Sitting in Nootka Sound, tucked away in Bodega Cove and listening to the rain. It’s a warm and pleasant day and the misty weather doesn’t bother us at all. I am enjoying my espresso and Torsten is out with the dinghy, equipped with his fishing rod and O-tone the “perfect new hoochie” to catch a salmon. This is our “me time” (is that an oxymoron?): he is secretively enjoying a cigar and his own company, while I am baking fresh bread and writing these paragraphs. Such a cliche.
100 days since we left life as we knew it and cast off from our safe haven in Vancouver. 100 penciled entries in my travel journal, 100 nights with nothing than the stars above us and the sound of waves, wind, and birds, 100 mornings waking up not wondering what time or day it is (partly true, as there were the occasional travel days where it was crucial to have the alarm clock set), 100 stories shared by old friends, new friends, 100 little moments realizing how very lucky we are to live this precious life.
We left Quatsino Sound on July 9th for our 60NM journey around Cape Cook and Clerke Point on the Brooks Peninsula. Light winds allowed us to sail past the Bunsby Islands while we were heading for Blue Lips Cove in Kyuquot Sound. Having this quiet little place to ourselves after a long day on the ocean had been a treat, being joined by Rizpah and Genetay the following day was an unexpected pleasure. We met both boats and their awesome crews in Bull Harbour where we all started our journey around the tip of VI. Throwing a BBQ party and enjoying some Martinis seems a far more civilized way to socialize than just communicating via VHF radio and waving from the distance.
Martinis seems a far more civilized way to socialize than just communicating via VHF radio and
waving from the distance
We continued on to Dixie Cove and I don’t know what I had mentioned in my friendly chat with the owner of the anchoring motor yacht who stopped by in his kayak asking about our plans, but next thing you know, they were weighing their anchor and when they slowly passed by, they just waved goodbye as they were heading for a different anchorage. Torsten teased me all day long while I was wrecking my brain if I had said something wrong. He thought it was hilarious and encouraged me to keep it going – as long as the result is having a cove to ourselves.
We read a lot about provisioning – and the limited opportunities to restock our supplies. Our last shopping spree happened end of June in Port McNeill and we have enjoyed sumptuous meals since then, complemented by fresh fish, crabs, and prawns. I like to cook, no doubt about it, even more with a cooking beer in my hand (after we dropped anchor, of course).
And while we were doing just fine with our groceries, we completely ignored the fact that German beer would be a novelty at any of the sparsely located liquor stores on the west coast. Well, being a practical couple, we quickly adjusted to the beverage of choice (not that there was any). When in Rome … have a “Lucky” preferably an “open one”.
any). When in Rome … have a “Lucky” preferably an “open one”.
We are off tomorrow to meet with some friends from our Edmonton days; they now live in Gold River and we have a date on the beach in Burdwood Bay. We will indulge in the history of Captain Cook’s final negotiation of the Nootka Convention when visiting Friendly Cove before we continue our journey around Estevan Point. Next stop: Hot Springs Cove – let’s get the bathing suits out.
