30 May 2009 - rough Silva Bay

Pretty scary here...wind changed from almost dead calm to 25 knots blowing through the crowded anchorage. All the 'permanent' structures suddenly make strange holding patterns on the water. Where to anchor? And all these boats with nowhere else to go?
Last night, one sailboat snugged in behind me, even closer to the shoals and rocks - and held fine.
One 40 foot powercruiser anchored beside me (I was not on deck to see arrival) and owners had disappeared into the bowels of their vessel to do whatever...
One 80 foot long, and 2 stories high gin palace with two ancients aboard dropped anchor amongst the mess and immediately got into trouble - even before the wind started. Lots of explosive noises from the engine, and huge black clouds rising from the exhaust. Almost looked like fire aboard...anchor winch doing overtime!
After some worrying ups and downs of anchor, they finally parked the monster in the middle of the narrow fairway leading into the Bay - and right in the pass for the strong predicted winds...
Overnight, the powerboat that had anchored beside me dragged and drifted towards rocks quite speedily, wind by now pretty roaring. Owners came up and - not without difficulty - got out of their spot and headed towards a dock in the marina.
I sat in my cockpit for a while, dressed in woollies and covered with a sleeping bag, but nothing untoward happened - I was holding my ground, 100 feet of chain out on my 35 pound Bruce anchor.
This morning, Saturday, it is still blowing and howling, but now - at last - one can see!
One newly arrived large sailboat, singlehanded, was surveying the anchorage, and the Captain just said one word: 'Awful' when he motored past me, referring to the deplorable number of obstructions.
Just then Millennium escaped being run over by another huge power cruiser 'Champlain', maybe 60 feet long and half as high, whose 20 foot 'dinghy' was dragging sideways behind his broad stern. He had been anchored in an open part of the bay overnight, and obviously dragged, and now made frightening moves to anchor somewhere else, like 50 feet in front of me. The wind pushed this mountain closer and closer. There was not much missing and I could have touched his broadside from my bow. Driver was not paying attention....I had to do some unladylike shouting, as a collision with that huge heap of fiberglass would have spelt Millie's certain demise. It was a little too close.
The single handed sailor, previously mentioned, motored close, and said, 'Do you know what he is doing?'
I answered, 'It does not seem that he knows himself, I would not even dare a second guess...'
All for the best, power cruiser docked somewhere, sailboat tucked himself into a rather challenging spot - hats off to him.
I just hope that I keep holding until the wind abates - predicted to last another 24 hours.
Time to read and contemplate...
Sun is shining brilliantly.

27. May 2009, Silva Bay, Gabriola Island

Gabriola Passage is the 'door' from the Northern Gulf Islands into the Strait of Georgia and to Mailand British Columbia.
The passage should only be taken at slack between tides. At other times the current runs - right now - up to 7 knots maximum in either direction.
I timed my arrival at the pass for a little before slack. Should I run into trouble mid - pass, the new flood current would spit me out on the other side. I was 10 minutes early, there was not much spitting going on, but a little pushing against the lingering still quite insistent ebb stream.
Now I am anchored in Silva Bay, the northernmost Gulf Island Harbour with decent protection.
Except it's pretty plugged...Islanders seem to have placed moorings, even floating docks into every bit of available space, so there it little room left to drop a hook. The Marina's guest docks - luxurious with all the trimmings - are almost empty, nary a visitor in sight. Maybe both situations are a sign of present economic woes...
The man at the fuel dock hut, which doubles as a 'terminal' for Tofino Airlines (puddle-jumpers) said, that 'the police is going to clean that up', meaning removing some of the buoys etc. Poor floatplane-pilot really has to do some fancy wing-work to get in or out of this place dodging all that stuff.
Well, what there is of a watery runway, started right at my pulpit today. Waved to the pilot, whilst he revved past me, almost near enough for a handshake and a dustoff of the wings.
He was airborne in seconds and banked through the tops of the pine trees out of sight behind a rocky cliff.

Spent the last two days in Clam Bay, a roomy anchorage between two Islands, and watched the eagles and herons feasting on the shore, which were laid bare by one of the lowest ebbs of the year.
Weighing anchor at Clam Bay this morning was not too tough a deal.
But I still wished fervently for a couple of strong manly arms (not a cry for romance) to manhandle that brutish anchor from dangling (kinked and the wrong way) so near and yet so far above the water into its bow roller resting place.
It cannot be done with the electric anchor winch, which I learned the hard way. It took two guys with a sledgehammer to get the anchor unstuck from where it was well and unbudgeably wedged thanks to a VERY strong electrical winch hauling in the last yard of chain.
Just not the easiest for a little old lady.

24. May 2009, Montague

Trying to head north during the last two days to get to my next planned anchorage would have felt, despite sunny weather, rather 'miserable'. The northwest winds and huge ebb tides would have combined into a slow, bouncy and freezing ride. Much better, to sit it out here, pleasantly warm, and fret about my capricious remote anchor control.
I took it apart again, all things electrical work, BUT...the down button in itself does not make reliable contact when depressed. OK - it's wiggle time, or manual operation time, once it comes to anchoring. At least the UP button works, that's where the heavy work lays anyway.
Ha, I even took my pressure stove pump apart - it leaked. Easy thing to do, except for replacing an old o-ring. Digging that out of it'very badly designed location kept me entertained for a couple of hours. Nothing could budge it, neither screwdriver nor pincers, needlenosed pliers nor wire, sharp end of a file nor spikes. Swiss Army Knife to the rescue, the smallest blade reached into the tiny crevasse and I lovingly demolished the little rubber thing, and finally extracted it like the root of a tooth. That, and a little further surgery, turned the pump into a wondrous tool again - so I cooked rosemary chicken on my perfectly functioning kerosene stove.
Montague invites a longish stay to fully enjoy the hikes around the shore. There is the daily show of doggie pit-stop transport from neighbouring boats to the beach - and back again. Doggies are mostly turned out in life jackets and trying to take in the breeze by stretching as far forward of the bow as precarious balance allows.
Observing mooring maneuvres of arriving vessels either gives rise to head-shakes or admiring thoughts, depending on the skill or lack thereof of skippers and their hard pressed spouses. Indeed a test of true love considering all that yelling and division of labour - he steers, she struggles with the heavy duty stuff...
The wind is supposed to change tomorrow (maybe), and if I really get up and going at about five in the morning (good luck) I may have reasonable conditions to slither a little further north.
In the meantime - one soaks up the sun...

22. May 2009, Montague Harbour, Galiano Island

No Photos, no internet, no cellphone coverage...cruising on Millennium Dragon has definitely started.
I cast off this morning under a sunny sky, onto a flat sea, and into a gentle breeze.
Four hours of sheer delight, watching the horizon changing constantly. Snow and glacier topped mountains, with the volcanic shimmering cone of Mount Baker the most impressive, emerge and hide betwenn islands along the route.
I met one of the new mega-ferries, who - according to the news earlier - carried a special passenger on that particular run: a young elephant seal (really) on her way back to a suitable release spot into the ocean after a stint at sea - creature hospital in Vancouver.
I picked up a mooring buy in Montague marine park, secured and 'fixed' a couple of things (always something on a boat), climbed into little Millie, the small Zodiac, and rowed ashore to hike to Montague Marina Cafe. A very agreeable spot, with a balcony overhanging the shallows below, where the intra-tidal sealife keeps up the entertainment.
It's quiet, no tourists or summer-boaters yet. Slim colourful kayaks lay upside down along a dock awaiting paddlers.
But, Atrevida, the breadboat, is anchored in the bay, open for her seasonal floating bakery business.
Maybe tomorrow will be anchoring testing day, always a little nerve racking first time out...
This place has a public phone. That high-tech device is the conduit for this post. Photos will appear, once I hit a public wireless spot...who knows when that will be.

16. May 2009 - Victoria Day Long Weekend

My Rhododendrons are eithr fighting or loving each other. Two bushes, one red and one pink are almost intertwined in battle or attraction. The blooms are as big as large cauliflowers, and maybe almost as heavy. The lower branches are resting on the ground under the weight of the blooms.

My peach coloured Azalea beside the house frames a view of Satellite Channel, where today dozens of sailboats - under spinnaker - are competing in the 'Around Saltspring Island' race. At least that's what I think is happening out there with this armada of boats all heading in the same direction.

Somewhat subdued in colour, beside the Rhodos sporting these overpowering pinks and reds.

The garden sounds like the innards of an electric transformer - hundreds of bees and bumble bees are populating the scene. Very nice to listen to, however, a little disconcerting considering my body's dislike of insect bites...

Washed the topsides of my sailboat today. Got the dinghy into the water and the little outboard (not quite two horses) nicknamed the 'Eggbeater' started at first pull of the starter cord. I had my oars stowed aboard - just in case the Eggbeater would have given up. But no, we curved around in figure eights (in rowing distance from Millennium Dragon of course) at turtle and rabbit speeds, and she hummed like a happy little bee.

Filled up the fresh water tank as well, and now the boat sits nose down along the waterline. Well, maybe additional containers filled with diesel and kerosene, stored in the stern, will make her a little more balanced.

Let's hope for calm weather....then it's "off the dock" and off wherever next week.

The Apprentice on BC Ferry

On the ferry they were sitting behind me, about two rows, discussing 'business'. Two boys, maybe 18 and 14 years old, using very adult terms and vocabulary.
The older assured the younger that business was still good despite the 'lagging economy'. Business can be managed - without getting caught - over texting, cellphone and e-mail. The trick, according to the older boy again, was to use metaphors (his word). He gave a couple of examples, such as 'go home' for acid, and 'homework' for crack...
That way, he assured the younger, no one can figure out, what you are doing...and one can line up dealers everywhere in Canada, he had a couple in Calgary...
And so on and so forth more in the same line...
I was - to say the least - disturbed. But, what to do? Report them? Talk with them? Ignore them? Two young geniuses plotting expert deceit would deny any wrongdoing if reported. It seemed to me that if I would interject, their expertise at lying would land me somewhere, where I would neither help them, nor the situation, nor me - for that matter.
So, I did nothing, but listen to this sad discussion, imagining, that in a few years time these two will be adults, have children maybe, run for office...Their self esteem high, their confidence in their ability to do 'whatever they want' built up since years.
Both sounded certainly very intelligent. However - what about character? They will be lying, committing petty or serious crimes maybe unless something or somebody stops them now.
They both seemed very proud of their business activities, and were not at all discomfited that I could overhear their talk. And - they were correct - what could I do to stop them? Well, maybe the parents would say, that kids will be kids, and it is just a 'normal phase'.
Scary thought.

Excursion to the Mainland

I took the ferry from Vancouver Island to Vancouver on Thursday, a sunny calm day, perfect for being on the water. The approach to the mainland is spectacular on a clear day, when the snowy peaks range along the entire eastern horizon as far as the eye can roam.

My friend and I drove up to Cypress Mountain, where snow still fills the cracks between the cliffs and the hollows between trees. The ski - lifts are idle now. All the lodges are closed for some reason - maybe in preparation for the 2010 Olympic Winter Games.

Cypress mountain is situated practically in Vancouver's backyard, close enough for a quick downhill ski after a winter work day. The views are impressive across the island dotted Strait of Georgia and Juan de Fuca Strait towards the glaciers of the Olympic Peninsular in the USA and Vancouver Island to the West.

The end of this mountain road is the start for many trails, from technically challenging mountaineering treks along lofty ridges to pleasant and easy day hikes on Black Mountain and Mount Strachnan - once the snow is gone, that is.

11. May 2009 - Drizzle Days again....

Too wet and too cold to get inspired for the BIG things, like cleaning a boat, I enjoy the little ones in my garden and spout bad poetry:



Liquid jewels on apple blossoms


A rose coloured nest filled with shiny droplets

Blossoms like oyster shells, adorned with pearls of rain

8. May 2009 - At Last - Sunshine?

My apple tree has burst into bloom overnight, exquisite softly coloured blossoms on every branch.
If these blooms all turn into apples, I will be able - come fall and harvest time - to keep the neighbours, the deer and maybe a bear or two in plenty supply.
In the meantime, I keep humming a song from Das Land des Laechelns (a German Operetta) or The Land of Smiles. It starts with 'Von Apfelblueten einen Kranz' and that is all I know. It means 'A wreath of apple blossoms'. Well, it's a start...
Maybe the new tune will replace the Leonard Cohen songs, which have been taking turns in my head without let up, since I heard his live concert a couple of weeks ago.

I watched this little boy and his father on an Agricultural Fair in San Jose Los Cabos, Baja California, in March. He was perched on a paddock-fence, whilst his father washed down his horses.

5. May 2009 - Back to the drawing board

This blind gentleman, sitting on the steps to the parking-lot at the Todos Santos Mission church, impressed me with his quiet dignity.


This little fellow seemed the epitome of COOL.
I loved his aviator glasses. He was jumping exuberantly around the Pescadero fair ground, punching the air with his outstretched arm, maybe anticipating a treat of barbecued corn on the cob.

This young woman and her child belong to a community of almost nomadic fieldworkers hailing mostly from the poorer states of southern Mexico. They move to Todos Santos to enable them to earn a 'living wage' to feed their families.
Here they live in the vegetable fields surrounding the oasis - without a permanent home to call their own. They live and sleep under tarps, or with luck - under palapa roofs. Little pit toilets are a few yards away. The fields can be miles from the pueblo, the town. There are no schools for the children, no health services - don't even think of electricity or running water. They harvest beans, squash, cilantro, peppers, tomatoes - whatever abundant crop happens to be ripe. The daily wage is said to be 60 pesos, which is about six Dollars Canadian. Sometimes a working couple has a few youngsters in tow (some of them also help in the fields). They feed and clothe the whole family from that meagre wage, or at least try to.
When in town, they keep pretty much to themselves, buying some staples at the local stores, then carrying the purchases back to their field-camps, miles of lugging. Some beg.
Whole families make this shopping pilgrimage of several miles. Sometimes they are lucky and get a ride from a passer-by with space in a pick up truck-bed.
They are always squeaky clean...
One can sometimes see the families bathe in the spring fed canals of the oasis, again usually quite distant from their camps.
The kids love those shady 'swimming holes' amongst the palm trees and reeds...they splash, and laugh and chase each other. Probably have as much or more fun than more privileged kids in an in-ground pool with filtered water.
The women wash clothes - by hand of course - in the canals, or in buckets back at the camp. Laundry dries on lines strung between palm trees or fence posts.

The Merry Month of May 2009

4. May 2009 - Spring, Fruehling, Primavera.....

Japanese Cherry trees along the sidewalk

Forget Me Nots beside the walkways

Duck Pond on the Golf course

Otter checking out the beach below my

house

The 'pink rhodo' starting to burst into bloom

Rainbow across Satellite Channel

Now, imagine bald eagles soaring amongst the pine trees, robbins, hummingbirds, sparrows, finches, garter snakes, racoons, bumble bees, woodpeckers, rabbits, deer and a whole host of 'wildlife' amongst all this blooming flora...who needs television?

2. May 2009

Millie waiting at her dock for her first outing into the Big Blue.

Most of the mechanical chores are done, now for the cosmetic ones, like washing, polishing, touching up wood, canvas and stainless steel.

The real fun and excitement start when the groceries are loaded, and the dinghy made fast to the stern. That means one if off....weather permitting.

Liski, the little Red Rocket

Liski, a little Trakehner-Welsh cross gelding, in his pasture in Mill Bay.

He is small, but mighty strong. I ride him a couple of times a week, at least until sailing starts in earnest.

He almost looks like Sultana, the little Arab mare I rode in Todos Santos.

But, where Sultana was sweetness, calm and softness personified, Liski is energy, boldness and willfulness.

Sultana in her paddock in Las Playitas near Todos Santos