I had been two years without time off from work and was desperate to
return to the coast. Dave wasn’t going
to be able to go and Greg was a “maybe” but then became a “99% for sure” so I
started planning a 2-3 week trip for the two of us. I had unfinished business on the outside of
Aristazabal and Greg wanted to fish Camaano Sound and the outer coast of
Athlone Island. He preferred to be gone
just two weeks while I felt that I needed more time than that to get my head
right. We agreed that the route would allow
him to break off for the Bella Bella ferry at any point after Athlone Island
while I continued south to Port Hardy.
It was a really ambitious route with a tight timeline, had quite a few
moving parts, some unknowns and would require a precisely-timed window of
perfect weather. It would force me to
average 16+ nm each day rather than the 13 nm that I seem better suited for. No real rest days were included. It would be a continuous grind.
Original Route
A couple weeks prior to departure Greg was forced to withdraw to
attend to some critical family needs so I revised the route and the timeline by
cutting out the time built in for fishing.
That increased the daily mileage requirement by a couple of miles each
day. I wasn’t sure that I was up to it. After all, I was on vacation.
International Relations
The ferry ride from Port Hardy to Klemtu was an interesting exercise in international relations.
As one of the very first walk-ons I made my way up to my favorite
seating area on the starboard side just outside of the Aurora Lounge. Being first in gave me my pick of seats so I
chose a high backed seat front and center to a set of tall windows. Soon others filed in and a tall European man
asked me if the seats were taken.
“Only this one that I’m sitting in” I responded with a smile.
Soon he returned with an older, entourage who I believe were speaking German. They quickly snapped up all of the seats except for the one beside me. Several walked up to the seat and looked down at me as if to say “If you move somewhere else we can sit here”. I was wearing my best welcoming face because I was really looking forward to the company but had no plans of moving. The group in the adjacent trio of seats had an animated conversation that was interrupted only by glances at me and the seat next me. It was as if they were trying to figure out whether to ask me to move and failing that which among them would be so unfortunate as to sit next to me. Finally, a fair-haired woman sat in the seat sideways with her back to me.
I still had hopes for some friendly conversation over the next 8
hours so I extended my hand and said, “Good morning. My name is Jon Dawkins. What is your name?”.
