I was ready to head back through Gabriola Pass at slack current on Sunday, sky clear, wind perfect for a sail, however too intimidating to pull up anchor in the crowded bay. I gave up...I waited until midday for the wind to abate, radioed the marina for a berth, pulled the anchor up without ANY problems at all, left it dangling just above water until I was tied up at the marina, and wiggled it into the bowroller there. At least, I thought, I can get out on Monday, regardless of wind and crowds.
Good news: the marina had no water. Toilets, restaurant, shower and laundry were all out of commission, because last night's wind had knocked over a powerpole, which promptly crushed a newly built water pump house, pump and all...it would take 1-2 days to fix it. It's an Island after all - sounds like Todos Santos on one of the many water outages. This sounds bad - nooo! One charges lower winter moorage rates to compensate for the inconvenience. Fine with me.
Monday saw me moving out. It was chilly, but sunny, and still blowing about 20 knots. Jenny, the dockmaster and a cruising couple manhandled me out of the dock, whilst I watched out, that I did not drift into the wings of a Beaver floatplane parked right behind me.
All went well, chugged again through Gabriola Pass and entered a different world.
No wind at all (despite strong wind warning from the weather office) and 30 degrees centigrade. A blueish haze lay over the whole scenery. Apparently the smoke of a huge forest fire way east in the Coastal Ranges, near Penticton, further east even than Whistler. The outflow winds blew the smoke hundreds of kilometers down Howe Sound, across the Strait of Georgia and over the whole Island Group and even further west.
I headed directly to Montague, imagining a restful night on a park mooring. I picked one up at first pass and breathed a sigh of contentment. Pretty nice, sunny, hot, quiet.
Went into the cabin to wash my hands and - my sweet water foot pump had given up. Nada, nothing going...sounds like the marina in Silva Bay. Investigated the cause, contemplated dismantling, went through my plumbing spare parts. I carry bits and pieces to fix ANYTHING, but had nothing to fix the footpump.
Plan B - use a 'made in China' hand pump and 'decant' from sweet water tank. My test showed that that backup system made a lot of sucking noises, but did not generate a single drop of water.
No problema...for the time being I just ladle it out with a cup, until I decide to hit real civilization to fix it properly.
I chatted with the park warden, who dinghies around the buoys to collect moorage fees. We talked about the forest fire, and he mentioned that he manned the fire lines, when this island suffered a forest fire last year. His house was right in the pass of the fire. His wife loaded all their horses into a horse trailer, his little daughter had to lead their pony out of the fire area. No room left in the horse trailer. He came back one last time to get the chickens and cats (dogs went with the wife and horses) and a few other important things, and cast one good good bye look at his house...and then the wind changed and the fire turned into a different direction.
The night on the mooring was so quiet, it felt like resting on a sheet of dark glass. Glorious!
