Last night and today we have amused ourselves coming up with boat names. Some of the more reasonable suggestions have been Rabbit Hole or Bijee Bijee (Ueker-anian for hurry hurry). Some of the unreasonable ones include Dirty Fresh Pants or … It really got going when dinghy names were thrown in the hat. I liked Dinghy Dong while Leslie was partial to Cod Piece. Now all we need is a boat.

Morning brought a shower and toasted begrudged blueberry English muffins. Afterwards I checked out the engines and decided to top up the water tank. Our neighbour in Penalty Box was already using the hose so I amused myself for 10 minutes. Next time I looked up Windy I had his hose out and waiting. Sigh. Then Windy I informed me that the water had stopped. So I headed down the dock checking the valves. Eventually I came upon a repairman fixing a faucet. “A-ha,” I exclaimed. He informed me it would be 5 minutes. I headed back and informed everyone of the delay. 15 minutes later I gave up since I figured the 65′ Windy I would take a bit to fill up.

Meanwhile C had headed to the patisserie at the dockside for coffee. Apparently my instant was wearing on her. I had stopped in yesterday and the lovely French lady tried to sell me on pain au chocolate and croissants. No baguettes, though: that would have really made it like France.

Anyway, having given up on water and having a schedule to keep, my inner antsy decided it was time to cast off. A brief discussion brought us to the conclusion that I could drive straight ahead after the merest of pushes off the dock and them use the empty slip in front to swivel my bow around. It pretty much happened exactly like that. A boat was just about to enter our finger, but he backed off when he saw us exiting.

Out of Ganges Harbour and up Trincomali Channel, and then we scooted into Houston Passage to swing by Conover Cove for a peak. Someone was right behind me so I looped back and waved him in since we weren’t stopping. He got the last spot at the dock and I felt virtuous …

Just before we reached Wallace Island (where Conover Cove is) we heard a Victoria Coast call about a boat adrift off Atkins Reef in Trincomali Channel. I asked L to look up where that was for interest’s sake, but Trincomali Channel is pretty long and odds were we weren’t anywhere near. Turns out we had passed Atkins Reef about 10 minutes earlier and I could have made it back in under 5 if I opened up the throttles. But between the fact that others were responding and I wouldn’t know what to do anyway, we just maintained our heading and listened along on the radio.

I was going to duck past Mowgli Island back into Trincomali, but we spotted a hovercraft in Clam Bay so I stayed our course and scooted by him. It was a Coast Guard hovercraft and I think he was doing buoy maintenance. Unfortunately he was shut down by the time we got there but it gave me an excuse to run the Pearl up to 19 knots for about 4 minutes. Fun stuff; too bad it triples gas consumption.

I went below and fired up the generator because I needed a cup of coffee. I wasn’t sure if running the generator under way was acceptable but Google’s consensus was it was fine: “How else could you run your air conditioning?” It sure is a sign of the times when I can Google boating questions while under way. Not sure why we bother to learn anything… :-). Anyway, Leslie ran the helm from the fly bridge while I coffeed up.

40 minutes or so later we approached Dodd Narrows at almost exactly slack. Perfect planning on my part or dumb luck? A little of both, I guess. We transited smoothly and headed up Northumberland Channel on our way back to Nanaimo. L went below and a few minutes later my lunch appeared courtesy of the magic C-fairy. No one joined me on the windy bridge to eat, though.

Into Nanaimo Harbour and we headed for the fuel dock; I wanted to fuel up to night to save time in the AM. There was a lovely 1920s-era wood boat at the dock and for a moment I was going to chicken out and circle around after he’d left. Eventually pride got the better of me and I brought my behemoth in smoothly in front of the old boat: probably my best dock of the trip. 550+ dollars later and the tanks were full. We cast off and putted back towards Mark Bay and our date with a mooring buoy; we didn’t unship the anchor once this trip.

We picked out a buoy close in to Newcastle Island and C snagged it neatly from the swim grid. Too bad this is our last day; we might be getting good at this. We lowered the tender, shut off the engines and slathered on some sun screen. It was 3 pm by now and we wanted to do some exploring of Newcastle Island. I rearranged the dinghy seating; previously we had tried Someone in back and someone in front as well as Someone in back and someone beside me. Both times the dinghy ran pretty slow. This time I tried L in the bow and C beside me. L got a bit wet at low speeds as we slapped into waves and wakes, but after we got free of the anchorage I opened her up and she popped up on a plane sweet as could be. Again, too bad it’s our last night. Anyway we zipped around for giggles for a bit and then headed into the docks. As we arrived we realized that once again no one had noted the bouy number. Out into the bay, crank the throttle and zoom around the outside back to our boat. I’m pretty sure we were making some wakes for everyone, but hell, we were young and enjoying ourselves.

A smooth docking with the dinghy (something else I am finally mastering) and we headed onto the island. This island is a park run by natives with beaches and trails and some interpretive stuff. We bought an ice cream cone or three (maple walnut of L and B, Nanaimo for C) and walked along the trails. Near the docks was an old quarry where they used to get pulp millstones from for shipping across the continent. Giant tubes of sandstone were cut from the ground and used to grind wood into pulp.

Eventually we followed a trail that took us to the foot of the bay and we doffed our shoes and paddled (not piddled) in the warm water. It’s a great view and quiet and peaceful. After a bit we dried off and headed in the general direction of the docks. We toodled around the point and eventually arrived back at the tender. Aboard once more I scooted across the channel to the public docks and we ogled the rich and famous aboard 60ft-plus yachts. Back into the channel I zoomed around a bit hopping wakes for the entertainment of crew and then slowly threaded our way back to the Ocean Pearl.

An ice-cold beer awaited (our last) and we savoured the taste as we relaxed and ate yet another bag of Doritos. After a bit C started to growl and we sent her off to the galley to play with our evening’s loin. I contributed a beautifully made foil bag for veggies and started the BBQ (which in reality is a Sea-B-Que) and then settled back to blog while dinner magically transformed itself from raw flaccid meat into delicious C-loin: which is different from sea lion. Oh, and I poured some wine … I am sooooo helpful!

What can I say. Meat magic. Sigh.

What followed was a drunken discussion of faith with a sidebar on Christianity and pre-seasoned goose. And the night faded into a 2.5 bottle of red evening…

Oh, and ask me some day about the Ukrainian Bastille Day and the gift of the pop-up Karma Sutra…

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