It was an interesting group of passengers on the ferry: if you want to take a car, you have to ship it over on a barge, which isn't practical or cost-effective, unless you live there. One guy, about my age, tried one of the less original pick-up lines on me "haven't I seen you on this ferry before?" even though I was standing and talking to my chauffeur at the time.
Someone else on the ferry mentioned that dolphins had been seen in the bay four days before, but had no information on how or where to find the feral sheep. Imagine my surprise when I saw this one and a companion in the schoolyard on our arrival!
After being met at the ferry, we piled into a rickety truck for the short ride to my friend's cabin: rustic was how it had been described, and it lived up to that in spades. Propane powered the small oven and three burners, as well as the bar-sized refrigerator, with a wood stove cranking out heat, and a wide range of candles (and one Coleman gas light) and flashlights enabling us to find our way outside to the composting toilet in the night.
Getting settled in basically meant putting all the food and beverages that needed to be cold into the fridge, so we then headed off to the nearest beach. It is neither wide nor particularly long, and covered with pebbles instead of soft sand, but it held a fine collection of pebbles, shells, logs, and one, somewhat windblown, very happy person (above).
Along with a dead jellyfish (below).
Lasqueti has been my business name since I moved to New York City in 1982: I had sailed around it, and I had flown over it, but until November 5, I had not set foot on it. For my milestone birthday this year, I was determined to change that: being able to share it with two friends who helped to make it happen was bonus.
We left to hike down the road to another beach about a kilometre away, with a northern exposure instead of a northwestern one, listening to the wind in the trees, talking about music, food, life, and the mutual friends we shared, and watching the sun filter through the trees from time to time.
A great dinner, lots of perry, beer, and single-malt Irish whisky, and endless talk filled the evening and breakfast the next morning. Despite being in one room that was, in fact, a double-car garage kit that had floor-to-ceiling windows instead of roll-up doors, and "running water" that came from the rainwater collector and which had to be boiled before use, it was one of the best trips I've ever made.
I'll be back. Soon.
It was all over too quickly, with a very rough crossing back to Vancouver Island the next morning: most of the passengers were either horizontal on the benches in the salon, or out under cover on the back of the boat, trying to stave off nausea. Despite the amount of alcohol consumed the night before, we were just fine.
A quick lunch in Nanaimo, a warm ferry ride to Horseshoe Bay, then checking into my hotel in Vancouver en route to a dinner party with friends from high school, and brunch Saturday with another transplanted Calgary friend, finished off my trip. I arrived back in Calgary exhausted, with much work to do in the few days I had before heading off on the road again.
Saturday, 21 November 2015
The shop is currently empty.