it was a thrill to turn our backs on sidney and start heading northwards, in the direction of our ultimate goal: alaska! while we are still a long way - in space, time, and theory - it's exciting to be pointed in that direction.
a vague visual depiction of our route - quadruple every length we sailed
leaving sidney spit was a long, slow battle with the tide. it flows strong down around the strait out front sidney island, and it took us an age to escape it. aaron steered us out into haro strait to make the cut over to pender. even though i lived in the gulf islands when i was little, i actually had no clue until now that pender has a north and south island! then again, they were our baseball rivals, and at the ripe old age of four perhaps i didn't care to know.
we made land at port browning on north pender. as we pulled in, i said to aaron that we had stopped here on our last trip south. he was fairly sure that we had never been there, but i was sure we had. one look at the dock reminded me of the time, back in the day (and when we mayne islanders deigned to visit pender) when my sister was eating an apple, looking around, and walked off the end of the dock, losing one of her shoes! that memory jarred my memory of remembering that memory last time we were here - and lo and behold, i was right (mark the day!). we dropped anchor in the spacious harbour with plenty of room to ourselves.
after watching a young couple pile six dogs (no joke) and theirselves into a tender the same size as ours, we rowed ashore to scope out the beach. while magnificent (if showy) houses lined the shore, a fair few scrappy boats decorated the beach, with one small sailboat stranded way up on the rocks. that was our first destination, though it didn't hold much of interest.
we went back toward the marina and chatted with a few local folk while our kids curiously circled each other. we got a few tidbits about points of interest in the area, in true local fashion, then headed back to the boat to call it a day.
the next day dawned warm and bright! finally, i started a day wearing shorts! unfortunately our mainsail had ripped a seam on the way to pender, so we brought the thing ashore to lay out on the beach for repairs - a perfect day for it.
fixin' up right
i was able to follow the existing holes from the machine, otherwise my hand-stitching would've looked horrible. the batton had ripped its pocket and left a ragged tear. copying from of one of our sailing handbooks, i worked a herringbone stitch across the tear, which i thought looked rather neat in the end. to keep the end of the batton from chaffing the new seam, i pushed it up to the end of the pocket and ran a row of stitches along the bottom to hold it in place. it wasn't magnificent handiwork, but it'll do.
sid and sage made friends with a local kid on the beach, and they had fun collecting and feeding caterpillars. our kids do long for other kids' company, and they soon found themselves in quite a social situation. aaron called up an old friend from his whistler days who now lives and farms on pender, and he and his boys came down to the beach to meet up for a hangout. the five young'ns had a great time on the shore while aaron and sean caught up.
after making plans to visit sean's farm the next day, they headed home and we wrapped up our scene on the beach. we wanted to see if the local bookstore had a sequel we are after, so the kids and i found our way to the main drag. somewhere between sidney and here, sids shoes disappeared. he's not all that fond of his gumboots, so like a real island
kid he walked the short walk into "town" barefoot.
the town centre on pender is similar in size to quadra. also like quadra, most places shut down on the early side of things, and we were just a bit late! oh well. the kids amused themselves by crush-hugging a decorative bush, to make the most of the journey. then we scampered back to the boat for a peaceful dinner on board. with these late sunsets, the evening can really get away on us! the kids have been going to bed pretty late, but they seem to be handling it well enough.
we woke to the gentle patter of rain. with a quest back to the book store in mind, we geared up and headed to shore, leaving aaron to find a moment of peace. though it was rainy, the temperatures were still high(er than they have been) and the row to the beach left us feeling clammy in our rain gear. to amuse ourselves on the walk, we sipped raindrops collecting on wild roses. rose happens to be my favourite flavour, and the fresh drops, though infinitesimal, relayed the delicate taste just so. pender is host to an unending number of rose bushes, so this silly sipping amused us all the way back to town.
we were on a time crunch to depart the harbour around one. after seeing the bookstore didn't have what we needed, we grabbed a few groceries, scuttled back to the boat, weighed anchor, and left port browning. our destination for the day, hope bay, was not far. by the time we arrived, the rain had cleared up. we tied to the dock to wait for sean and his boys to show up, which they soon did. sid and sage proudly gave andy and jack a tour of rafiki, if one mainly oriented around toys. they were amused to see food stuffed under the floor and the "large" bed we all sleep in. i have never seen a juicier pair of little curly-haired cherubs, and so delighted at our scene! it was fun to have them on board.
andy can't decide between the spotlight or the cupcakes - lucky fella got both in the end
their homestead was not far from the dock, and we meandered up the delightfully island-y road. i feel like all islands have an "island feeling" to them, if different from each other. the few years i spent on mayne island as a kid surely left their mark, and when i am on any of the gulf islands, there is a specific feeling i get. i'm not sure if it's the visual of casual, quiet roads or the large, gnarly arbutus trees. it could be the smell of broom and soil and oak trees. maybe it's the lay of the land, low and rural, but more tame than the islands i now call home. it could also be memories of banana slugs and centipedes, the way i look to see them like i used to, wandering these woods. most likely it is all these things - i suppose one could summarize by calling it 'familiar'. regardless, i love it.
we passed one driveway with a stunning view and the freshest breeze rolling off it. i stopped to take a photo, enchanted by what i saw - and a moment later sean said, "this is it! this is our farm."
looking into braeloch, through the neighbours driveway
let me tell you, if this was my home, i would give up sailing this very moment and never stray.
just kidding, i could never settle, but if i had to i would wish it could be in a place like this. their farm stretched along a modest valley running east to west, lush with life and achingly beautiful to behold. the farmhouse was strategically placed up on the hill to look down on the property, facing south to gather all the light of day. we met sean's wife, victoria, and the kids fell to playing while aaron and i leaned on the long railing of the deck, wishing and dreaming about being part of land like this.
their farm is called Braeloch, a mashup of the scottish words for "hill" and "lake" and a nod to sean's heritage. sean and victoria are garlic farmers (check out their black garlic!), and this year they were growing a staggering 22,000 plants! though we didn't get the chance for a close-up look at their garlic patch (read: field), we could see it from the house, looking most happy and hale. they are passionate about what they do, and mindful in their practice - and that feeling radiates from the land as if in gratitude from nature itself.
it felt like a trip to hobbiton - and i mean that in the absolute bestest possible way <3
visiting their farm felt like a trip back in time, and we could barely bring ourselves to leave. but we are also self-aware, and to avoid being "those guests" we rounded up our party soon after dinner and said our farewells. the four of us savoured every step through the long grass and buttercups back to the road, taking deep breaths of fresh air and, i think, space. imagining living on 33 acres of open land with so much room made the prospect of cramming back on to our 30-foot boat... less appealing than usual. but back on board, aaron and i mused that for all it's glory, a farm, no matter how charming, holds you to it like a tree to its roots. we agreed (perhaps in a somehwat conciliatory way) that the wandering life is the one for us - and we're sticking to it!
the day after we left pender island was a long one. we were shooting for nanaimo, or close to it, and crossed back over our tracks from the southern part of our gulf island journey. the wind was hither and yon, and we more or less drifted back up the channel. before turning on the motor, aaron said "well, i can't buy wind today", to which i replied (with a most coprophagous grin): "because it's not.... FOR SAIL?!"
ohhhh, the look he gave me.
needless to say, i was not thrown overboard or keel-hauled and by late afternoon all four of us arrived safely at pirates cove. most of us were keen to explore the island, based on the name of the cove alone. sid, however, has been feeling big feelings about being on the boat these days. he isn't loving it as much as he was for the first few weeks, and is being less than agreeable a lot of the time. the trick seems to be getting him past the stubborn hump of disinterest and engaging him in the moment. he's clever, and he resists, but i don't think he can really deny that exploration is incredibly fun.
we wrapped ourselves up in a game of i-spy to get into the swing of things and followed the island trail to the beach. again, the rocks here in the gulf islands blow my mind. each one is practically a sculpture, somtimes huge and stand-alone, other times rolling with the shore. we strolled along a rock that looked like a breaking wave and was studded with tide pools at the base. it flattened out to hold pitted boulders, then gave way to massive stones skirted by logs. one looked like it had puckered lips, ready to kiss (much like this mug that we saw on granville island). the one after it looked like a huge fist. some of the surfaces were swirled like paintings, and wetted by the rain to bring out their colours. the creations within nature are so staggering - i can't get enough.
it turns out de courcy island (in which pirates cove is located) has a colourful history. midden beaches revealed the historical use by the first nations; other than broken shells, though, they didn't leave much trace of what they did here - a credit to their harmonious existence with the land. in the not-so-distant past, the island was home to a cult called the aquarian foundation. a pamphlet available to take held the following story:
another section that we read on the information board by the beach said, "lured by promises of escaping world-wide destruction and attaining immortality on earth, many wealthy individuals moved to de courcy island area during the late 1920's. to become one of the 'chosen', they turned their fortunes over to brother xii, head of the aquarian foundation.
"boaters visiting pirates cove, then known as the haven or gospel cove, sometimes found their wives drawn into joining the colony by brother xii's compelling charm. husbands were discarded unless they had money.
"the colony prevailed six years, complete with high priestesses, a House of Mystery, impending messiahs and armed fortifications. with the arrival of a mysterious woman named zura (known as madam zee) and her bullwhip, a reign of terror began that included beatings and murder. when the police finally closed in, brother xii and madam zee dynamited their paradise and fled."
it's hard to imagine such a sinister organization taking place on this peaceful island - but i guess they didn't call it the wild west for nothing! even still, anything goes on these islands, if nowadays it typically involves less cult-like behaviour... freedom calls all kinds, i suppose.
looking over the marsh - perhaps riddled with treasure? - at rafiki moored in the cove
after amusing ourselves with an old-school water pump (maybe set up by brother xii himself, for all we know!), we wound back along the narrow shore trail to the dinghy dock and back to the boat, just before the rain began again. the hush of water on water put us to sleep, ready to rest up and cross the strait once again tomorrow, with pender harbour in our line of sight.
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