Great evening. Ran
with the wind up the coast for a few miles and out into the strait to a bay
tucked behind a small island where we can always get some crab. Only took a few minutes to jig for bait, cut
it up and drop the trap over the side.
Nice big hamburger for Butkus, crab and a chilled bottle of pinot gris
for me. Turned on the anchor light and
my headlamp and read for a while and that was it. Simple yet satisfying.
Little twinge about how nice it would be to
share an evening like this with a lady, but…
Like I said yesterday, Mondays isn’t a work day, so free to
dawdle. For me, a quiet day never
involves sleeping in; never has. Even
when I was a kid, I’d be the first one out the door on a Saturday morning. Luckily my friend Stewart, two doors down and
with St. Vitas Dance, was an early riser too.
Anyway…
Was up at dawn and had my morning dip and the coffee made
before the sun broke over the hills on the mainland. Leisurely sail, tacking to save gas, and was
back in Midden Harbour before noon.
Decided to walk down to the office to check email. Refuse to have it on the boat, partly because
of cost, but mostly because when I’m out in places like Blubber Bay, where I
was last night, I don’t want it. Ten minute walk from the marina to The
Shoreline building, most of it along an
sagging boardwalk that was built decades ago to move fish.
Probably a good time to tell you a little bit about Midden
Harbour. If I’m going to be detailing my
life on this blog it might help for you to have some context. Maybe I’ll post a map at some point; right
now that is far beyond my limited technical capacity.
The marina is on the inside of a curved peninsula; the town
Is on the peninsula which is actually little more than a sandbar with a hump in
the middle. The curve protects the
harbour from open water making it safer in rough weather. It also made it easier to unload fish when
the cannery, which was the town’s original business, was in operation.
You leave the marina by walking along the cannery’s old
boardwalk and that leads to a short, narrow street—more of an alley—that
runs into the side of main street. Not called Main Street, though. A tribute to the imagination of the
founders. It’s called Beecher Street,
not after the Simon and Garfunkel song, but after the street in New York, the
city where Ingram Snow, the main pioneer came from.
Have I confused you enough yet?
That’s probably enough for today.
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