Almost ready, but not quite. . .

July 14, 2008 Secret Cove, BC

Since we were at the turning point, heading south, composing has been more difficult. Is it that I am getting excited to return to Des Moines, I believe this is true. I have enjoyed this journey more than anticipated. Two months of living on a boat is a good amount of time without going lazy or indifferent to the world. I miss knowing what is going on in politics, my community, my family and friends. And yet there is so much to say about places that are called “Pirates Cove” and “Secret Cove” that allow thoughts of smugglers and pirates lurking in the maze of islands and islets. The historian in me loves the places named after early navigators. So often we were a solitary boat in the waterways and at those times I would try to put myself as them seeing this place and recording it so others would want to see it for themselves. A big difference is that I had a knowledgeable captain, a boat with all the modern conveniences for comfort, navigation and propulsion. Large wooden sailing vessels, or the smaller boats, manned with many sets of oars would take tenacity and endurance. This country has its own lure, with a sense of natural beauty and lots of solitude. I look forward to actively help with the planning before we return next year. It has been a good trip and it is not over, so I should not jump to the end – rather appreciate the present.

Yesterday while standing at the checkout counter here in Secret Cove, a basket of red ripe tomatoes jumped out at me. I got so excited, that I grabbed a large bunch; you would have thought they were a large bouquet of fresh cut flowers from my garden! I look over at them, sitting on the counter, their skin is shiny and reflects the light, and the stems are contrasting with healthy green. I intend on slicing them for our Greek lamb pizza tonight’s dinner. The dough is rising, and looking at them, I have mixed feelings. I would love to pick one up, and eat it, enjoying the flavor, and the juice running down my arms. Or do I keep them on the counter and use them as surrogate flower arrangement? Perhaps I should go and buy some more before the store closes so I can do a little of everything. Going to a supermarket with choices of F R E S H produce, that lasts more than one day, (should you take the chance it will last), is not easy to find the further north one travels. Long ago I made the choice to cook with fresh rather than canned or prepared goods. Not as easy to do when you travel for two months to paths less traveled.

July 13, 2008 Southbound for three weeks . . .

And then we will be home a gain! It has been a great adventure reaching as far north as Squirrel Cove. I do believe it was the best place for anchorage for several evenings because there were lots of things to do off the boat; kayaking within the cove or heading out and down to the community store, hiking over to Von Donolop Inlet, or running the lagoon rapids. Hundreds of boats would have no problem anchoring within here, although some would have to stern tie to accommodate that many.

The two days we stayed here, each day the brilliant sun began high, white contrails that shifted and spread against the washed-out blue sky, an occasional wind picked up and set ripple patterns across a mill pond. The evenings ended with the moon waxing; the air so clear that Mother Moon could almost be seen as winking back at us, her moonlight so bright the stars were hidden. A stargazer must be patient and wait for the early morning hours to put on their sparkling show. Both nights I opened the companionway and stood atop the stairs, to hear the silence, feel the gentle fresh air of the hour and gaze up at all the stars, many as bright as the masthead lights glowing, singularly, or in pairs where friends rafted together. The water, so still, reflected everything back. As I write this, I wonder why I just didn’t take my comforter up into the cockpit and watch the new day evolve from perfection.

A majority of cruisers use the "Waggoner Cruiser Guide" as a wise companion for accurate guidance in selecting a good safe harbor in storms, places for fuel, hiking and eating. Should anyone reading this go to Squirrel Cove, please be advised that the hike to Von Donolop Inlet is not for those intending an easy hike. They said there was windfall at the entrance, but after that it was clear. Not true. Recent windfall was a constant and after an hour of scrambling under and over, getting very hot and sticky, elected to stop and head back. We heard from someone else that they did the same, so we didn’t feel like real losers. After re-hydrating with a water then beer we had the most wonderful dinner of our trip, second to the dinner at "The Alchemist" in Westview. A generous gift of fresh oysters and shrimp were given to us by Judy and Wayne. The oysters were sweet, no hint of iodine, their juice ran rosy, and reminding me of cider made at apple pressing in late fall. The shrimp were also perfection. Having the dining out in the cockpit is made simply for clean up, just splash a bucket of sea water and it was complete.

July 11, 2008 Squirrel Cove, Cortez Island

The wind died to complete calm last evening; guaranteeing a sound sleep last night and an easy passage in the morning. Our short passage over to Squirrel Cove went much too quickly. An urge to turn northward, towards what appeared to be a narrow passage into a new maze of islands – tempting us onward to the Broughtons. Ah, next year I promise.

The community of Squirrel Cove is visible as soon as one exits Refuge Cove. Soft sloping acreage hosts homes, an Indian community church painted classic white with the large cross atop the steeple are set to the right of the public dock, leading up to the Squirrel Cove Trading Company. A large stretch of sandy beaches stand out for few have been seen throughout our passage, and for me, it simply said, “Welcome.” The rocky cliffs along the way have looked formidable, and difficult to secure sure footing if one was so inclined. They are awesome to view as landscape or scenery; and state that the island is fit for the hardy and reclusive souls.

At the moment, the night song of the loons has pulled me away from writing. Their calling is beautiful and yet haunting and I’ve always enjoyed listening to it. I searched to locate them but they are on the distant shore or behind the small island near our anchorage. It is 10 PM, the still water is reflecting the light of a waxing half moon and the masthead lights of the many anchored throughout the cove. This is the largest setting that Pat has taken me to with many more options to keep us busy by day.

This afternoon we took our kayaks out for a couple hours to explore the back half. There a couple little islands, lots of coves within the cove, a mini-rapids which leads from a lagoon, (We have heard and read of people taking their kayaks and shooting through at just the right point of the tide change.) The once famous bakery is vacant and looks as if it has missed a couple seasons; the floats are listing slightly, the landing dock looks precarious to stand upon and a small padlock is on the door. Back and beyond this what looks like an island. We thought we could circumnavigate, and as we coming to a deadend, noticed a unique outhouse. Someone decided that using pipe was a better option than digging a hole into solid rock was the way to go.