All To Ourselves

This boat left soon after we arrived.

We arrive at the Goose Group in late morning. A sailboat is in the main anchorage. I know it is too exposed and has poor holding ground in that spot. I won’t anchor there for an overnight stay. I’ve been here before when the weather was questionable and I returned to the mainland archipelago in gathering darkness to find a secure anchorage. Now we tiptoe into a kelp-fringed bay between Snipe and Gosling Islands. We’re snug in twenty-four feet of water. The other boat leaves and we have all of the islands to ourselves. There is no way to describe this place as the unique, pristine and sacred place it is. Instead this blog is a photo essay. I hope the images convey my sense of wonder and perfection.

It was all ours! But we planted no flags.

Jill sets out to explore.

So do I.

Life is tenacious, even in solid rock.

Flowers too, if you take the time to look.

Fresh wolf tracks in the sand

The tracks led to this well-used trail.

One is left with a sense of how life always was.

The forest is primal, mysterious, forbidding and inviting all at once. I had a sense of being watched.

There are many beaches to explore.

I found wolf tracks nearly everywhere.

A delightful bay, one of many.

Wildflowers grew in profusion.

This is a part of Canada few get to see.

A net float from Japan. Sadly there is plastic everywhere. I recently heard a marine biologist claim that soon the increasing tonnage of plastic waste in the world’s oceans may outweigh the remaining fish stocks.

Goose Barnacles on a piece of flotsam.

Miles above me, hundreds of people hurtle by, oblivious to the amazing beauty below.

An old vertebrae and sea weed.

The force of life seems as powerful as the force of gravity.

Count the rings. Some days I feel that I have nearly as many.

Hot sand warms the icy water returning from the North Pacific.

Jill takes care of business aboard the old prune barge.

In the fading light, I make a final foray ashore.

I imagine a sound of distant drums.

Time to escape the bugs, drink some hot chocolate and go to bed. It’s nearly ten pm.

Dusk fell gently

Dawn followed.

100 pounds of kelp on the hook. I had to get into the dinghy to remove it before I could cat the anchor up for open water.

We sail on into another perfect day. We’re clearly sailing a southward rhumb line. It is called IFC navigation. I Follow Contrails. There are stories of novice sailors actually finding their way to Hawaii by doing this. Mount Calvert in the distance.

Seasoned salts know to grab sleep whenever and wherever they can. A shout of “Whale” ended her dream.

 

If you are unhappy it’s not because of external factors. It’s nobody else’s fault or problem. It’s not because you are poor or live in a small house, or even because you are ill. It’s because you have an inner emptiness that needs to be filled with light, and only you can do that. It is every person’s responsibility to seek that light. Happiness is not a right; it’s an obligation, because without happiness you have nothing to give back to humanity”

From: Walking the Himalayas by Levison Wood quoting from an audience with the Dalai Lama

This is from my friend Tony Gibb’s blog, ‘Sage On Sail’. See the sidebar in my home page for a link.

2 responses to “All To Ourselves

  1. I ache for those beautiful secluded anchorages. Thanks

  2. More to come…pas the bug spray!

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