After a visit with Patrick, Gail, Lyman and Janeane, we gain some useful information and leave Squirrel Cove to cross the Strait of Georgia. Whiskey Golf is not active, so we can go more directly across to Nanaimo, and the weather is more favorable today than the predictions for tomorrow.
It is good sailing today.
A very familiar scene is a tugboat pulling a large load. Sometimes I cannot get the whole train in my viewfinder.
Making our way across the Strait, we encounter a bit of wind, and hear our courtesy Canadian flag making her presence known.
We can see land on both our port and starboard, and I am reminded that I promised my children I would never go so far out that I could not see land.
Herb tells me how many miles we are from that land....
More products going to market.
Once we approach Nanaimo, we call the Harbourmaster for fuel and moorage for the evening.
We are disappointed to learn that there is a waiting list for this popular destination, and they promise to try to find space for us in due time.
They suggest we find our own spot on Docks C, D, or E, or raft up to a commercial vessel on those docks while we wait. At first we do not see any vacancies, so choose Black Bear to visit on C Dock.
How the heck will I tie onto this baby!!!
I see a huge 'cleat' and with all my emergency energies and will, I jump off and tie up the stern. Herb hops off and secures the bow. No one is home.
I see someone leaving from D Dock on our port side, and all we have to do is slip over there. Shore power and water available, and no walking Jake across another boat to go to shore.
After we release the lines from Black Bear, Herb goes forward a bit, then reverse into the space between two fishing vessels.
We are home!
Beautiful job, Herb!
To borrow a phrase from a friend of ours, "We don't need no stinking" stern thrusters!
Shortly after we are settled in, we hear voices on Black Bear and they call "Hello" to us.
We tell them that we had been 'neighbors' for a few minutes. They welcome us to the riff raff section and they think we may have brought down the neighborhood somewhat.
Mr. Riff raff gives me a lesson in tugboat terminology and corrects me on calling the bollard a cleat!
This is way better than being on N Dock today.
On our walk to the ice cream shop on shore, we pass the pristine fishing vessel just ahead of us, and marvel at the large size of its ice chests.
Willie of Willie's Tug,
and Walldog, Willie and Jake