forget how English it is here and in Victoria. We’re always struck by their numerous pubs, well tended gardens, and the ever present small dogs beside their loyal masters: little Scotties, wire haired terriers and Jack Russell’s, all are a frequent site and loyal companions. We see plaids, kilts, bag pipes, and the Queen’s name is on almost everything. The food is not always the greatest as the English and Scots aren’t known for it but we always love to have an excuse for their afternoon tea and who the heck doesn’t like to have some good greasy fish and chips?
These English and Scots are a hearty group and their boisterous laughter surrounds and fills the air everywhere. It’s a bit of a shock from our friends in the south, non smokers, health fanatics, constantly exercising and diligent careful eating and then to be submerged in with a people with their love for their smokes and conversation, their not so heart healthy fish and chips, their pubs filled nightly and brew overflowing. They do love their walks too, but they’re the leisurely kind, not the heart rate kind. They are the social kind, with the little nipper along side and a stop every few yards to chat to their neighbor. There aren’t many cell phones clipped onto ears either or I-Pods stuck in ear holes as the listener is jiving within their insulated space. It’s different somehow here. Hard to compare and explain.
They nicely detailed our boat out, to a cost of a small fortune but she surely needed it after all her cruising and the trip on the freighter through the canal. She’s bright and sparkling now, clean as a whistle. We’re about ready to head out, bins filled with food, engines, checked and rechecked. We’ll be heading to Ganges in the morning to meet our friends the Fipps for a few days before we head north.
SAD THING TO SEE
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