Wednesday, July 29, 2009

29 July 2009 - Getting my back back...


This is Todd Inlet BEFORE the squall; pretty lurid sky, the first big raindrops are falling.
This is Todd Inlet AFTER.
Next morning, innocent peace, and the last bit of mist still ligering in the inlet, before it turned again into a furnace.
Temperatures between 28 and 30 degrees celsius ever since.
It looks spacious and empty here, but most of the dragged boats are 'behind' me.
Too busy the night before to photograph 'the fireworks' and the tangle of boats, so that is left to imagination.
Use of my back is slowly returning....with luck it will stay 'put' when I weigh anchor in a couple of days.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

25. to 26. July 2009, The Night worthy of Hollywood Thrills

That flaming red sky with sulfuric yellow undertones, after looking at pure blue up there since weeks, looked ominous to me.
Check the anchor rode, check what's anchored near my swinging room, put up the canvas enclosure. On deck, the first heavy droplets started their tentative drumming.
Saturday Fireworks evening, the Inlet is packed with boats, everyone either waited on their boats for the fireworks to start at dusk, 21:45, or had dinghied to Butchard Gardens to watch them on land. They were iin for a wet pleasure.
Rumbling in the sky, no lighting to be seen - the air looked thick and smelled weird. It started to rain heavily.
I bedded down, the cannonade of exploding fireworks would alert me to 'the action'.
Yes, at 21:45 (quarter to ten, darker than usual) the first fizzly burst of colour fought against the rain.
Not much to see, back to bed until the Grand Finale, no one can sleep through that noise anyway.
Suddenly I felt the boat heel steeply and a noise unlike any fireworks, but more like a agonized moan, filled the air. Then the squall hit full force, not with benign 30 knot winds either...
Time to put on real clothes, foul weather jacket, to check things out above. As I do that in the dark (preserve night-vision etc) I could see through the porthole: something white slipping by about a foot away, sounds of whistling, shouting, more hollering, wind howling, fireworks bursting...the 'action' had started.
Turn on engine, VHF radio (channel #16: Bayliner aground in Sidney Spit, anyone who can render assistance...Victoria Coast Guard....) spreader light, anchor control, GPS (for drag) Depth Sounder (for grounding), all in seconds, up into cockpit, take down enclosure (it ripped), look at a raft of two sailboats a couple of inches beside me - closing in for collision - move to bow, see their anchor line draping itself over my suspended chain (being hooked in progress), all of us moving down-squall with my anchor fighting against the pull of three boats. Another boat, no one aboard, sweeps by. Upwind powerboat rafts tied to shore in a tangle, opposite a boat ashore with its mast hooked into trees and its keel stuck (falling tide, too), bedlam, shouting, screaming squall, thunderous fireworks - oh, shit.
Fend off, bring up search light, (only one in inlet) check drift (further into inlet, but apparently stopped - ah, my luverly overkill ground tackle!!), now hull to hull with raft, squeeze a couple of fenders in between, shout at them: 'put engine on and separate raft, hold boat into wind!' no reaction, chaotic zigzagging of our now 3 boat raft.
I shout, 'might have to borrow one of your crew, to help me out'. Tender maneuvres to my 'free' side, skipper accompanied by spare crew of one of loose boats, asks me: 'Do you know how to handle a boat, is your engine running?'
Not the right time to give lessons on anchoring, although I was sorely tempted.
Tanya, the borrowed crew climbed aboard, barefoot but with lifejacket. I lengthened, shortened chain -to loosen things up down there, and people on the still joined boats started to heave at their anchor rode. I shone my high beam into the water to see where it led to (right under my keel), Tanya - hanging from my bow, to fend their bows off, boats reacting to changed tension. I shortening chain (to help along, as combined weight of my hooked chain, their anchor, was too much to haul in without a winlass on their part) My electric winch groans, stops - their anchor must have pinned my chain into the sea floor - I crouch down, winch by hand (put my back out), my chain is immovable. Fireworks come to grand finale, huge colourful burst over the tree tops, accompanied by crescendo of explosive noise to almost drown out all the hollering in the inlet.
Time for the absent skipper's return to find their boats.
I wait a few seconds, try electric winch again (those bare feet of Tanya were giving me the willies, amidst all that anchor stuff) chain comes up. Good, at least it's free of seafloor. More hauling by the other boats, I can see their anchor rising to surface with a loop of my chain around its flukes. Way up high - all that wiggling must have helped their anchor to slip upwards along my chain. I yell 'stop hauling, get in the dinghy and unhook your anchor', they do. 'Now back away', they do - finally separating their boats (why so late?).
At some unnoticed moment the wind had died. I remark to Tanya 'Nice Fireworks, eh?' She looks at me, as if I am crazy and says 'I did't notice them'. 'Joking, Tanya', I respond.
'What happened to the wind,' she asked. 'Gone and won't come back, squall is finished', I say.
Tanya gets picked up by dinghy...and they are off looking to re-park.
22:45 - quarter to eleven...
No clapping and horn sounding to salute end of fireworks tonight.
Work carries on out in the inlet until midnight, boats untangling, getting dragged off mudflats, out of trees, rafting up to stationary boats, dinghies whizzing everywhere, overloaded engines groaning, all barely visible.
I keep checking position - anchor holding. Water dead flat now, not a breath of wind. Took a while to re-bed myself...
This morning, I can't move (don't even think of doing anything relating to anchors), can't even pick up a waterbottle without a stab of agony.
A day of Ibuprofin diet coming up.
Brilliant sunshine, calm this were morning. The occupants of the inlet for the most part 'rearranged'overnight, and now on the verge of leaving. Amongst them a catamaran, that arrived after all the hullaballoo - he anchored after his main and jib tore to shreds outside the inlet - he was sailing during the squall.
Too sore a back to get into the dinghy today to check for new scratches. Suspending my weight from handhols ever so often, might make my back click in again.
Just hope for a boring day, and no bad anchoring around me, please, I would not be up to more than lifting a cherry (lots aboard) - if that.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

25. July 2009 - Anchoring again, in Todd Inlet


At anchor again, after three weeks of 'tying up' to park docks (very safe) and moorings (very convenient) in Tod Inlet under the old stack and in front of the pilings of an old dock ruin. Tonight that part of sky will light up with fireworks, and the Inlet will reverberate with thunder...

Bluebells on the path from Todd Inlet to The Gardens


Roses, Roses and more Roses.....

Snapdragons et al in bursts of colour

Dahlias of every shape and colour grace Butchard Gardens now, some as large as dinner plates.
The Up-Side of things....
...and the just as intriguing Down-Side of things in Butchard Garden....
Biting off more than can be swallowed in one bite. This gull had a life crab stuck in it's mouth, too far own to spit out, and with a body too large to slip down it's gullet easily. I drifted close inthe dinghy, and the gull eyed me with a baleful eye, as if deciding whether to stick around and wait for the tidbit to go down or to fly off with the front hatch open.
She made a super-gullian effort, and swallowed. The crab made a sizeable double chin in her neck - then she flew off.

Men, their dogs and their kayaks. The dog in the front is a veteran kayaker, the one in the middle is 'in training'...all aboard enjoyed the sun, heat and the stillness of the water.

Martin Houses on old pilings in the Inlet. Humpty Dumpty, the 'empty-your-tank' run-about came around in the evening, loaded with a large ladder and occupied by three people. One leaned the ladder against the piling from the boat (at high tide to reach the houses) and carefully removed hatchlings from the bird houses, one banded their juvenile legs, and a third photographed the whole procedure. Needless to say, that hundreds of Martin parents were in a righteous uproar, and the Inlet resounded with nervous twittering until Humpty Dumpty made its departure, without dumping any of the human occupants from precarious ladder supports.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

22. July 2009, Saltspring Island, Ganges


Ganges Garden Doohickey Store


Watering the nether regions of the Mermaid in downtown Ganges.


A section of Ganges Harbour: every slip in every marina, in the photo and outside of the photo seemed to have been taken by summer cruising boats. Even the dinghy dock, lower foreground, was almost chock-a-block.

Island Life....and Island Death


Ganges Back Yard Relic

Summer Thistle on Saltspring
Even the Bird Houses have a credit crunch
Old Farmstead in Fulford Valley , Saltspring Island


How about that for Peace and Quiet - in Fulford Harbour

Ganges Craft Gallery Exhibits

Speedy Millie....


For a boat with a hull speed of about 6 knots, not bad!
Here the boat is hurtling along at a breath taking speed of 8.1. Knots in 'Captain's Passage' between Saltspring Island and Prevost Island. I was glad the current was with me at the time, instead of against me, I would have been crawling along at snail's speed instead. The little black triangle at bottom centre is actually the depiction of Millennium Dragon on the GPS.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Cruising to Saltspring Island - Fulford again


I found one, I found one - a real WIFI cafe!


Well, it is Saltspring Island after all.....honoring it's most infamous agricultural crop. That's why the ferries have snackfood aboard!


My impact on a Merganser Duck mother....must have been pretty frightening, judging by her reaction...


Sharing the road with the Fulford Ferry


Sharing the road with a little modest motor yacht of the non single handing cruisers

Galiano In Photos


Sunst Beach in Montague at noon; absolutely fabulous weather, even the water is something between arctic and subtropical.




Voted sexiest dog on Galiano by People's Magazine, named - of course -
(George) Clooney


Intertidal wonderland and paradise for kids


Central Grill on Galiano - art and wildlife in the lady's washroom


Central Grill on Galiano - more mosaics in the lady's washroom



Central Grill on Galiano - even your spiritul hygiene is considered in the lady's washroom


Saturday - The Flying Black Dog has flown the kennel for the day

Monday, July 20, 2009

11 to ?? July 2009, Lazy days on Galiano

I took the little Daytripper Bus to 'downtown' Sturdies Bay with the express priority of publishing the latest Scenes from Paradise. Got to the Central Grill and crawled under the rustic log bench to plug in my notebookette (or whatever those mini laptops are called) - nada.
Scrounged around a bit on the outside porch for another outlet - but, all occupied by a bunch of kids. Scrounged some more and found a whole battery of outlets in the supply storage room beside the toilets with a little desk conveniently placed beside the papertowel stacks, and plugged in - nada.
Pressed the power button to run on batteries - still: nada.
Publishing Scenes from Paradise for today: nada.
Back at the boat I checked again....the laptop battery was stuck in the cover sleeve, instead of the back of the notebook. Moral of the story - brainpower of writer: nada!
The bus lady was trying to let me ride free - frequent rider points I suppose - but with her fickle rider-ship I snuck whatever coins I had into her collection box, turned out to be $6, instead of the $5 official fare. On the return journey she handed me a loonie of change. Can't even sneak in a little extra....
Grocerie restocking day on Galiano was Friday; that's when the food trucks come over from the Mainland by ferry. So, apart from the locally grown goodies, there were ALL KINDS of things. Stocked up on cherries and bananas, Feta and Greek Salad ingredients...and local eggs.
The Galiano organic hens must have the most commodious bums in hen-dom...I bought half a dozen richly brown eggs today, and they were so large, I could not close my bring-your-own egg carton. Must be all the goodies they are pecking out of the organic compost heaps.
Restocked on 'Bounce' as well and stuffed it into wasp-nest-inviting spaces. The fabric softener is so toxic, and smells so disgusting to our little insect friends, that they don't even bother buzzing into landing distance of Millennium. Now, I - of course - have to put up with the cloying scent as well.
Zero tides again, many of the purple sea stars are exposed to the scorching heat during intertidal times - will they survive until the water rises again?
The cook from a local French restaurant brings a bag of 'whatevers' to the drying beach; the eagles, ravens and crows must know - they zero in on the offering immediately.
A boater in a small runabout got himself stranded 'accidentally on purpose' on the most romantic sunset viewing spot of Montague Marine Park, put up his tent (against camp ground rules, but it was late, and nobody patrolled the shore) and lit a little camp-fire. The latter not a good idea - and totally illegal - at a time when the island is absolutely tinder dry. Even cigarette smoking presents an acute fire hazard. (See BC Kamloops area now...1500 homes evacuated due to a man made monster fire) One could sniff the scent of burnt pine needles the next day near the tent. The Park Wardens shooed him and his Juliet off, after his boat was floating again.
Might leave tomorrow, might not - have all I need to stay until someone kicks me off this mooring buoy. $10 a night nonwithstanding.
Pictures later.....really, once I get to another Wifi.
Monday....pretty high winds, staying put.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Wallace Island Wildlife


Forest Canopy with 'Maple Leaf'


Sea Stars in the shallows

Traipsing along the shore


Scoping out the food supply

Wallace Island Bees

Hoover guaring the dock


Kayak Kat


Any closer and I can kiss him


Lassie going for a paddle in Conover Cove

Conover Cove, Wallace Island Photos


Conover Cove - one of the old cabins, now filled with driftwood pieces, all showing names and dates of visiting boats and people




Evening in Conover Cove




'Internet Cafe' on Wallace Island - here I could get cell phone reception...


Calm cloudless and hot evening



Wallace Island Automobile Club



Princess Cove on Wallace Island - boats are stern-tied


Conover Cove Dock


My 'home' for five days on the dock at Conover Cove


Two miles of Island, and lots of hiking and exploring to do