Shaman flying her colors on a beautiful day at the Port of Nanaimo. (The blue flag is Alaska’s, if you can’t see the stars.)
As many of you know, Shaman went to Alaska last year under another name. When we returned to our marina in Poulsbo, she had a distinct swagger to her stern as she came down the fairway on a sunny Sunday afternoon. “I’ve been to Alaska. Where did YOU go this summer?” she asked the other boats as she went by. We couldn’t blame her because it was quite an accomplishment and she did a great job; we were proud of her, too. But now she has a new name and Ego is not part of it. We will see.
By the way, we chose the name Shaman using the definition of “an intermediary between the spirit world and the physical world”. She takes us places and gives us time to experience the presence of what is truly important in life.
By the way, we chose the name Shaman using the definition of “an intermediary between the spirit world and the physical world”. She takes us places and gives us time to experience the presence of what is truly important in life.
On our way north, we talked to a gentleman who told us that he pulp mill at Nanaimo had closed, taking 750 jobs out of the economy. We have always liked Nanaimo and were sorry that it would be facing hard times. In Pender Harbor on our way home, we met one of the mill workers who was very excited because he now OWNED the mill; the workers bought it.
When we cruised by, the mill was shut down. Very eerie to see it without activity and with no steam billowing. We wish them well. It is a difficult transition, having the workers take over the company and actually make it profitable.
Dodd Narrows at slack water. (Connecting the area near Nanaimo with the Gulf Islands)
I LOVE Dodd Narrows. Each year, I take the same pictures. Makes Doug crazy. Except for Deception Pass, Dodd was the first narrows we had to negotiate when we were younger boaters. Maybe that’s why I like it so much. I told Doug that I wanted my ashes scattered here. You’d never get any rest--swishing back and forth for eternity! I hadn’t thought of that. I’m reconsidering. I’d better decide before next summer. He may push me overboard if I try to take another series of pictures.From Dodd Narrows, Shaman rafted out at the public dock at Degnan Bay on Gabriola Island and her crew made their usual pilgrimage on the quiet, not-too-hilly roads to Silva Bay for their ration of greasy pub food.
Gardening on Gabriola
This old oak tree had a bench around its trunk and a sign ‘way up high that said Gossip Bench. The grass around it was tramped down. ‘Maybe the island version of the Internet?
Malcolm Island does not have a monopoly on whimsical gates. We spent some time chatting with Verne Guieterez, the dock master at Degnan, He has lived on his sailboat at the dock for six years and had a wealth of knowledge about the bay and the island, as well as a great outlook on life.
When we stopped in Sidney to see our friends Carol and Don, who we’d visited on the way north, we stayed at the Port Sidney Marina, a “sophisticated oasis for the discerning marine traveler.”
It’s a lovely facility with many huge expensive boats: a stark contrast to Petersburg, Wrangell, Ketchikan, and Sitka. We laughed about their motto as well as where Shaman and her crew were the most at home. But we loved every minute of it.There are many Laws of the Boat. I had to re-learn # 132.67 on the way to Sidney.
The one day that you do not close a hatch, you will take green water over the bow. Okay. Maybe it was blue water.
The weather was beautiful when we left Musgrave Landing and, for the first time in our 107 days at sea, I did not “dog down” the hatch in the forward cabin. A large yacht went by us at high speed, much closer than was polite. Doug turned in to the wake so we wouldn’t take it broadside, sending Shaman careening back and forth causing everything below to change places. The wake was bigger than the BC ferries. (Of course, the ferries are not usually that close.) The water rushed over the bow and a goodly amount of it dove into the forward cabin, soaking all of the bedding. The cushions have Sunbrella fabric, so the water just beaded up on them, but the comforter and sheets welcomed it, thinking we were doing a cold-(salt)-water wash. (The sloshing motion certainly resembled a washing machine.)
The weather was beautiful when we left Musgrave Landing and, for the first time in our 107 days at sea, I did not “dog down” the hatch in the forward cabin. A large yacht went by us at high speed, much closer than was polite. Doug turned in to the wake so we wouldn’t take it broadside, sending Shaman careening back and forth causing everything below to change places. The wake was bigger than the BC ferries. (Of course, the ferries are not usually that close.) The water rushed over the bow and a goodly amount of it dove into the forward cabin, soaking all of the bedding. The cushions have Sunbrella fabric, so the water just beaded up on them, but the comforter and sheets welcomed it, thinking we were doing a cold-(salt)-water wash. (The sloshing motion certainly resembled a washing machine.)
Fortunately we were headed for a “sophisticated oasis for the discerning marine traveler.” We used the sophisticated laundry room. And it really was. The folding table was black granite, with a stainless steel sink. Leather couches, a telly, and computer at the other end of the carpeted room offered entertainment. The washing machines washed and the dryers dried, just like the machines up the coast. The very thing we were hopping for.
The comforter didn’t get dry before the laundry area closed at the very civilized hour of 5:00 PM, so I draped it over the boom. We looked like the Jodes from Oklahoma. I’m surprised we were not issued a citation. Possibly when we try to return, we will be turned away.
We love Sidney.
Next port of call: U.S. of A.
