12. July 2009, Conover Cove on Wallace Island

Note: still no photos - no means to upload them. I hike for about an hour to a hill to get cell phone reception, and from that vantage point of civilization I send this e-mail - maybe.
I slipped through the shallow and very narrow entrance into Conover Cove on Wallace Island two hours after low tide, which gave me seven feet of depth entering the Cove. I went DEAD-slow. If I should hit bottom with my six foot keel, at least I would touch gently and be lifted by the rising tide.
I schnoozled in without mishap, and had a helping hand at the dock.
An hour later a green wooden sailboat went aground. The lone skipper (some though it was a lady skipper, hair almost to the waist) was trying to push his little craft off the entrance rocks (well marked on the charts and all the cruising guides), which lurk about 2-3 feet below water.
Another boater and I drove out to help. We dragged him into deeper water, and then brought him to the dock - he said his engine quit - run out of gas.
Turns out, the funky skipper had no charts, no idea about the reefs and rocks, no food, no dinghy, no gas and no money. When I talked with him, he said, that he hails from Cowichan Bay. An aha-moment for me, remembered him as one of the resident 'derelict boat' residents there.
Well, a neighbouring boat fed him and gave him gas for his engine. The Park Rangers asked him for dock fees - or leave dock and anchor - and, of course he had no money. He promised to anchor out later, and took off to hike away - enough trail to hike a whole day on this island without retracing steps. He returned at nightfall, and just stayed on dock regardless.
No harm done, but, this morning he nearly made up for it. Off he goes at full speed with his little outboard fuelled with newly donated gas, leaving a bit of a slick in the cove, straight towards the same rocks he hit last night.
We all tried to shout warnings to him - but nothing registered...
By some rare stroke of luck, he skipped over the ledge to the outside. There he hoisted his sails and then stopped, bounced off, and sailed along the submerged reef...getting hung up, the boat freeing itself, hung up again....and so he sailed off into the morning sun....
Wallace Island was named after Capt. Wallace Houston, who first surveyed the area in 1850.
A Scotsman, retired from being a true gold digger during the Goldrush, planted an orchard here. He died in 1927 at 92.
David Conover, author of 'Once upon an Island' and 'One Man's Island' bought the island in 1946, and built a rustic resort. That finished in 1966, and after several changes of ownership, the island became a provincial park in 1990.
Wallace Island has reverted almost to pure natural state. Remains of a couple of cabins, a waterpump and a cleanly rusted wreck of a small ancient truck (the single car on the island) are the only reminders of past civilization.
One of the cabins is filled with bits of driftwood, all inscribed with boat names and dates...even one of my past visits on Time Enough, a large power yacht, is 'eternalized' in this rustic hall of fame.
There are seals (they hang out on the outlaying reefs and visit the cove), otters, mink, Steller and California Sealions in winter, blacktailed deer - and once a cougar swam over from a neighbouring shore. He is supposed to be gone now. There are hordes of racoons. Some daring ones got into the dogfood on a neighbouring boat last night; they just 'broke in', without the owner noticing them. Maybe we should import a cougar again for a season, to keep the racoon population explosion in check.