Starting Week Four- Telegraph Harbor

June 21, 2008 – It has been three weeks . . .
And yes, I am feeling irritable; I would love to soak in my tub, with hot, bubbly water up to my neck, the window open to allow cool air, listening to the birds chatter as they go about their daily routines in the woods behind my yard, all the while allowing myself to drift off to a relaxed induced sleep. Honestly, that hardly occurs because I always have a list of things to do. It is just the thought of having the option that suits me today. Liberté is well equipped with the amenities of home, just smaller versions. It is the smaller that is frustrating me; making the bed after tearing it apart to get something stored below it. Open the refrigerator for Pat’s mocha, (now made preciously to 170°), is no simple 30 second feat. Rather, one must remember where you put things on what layer and then dig. There have been a couple of times that all my counter space was filled and food was still filling half the refrigerator! I really should not complain because this is not an icebox – half full with blocks of melting ice. Rather we have an efficient, quiet compressor that works wonderfully. The Pioneer Woman in me should be thrilled with all that I do have, I’m just tired today.

Tree lined hills, with one bare section of old solid and angular rock surround Montague Harbour on Galiano Island. It is wide and spacious AND filled half full with boats of every description. Even a renovated 5-car ferry that is now open as a bakery is anchored here. There are as many empty buoys as there are those occupied so I am grateful we are here now rather when it is maxed out. During the afternoon it was fairly quiet but as evening approached, the droning of motors on the skiffs came to life. It reminded me of the sounds of a beehive, as the drones flew in loaded with pollen to make the honey. Sometimes the sound progressed to the state of frenzy, as in a hive swarming! Between skiffs and boats a couple of sea planes landed and then shortly after, took off. How they avoided contact with anything is amazing! In a couple publications we have, the Hummingbird Pub is mentioned. They have a bus that commutes boaters and campers from the park to their establishment. The last run is 11 PM. I bet they had a big crowd because the harbor was filled with ‘relaxed’ customers shortly after 11. They zipped around without the help of the moonlight. I believe they talked and laughed their way through the maze of anchored and moored boats. Life this morning started later than usual.

We arrived here yesterday mid morning without having the sails up. (There was one small window of time when the winds were just over 6 knots, but the tide was running 2 knots against us.) Pat’s ability to discern one pass over another, the names of islands all come from his past experience to this area gives him confidence to steer our course. His working ability to read the charts amazes me also as he transfer info to the Raymarine GPS and sets a course for the boat to track to. I am directionally challenged on the road, by sea- as I told Pat yesterday, I would not even think of taking over. I need Maggie , after I punch in an address, to tell me where to go. Watching for logs, reading the depth gauge – no sweat and standing watch to a ‘tracked’ route works for me. I guess I had better take good care of Pat so he gets me home safely!
Galiano Island has lots of spacious and manicured campsites. Boy has camping changed since my childhood and young adulthood. As an adult it was backpacking and camping at a county fishing camp, Pillar Point to be exact. The beach is beautiful and a wonderful place for the girls to roam, explore and play. The campsite up on the hill was either dusty or muddy. One mother once commented that bringing our young families there was “babysitting under hardship conditions”. That pretty well summed it up! But I have digressed from the present. Here, today families have the option of using wooden platforms in some areas to place one’s tent. I remember blowing up that single mattress and if the air held all night, more than likely one rolled off several times. Today there are full-sized - solid and flat air mattresses. Many families were taking use of these amenities. Several moms were sitting and reading, within a short distance from their young children playing; discovering wonders of the shoreline beaches. Campfires mesmerized many occupants as they sat quietly talking to one another. Pat has many good memories of bringing his children here when they were young. They explored the many easy hiking trails, splashed around the lagoon when the tide went out or maybe they would bring out their fishing poles and catch the evening dinner. The dock has been filled with lots of young boys, their fishing poles and all their fishing tackle from sunup to sundown. Kayaks of every style are skimming the harbor; their occupants young to middle age. The older cruisers seem to depend on their motorized skiffs. Pat & I are content with the rowing of the minto thus far. It is easy for me, I just sit at the bow and watch him row!

I should go back to Sidney. The town motto regarding their residents; “A town for newly weds or nearly dead”! We both agree that never have we seen so many motorized scooters/wheelchairs in one place. The owners zipped around with no hesitation or reserve. Their flags were to let the rest of the pedestrians know they were coming – and watch out! The town is really set up for tourists and wealthy retired couples, with deep pockets: high end dress shops, home interior and gift shops and lots of new & used bookstores! I do believe that Marcee, Jesse, Pat & I supported one or all! Our arms all grew an extra inch as we carried them around. Pat bought me several to read related to the region: A Curve in Time, Following the Curve in Time, Mac and the Princess and Desolation Sound, the History. He told me that it is my homeschooling material and it should be read before we got to these destinations! I began to read the Curve of Time last evening, and had a little trepidation while the author was describing the narrow entrance to Princess Louisa Inlet. I tried to use reason that she was a single mother with five children and she managed it. Pat is my captain and he has made this passage several times – but then he was with a crew of experienced men. Try as I might I am working not to allow myself to be troubled until the moment to follow directions is in the present.

One of the chores Pat needed to complete before many more miles were traveled was to place a new cover over the mast head light. I was the chosen one to go up the mast and do this. I sat down inside the boson’s chair; Pat secured a halyard to the rings with several wraps of masking tape. Having gone up once before on my birthday a month before I was somewhat prepared, but not necessarily comfortable with the task ahead. I must admit it went easier this time going up, because I kept myself pushed away from the mast, rather than just going straight up – crammed to the mast. My bare feet worked like tentacles, my bottom was puckered so tight in the chair, if by chance I would be flipped upside down, I don’t think I could have fallen out! My hands kept a good grip to any and all lines available. The mast head light is only half way up the 62 foot, but to let go of the lines and use both hands had me less than amicable to Pat’s advice. The dang light cover would not go in and set itself on the multiple attempts I made. I had placed silicone was around the perimeter and was doing the best I could to keep it off my fingers and mast. I wanted down yet one of my character defects, tenacity, paid off and the cover went into the socket, and felt very secure. It was about this time that the wind was picking up and it was time for Pat to let me down slowly – after he documented with a photo that I did go up and complete the task.
On Thursdays, 5-9 PM, Sidney has five blocks on Beacon, their main street, fenced off for an Open Air Market. There were nearly an equal amount of shoppers as merchants. Large flats of red, ripe strawberries, long ribs of rhubarb, hot dogs, face-painting, fresh baked bread, small new potatoes, hand-made items of a wide assortment: knitted toys to beautiful wooden objects and everything else in between. A few times Mother Nature tried as she could, but never succeeded, to wring out a few drops of rain. We had had a late lunch at a Pub near the marina so the choice of eating our way through was not conceivable. A good cup of coffee was just right and allowed us to sit, listen to a lively musician who enjoyed performing, across from us and people watch. We wrapped up the evening with a stop at a 50’s styled ice cream parlor and enjoyed a sundae. The night before we had a good dinner at one of three Greek restaurants we found on Beacon Street.
Writing has somehow helped my irritability dissolve. We are now going to paddle around the harbor one more time – maybe go around that other corner to see the view from the water, up close, rather from the shore’s trail up above.