Well, life has gone on, so I’d better finish this up soon before old age memory fuzzes it out.

Anyway, safely ensconced in Irish Bay the next morning I was really really tired – the physical tired that says I’d pushed myself a bit too far, even though I didn’t have any screaming pains, sore muscles. So I decided to just take a day off to recover. I read some books, puttered about in the galley, did a bit of boat cleaning and sorting, stowed the jib from the foredeck… basically lazed about.

But when I went to do the dishes in the afternoon I realized I’d been in too much a hurry on departure. As I was rinsing the last of the flatware the foot pump gave a startled gurgle, and I knew I was almost out of fresh water. It was a bit late in the day to start off to a marina, so I determined to head to any of the nearby Vancouver Island ports the next day.

So, another beautiful sunset viewed from the cockpit in Irish Bay, and another early night as I turned in pretty much immediately after that, before it was anywhere near dark on deck.

The next morning I woke before sunrise, unable to get back to sleep. Breakfast was cold cereal in milk because I wanted the least dishes possible, but by poking the supply pipe deeper into the tank I was able to make a pot of coffee and clean the dishes after. Fumbling about on the deck to get the 100% jib ready to hoist I managed to stub my toes pretty nicely, though I still have no clue what it was I hit them on.

With the motor ticking over (I’d really sucked down the A bank battery – turned out I’d left the depth and log running ever since I’d pulled into the anchorage even though they’re on my shutdown checklist) I hauled up the anchor, which didn’t come up easily. The wind was from shore and very light, and despite more than a half-dozen other boats no one was nearby or in the direction we started drifting once the anchor was off the bottom. So I hauled up the main and got going completely under sail, and then managed to get the jib set as well before I cleared the bay, so I killed the engine and headed down Plumper Sound toward Boundary Pass.

The wind was NNW as we headed out, and about 5-10 in the Sound. I was actually wishing I’d set the 130% jib instead, but as we got further down the wind picked up with sustained gusts over 15, and the boat was making more than hull speed over the ground. Approaching the Pass a fishing boat was heading up between Blunden Island and Teece Point on South Pender Island while another was working back and forth into Camp Bay. I couldn’t remember the chart between there, so I decided to get well clear of Blunden before gybing and heading west. The wind continued to accelerate near the headland, and the gybe was wilder than it should have been as the full main and 100% jib were overpowered in a beam reach where they’d been just about perfect on the very broad reach previously.

I decided to tuck in close to the lee of South Pender to avoid getting overpowered, but by the time we were across the mouth of Camp Bay the wind was moderating, and within a mile we were nearly becalmed, then we were becalmed, followed faint hints of wind from the SW. Finally a fitful light breeze mostly from the south as we got further into Swanson Sound.

Even that died off to ghosting conditions as we got into Swanson Channel. After 20 minutes of less than 1.5 knots, with lots of traffic going both directions, I decided the engine was the better part of valor and fired it up. I wasn’t pushing the motor though, and left the main up to help deal with wakes.

I’d been to Canoe Cove to clear in once during the winter (it was extremely silly – I’d been in the states for a few days enjoying the San Juans in the rain with almost no other boaters in sight, crossed over to Bedwell Harbor and called in, where CBSA said no, I had to go to a different clearing station, and the nearest was Canoe Cove so I motored over there where I called in and it was just fine to clear in via the phone. So using the same phone to call the same number at one dock is better than doing it at another dock, apparently.) I’d found the route there to include a lot of hazards to keep track of, so I decided to head to Sidney to find moorage, get water, in part because I’d never been there and in part because the route south from Moresby Pass was less navigationally challenging.

So I ended up within sight of the breakwater at Port Sidney about 0930, and gave them a call on the phone to see if they had any slips available. It was the 3rd, and I expected they might be busy with boats that had come out for Canada Day and hadn’t gone home yet, which ended up the case. They had a slip, though, but I wasn’t supposed to clear in until 1pm. Clear out time was 11 am, though, so they thought it’d be okay to come in any time after that.

Well, I had nothing to do for a couple hours, so I throttled back and decided to go check out those navigational dangers and channels up into Tsehum Harbor until it was time, which had a couple of moments of nervousness as the bottom is pretty shallow in a few spots. But I was back at the breakwater at 1115, and it was a circus. There were three boats trying to get out. A 40 foot sailboat was trying to back into an end slip, and had everyone else trying to dance around her. An impatient motor boater was charging into a pack of 4 boats trying to get into the marina who were timidly giving the sailboat plenty of room. Boats were jigging off the customs dock, waiting for their chance to tie up temporarily, and dock hands were shouting instructions and inquiries to incoming craft.

At the last second my phone rang, the marina calling to change my slip assignment – just after I’d headed into the channel between the docks of course, so I had to turn around and head back into the madness, in past the entirely full alley of super yachts, to the tiny slips near the marina building. The dock hands did a great job of helping me into a difficult slip, squeezed by an over-sized motorboat.

And there I was, in a pretty harbor where every hanging plant basket was slowly dripping water from their irrigation system, and the average boat value was greater than the average detached home price in Vancouver. I’ve never seen that many megayachts in a single location. The surprising thing is the total cost including electricity came out to less than $1.50 per foot for the night.

The first thing I did was shut down the boat, stow sails, and fill the water tank. Then I showered, and went looking around. Whether or not the marina was pricey, the boutiques ashore certainly were! I have to admit I walked back to the boat with a couple of big boutique-style bags, but they also busted the budget so I skipped going out for a nice dinner and instead made up a sandwich aboard. Then I did laundry at the very nice facilities in the marina float building; pricey, but decent. (The dryer, unfortunately, was just not up to the job. After 45 minutes everything in the load was still damp.)

I hung around in the morning just long enough to get a few supplies – avoiding all meat and produce (I still had a bunch of cherries from a produce stand in Richmond, though.) The plan was to clear in at Roche Harbor, which I figured would be a bit full of dedicated boaters, mostly sail, who didn’t mind missing out on fireworks on the fourth.

In other words, I was extremely ill-informed and optimistic. But more about that in another post.