Landlubber life

Firstly, let me say; I am glad to be home.

Secondly, you must watch this video.

As far as I know, I am the youngest captain to circumnavigate Vancouver Island. That is definitely something to put on my resume! 

*Note to self: Update resume.

After 6 weeks aboard Themistocles, it is amazing to have a dishwasher, an electric stove, unlimited showers, a REAL bed… The list goes on.

However, don't be fooled. I do miss the 'sea life'. I miss the sunrises, the sunsets, the sound of waves lapping against the hull and the sights that we saw everyday. It was truly the most powerful experience of my life. It is something I will never forget.

The trip from Powell River was a day of motoring. The biggest gust we saw was 8kts. Unfortunately, I timed it so we were rounding Cape Mudge as the biggest flood current in a while was flowing. We nearly went backwards as we motored though 6.5kts of current. I decided to scoot over towards the shores of Campbell River as the currents are always less powerful over there. In 60ft of water just off the shore, we were able to make 4kts over ground as we made our way towards the Discovery Harbour. I would like to give them a big shout out, they are a great marina. Truly the best of all the ones we stopped at!

The moment I returned to Campbell River, I felt a sense of belonging, a sense of relief. The moment I held Taylor in my arms, I lost all of the stresses that burdened me. The moment I gazed into her dark brown eyes, I knew that this young lady felt the same. She has my heart and I have hers.

While my life in Campbell River isn't perfect, it is pretty darned close.

Today is the fourth day I have spent on dry land. 

I still have a lot to sort out, but I have a plan. 

- Themistocles will be repaired and transported to Vancouver where it will be sold (I can't afford this beautiful old boat). If you want a fully outfitted cruising boat, send me an email. 45k and its yours!

- Funds will be sorted out and donated to the JDRF as soon as possible.

- And after much thought, I have decided to obtain my Real Estate License and try to slug it out in the tough world of commission based salaries. Do you know any real estate agents in Vancouver looking for an assistant?

- I will be contacting publishers and trying to build relations to have a novel published chronicling my experiences building up to, on, and after the trip. Prepare for a page turner full of adventure, stress, love, and laughs.

I would like to give a huge thank you to everyone who has supported my journey, and everyone who continues to support. Every word, every dollar; everything helps.

Please stay updated on this blog to follow the events! I will try to post once a week if possible. 

Over and out. 

Looking a little grungy; but home.

NEARLY HOME!

Hurried to get underway, I ran up with the keycards and an eager beaver attitude to have the moorage donated from the Gibsons Marina.

As I approached the office, I quickly learn that they aren't open until 8am! It is currently 7:05 and we are leaving ASAP.

I decide to write a short note and include the keys in the envelope. As I go to slip the envelope in the mail slot, I see someone moving in the office.

I knock.

Eventually, a dark haired lady makes her way to the door. She greets me with a not so pleasant, "What do you want?"

I try to explain that I would like to speak with her regarding having moorage donated, but I am quickly cut off and told off. Great.

I hand her the marina keys and the letter which has my contact info and hurry off as quickly as possible.

I make my way back into the marina, start up Themistocles and putter over to the fuel dock to top off our tanks.

As I approach the fuel dock, I see that they also aren't open until 8am either! Fantastic.

I check my phone. It is 7:41. We will wait a little before buzzing for the fuel dock attendant.

After waiting for 15 minutes, I wander over to the buzzer and 'press for service'.

Minutes later I am greeted by a very upset old man. First he unleashes a passive aggressive attack for getting him up so early, but after a few light hearted comments I clue in to the fact that he is serious.

Seriously?

Soon he unleashes a tirade of attacks for being a couple minutes early. The old man makes complaint after complaint. I ignore.

As I go to uncoil the diesel hose to help him out, he quickly barks "JUST WAIT A DAMN MINUTE"

"WOULD WAITING A COUPLE MINUTES REALLY MAKE A DIFFERENCE TO YOUR DAY?"

I quickly take my paws off the hose.

He uncoils the hose, walks it over to the boat and hands me the nozzle. I throw some diesel in the tanks and then re-coil the hose and walk over to the office. I pay with cash and let him keep the change. I don't want to spend another second in his presence. 

I won't be stopping at that fuel dock ever again.

Once again, I fire up ol' trusty and we get the heck out of the marina.

We motor through Shoal Channel at low tide and after a few tense minutes of 14ft deep water, we emerge to the other side and are back into the triple digits.

We point our bow towards Powell River.

The day is boring. We pass a few beautiful sand cliffs, but that is the highlight of the journey. 

I spend the day attempting to catch some rays, but as my wicked 'farmers tan' shows…. I wasn't very successful.

As we near Powell River, I call over VHF to the Westview Harbour. I wait but receive no response. I try again. No response. 

We begin to motor in and after being blown around in 15-20kt winds in this tight marina, we manage to tie up securely.

It is 4:45pm.

We contact Carsen's family and end up meeting his cousin who lives nearby. We head up to his small apartment for a quick dinner.

After munching down some pasta, I make my way back to the marina and have a LONG and VERY HOT shower. It feels so good to be so clean. 

All of the marina facilities in Westview Harbour are nearly brand new; having only been constructed a couple of years ago.

After looking at future careers on my laptop, and dreaming I wander back to the boat. I am exhausted.

As soon as my dark, tanned cheek touches my pillow I drift off into the world of dreams, of fairy tales.

I dream of an angel. A true goddess. A girl with a smile that lights up my world, and deep, dark brown eyes that capture my soul. Captivate me with their gaze. This girl light up my world; both dream and real. I can't believe she is all mine, and not just a dream.

I wake up to the unpleasant sound of a BC ferry. The only downside to Westview Harbour is the fact that the BC ferry dock is RIGHT THERE. As it readies to leave, I can even hear the onboard safety announcements. I hear THREE ferries before I manage to pull myself out of bed. Shortly after waking up, my phone begins to buzz.

It is Kierra, from the Powell River Peak! She is coming down in 20 minutes for an interview. I scarf down a quick breakfast, slurp back some water and check my hair.

Good to go.

I meet her 5 minutes later. We start the interview, and part way through I realize I haven't brushed my teeth. I cant help but smile to myself.

At least you wont be able to tell in the newspaper photo. Right? 

… Right?

After the interview, we decide to meet up once again with Carsen's cousin and are soon joined by his aunt and other cousin! We hit the town and spend the afternoon running errands, after a couple of stops, we head to the pool hall for some nachos and a quick game.

Afterwards, we take the whole gang down to the boat to give them the tour. A mere seconds later and we are done. It is sure easy to give the full tour on a small boat!

We are invited for dinner. I am excited! I've been told countless times by Carsen how amazing his aunts cooking is.

After a spectacular home cooked meal, we head back to the boat. We are loaded up with goodies for desert.

After munching on some of the goodies, I spend some time blogging. I now think it is almost time for bed!

NOTE: TOMORROW WE WILL RETURN TO CAMPBELL RIVER. PLEASE COME DOWN TO VISIT US AT APPROXIMATELY 3:30PM AT THE DISCOVERY HARBOUR!

Over and out. Homebound.

Off to Gibsons

After our dinner together I couldn't bear the thought of leaving her, but that was my reality. Apart, once again. 

Before I hopped out of the car, I gave her one last peck on the lips. A farewell. Her chocolate coloured eyes penetrate my soul as I make eye contact one last time before I leave.

I board the SeaBus and begin my journey back to Kitsilano as the sun begins to set. On the ride across I nearly fall asleep as I am consumed by my daydreams. The ferry thuds into the dock, shuddering from the impact. Startled, I am broken from my daze.

I stand up and wander into Vancouver's Waterfront Station. As I walk the street to my bus stop I can't help but notice the homeless residents of Gastown. I have never seen such sights of despair, the look of sadness, pure and simple, in their eyes.

As I enter the bus, I find it nearly empty. I sit near the back and watch as buildings, lights, people and cars seemed to drift by. Once again, I daydream and I nearly fall asleep. My stop is called and I exit the bus, and begin to walk home. Darkness has nearly consumed the city. I make it to my fathers house just as the last of the sunlight fades away.

I clamber into bed and prepare for the next day. Tomorrow we head off to Gibsons, after I see Taylor for one last time as we visit a local Culinary School.

I awake early. My phone and laptop have both died, so I charge them. I grab myself a bowl of cereal before I begin to pack all of my gear to bring back to the boat. My father has already left for Langley; for work.

I pack everything into one 35L backpack and after a cup of coffee and some fruit, I am good to go! I begin to walk towards the culinary school and after passing countless road construction sites as the sun beams down on me (There are two seasons in BC… Winter and Road Construction) I arrive at the school, hot, sticky and thirsty.

As I round the corner, I once again lay eyes on the most beautiful girl in the world. After dropping the 40lb backpack I run up and bear hug her. 

After a short meet and greet once again, Taylor, Sherry, Chace and I wander up to the school for Taylor's tour at 11am. We are quickly introduced to Farooq, the schools career placement assistant/tour guide. After an introduction, Farooq gives us a run down on the programs curriculum and begins to give us a tour of the teeny, but passion filled school. 

I am dazzled by the intimacy of the programs, with only 12 students per class, it is a very hands on learning experience. Fifteen minutes into the tour, I know I must go. I shake Farooq's hand, hug Taylor, and wave goodbye to Sherry and Chace. Donning my 40lb backpack, I briskly exit the building and meet up with Carsen who has just arrived outside.

We are late. I begin to jog towards the bus stop to catch our 11:44 bus. We manage to make it to the stop as 11:42 rolls around. We hop onboard and hope we can make it to the Seabus in time!

As we get off at Waterfront Station, we are the only people on the bus. Eerie.

As I saunter into the station, I notice the SeaBus has just arrived, and i about to make another trip back.

Already late, I know I cannot afford to wait another 15 minutes for the next SeaBus. I begin to run. 

Just as we board the SeaBus, the gates close and the doors shut. Just in time.

During the 15 minute ride across, I am consumed by teenage angst and worry. I find that I always get a little stressed before we leave a port that we have been in for a while, but this one is different. My heart is throbbing and I feel sick.

I feel like Vancouver is home. It is such a beautiful city, my dad lives here, and Taylor is planning on attending school here as well.

I know also, that we discussed with the marina a relatively strict 12pm departure time. It is 12:06 already. Great.

I also do not know how much fuel we have left. Do we have enough?

We are on a strange side tie moorage, are we blocked in?

However, all of these worries are overwhelmed by the single most powerful emotion I know. Love.

I miss Taylor beyond what I ever thought was possible to miss a person. My heart strains when I think of her.

I am shocked out of my angst by, once again, a shudder as the SeaBus hits the dock. These things must get a beating!

As Carsen and I hop off the SeaBus, I begin to walk briskly towards the marina. I sort out moorage and race to the docks. We are not blocked in. We have enough fuel for the day.

We fire up ol' trusty Themistocles and within minutes we are out of the marina and under way towards the Lionsgate bridge.

After nearly three hours of motoring without a lick of a breeze, I see a BC ferry. I know, that onboard that ferry right now, is Taylor, her mom and her brother. 

Taylor texts me. She can see our little boat!

I wave, but I know she cannot see us. My little heart flutters with joy.

As we near Gibsons, I am relieved. It has been a short day of sailing, and I cannot complain. We are nearly home.

As we enter Gibson's I call up the marina on the VHF and we are given our directions to our slip. We enter the marina, find our slip without issue, and tie up. Today has been an uncharacteristically issue free day on the boat.

Today marks week 5 onboard Themistocles. Thanks for keeping us alive you old boat!

The Wise Island, and my Old Man.

I know the day ahead will be stressful, I wake up early and cook up some breakfast as per the 'norm'. Today we exit the same channel we entered on our way into Sooke. I am not scared, not worried, just amped up. I know I need to be on the ball.

After a quick breakfast, I start up our now seemingly trusty diesel and begin to putter on out of the Sooke Basin. Slack tide is reported to be in approximately 15 minutes; we have no time to waste. I weave through the maze of channel markers and avoid countless crab trap floats before nearing the area that we hit just days before. 

I tense up as we pass only a couple hundred feet north of it, but mere seconds tick by and we are safe.

We are back out on the open waters, heading towards Victoria, and the East coast of Vancouver Island!

Unfortunately, all marinas in Victoria are full; every single one! So, today is going to be a long day! We are headed directly for Wise Island; a small island just West of the popular Gulf Island get-away - Galiano Island. Carsen has family friend who have a cabin… and dock on the island. BIG shout out to the MacNab's for allowing us to stay there.

As we leave Sooke, the haze of light mist on the horizon begins to lift and burn off as the temperatures begin to exceed 20 degrees Celsius. Unfortunately though, the wind is light and not a single sailboat is sailing. As we near Victoria, the wind begins to pick up and we start to see 10kts off our beam. We hoist the genoa and continue motor-sailing… Just like everyone else.

As we begin to get closer to Victoria the amount of water traffic begins to pick up! Ferries, fishing boats, freighters… You name it, we see them all! We are forced to weave and dodge for a couple hours are we pass alongside Victoria.

As we round Discovery Island and the Oak Bay area, the amount of traffic begins to die down. I can lessen my guard a little.

We continue to motor-sail as we hug the Canada/United States border for miles as we head north to Wise Island.

After dodging various reefs and rocks, we can almost see Wise Island! Near Sidney, the water traffic begins to pick up again! Over the period of an hour we see 12 ferries! As we pass alongside Stuart Island in the United States, I take a photo for my beautiful girlfriend. Stuart is her surname.

After rounding Parker Island and the little rock known as Turtle Island we can see the back side of Wise Island! I motor alongside the teeny 1km long island and within seconds, the cove and the MacNab dock is in sight. I am shocked to see it is MAYBE 18ft long… A wee bit short for our heavy 34ft long sailboat. 

Not deterred, I nose in and pull alongside. With 8ft hanging off either end of the dock, our boat looks a little overpowering in the teeny cove. 

As the sun sets, I see just how majestic this place is. It is no more than a giant rock covered in a hundreds of young Arbutus and Cedar trees, but it holds a feeling of peace. It is easy to walk from one end of the island to the other in just a few minutes and not see a single soul. Subdivided into 50 lots in the 1960's, Wise Island has been dotted with many amazing summer homes and cabins ever since. It has no power, no sewage, to internet. NOTHING. Every single cabin is self sufficient, drawing water from a well, using solar and wind power and having their own septic system. It is perfect.

We spend our days reading, kayaking, catching rock crab and exploring the many nooks and crannies.

One day, I kayak the 4km over to Montague Harbour and manage to Hitch-Hike up to the local hotel/pub to use their wireless internet. I am welcomed by many kind faces of the happy locals of Galiano Island. Everyone is so at peace, so happy and not hurried on this tiny island. After quickly checking my email, I wander back down to the kayak and endure the 4km ride back to Wise Island against a slight current. Torture. 

I log approximately 9-10km of kayaking that day and walk at least 6km. That is enough excersize for me! After walking back up to the cabin, I slump into the couch and curl up with a book. After another hearty dinner, we settle down and watch a movie. Something so foreign to us. Television. 

I fall asleep half way through the film. I manage to get myself back into my bed. Somehow. 

I awake at 7:30am in preparation for our 9am departure. We must leave at 9am in order to make our passage though Porlier Pass at slack tide.

We depart the dock at 8:58am. Perfect.

As we motor towards the narrows, we are joined by an entourage of a number of other sailboats and motor boats all trying to make a passage through Porlier at slack tide.

We are the first to pass through the narrows in our group of sailboats. We are followed by seven others, many of whom turn Northwards. We are tailed by a beautiful ~45ft long wooden ketch all the way to Vancouver. As we round UBC, they turn towards the RVYC, and we continue to motor onwards through the field of tankers towards the Lionsgate Bridge.

As we ready to pass underneath, I see a HUGE tanker coming towards us, heading West. I hug Stanley Park and wave at the people on the Sea Walk. 

We slip alongside the tanker without a worry.

As we near Mosquito Creek marina, I send my dad a text letting him know that we are here!

Mosquito Creek is a confusing marina to say the least. The entrance is hidden, and the layout is strange. Getting lost in a marina is definitely a stressful experience. However, after avoiding numerous multimillion dollar yachts in the Burrard Yacht club, we find our slip back in the Mosquito Creek Marina and tie up without a worry. We sort everything out, plug in to shore power and begin to pack up our clothing.

We are staying at my dads!

A half hour after docking, my dad rolls into the parking lot and picks us up. After a quick hello, hugs and happy smiles, we clamber in to his car and speed off to Kitsilano Point; his home. Travelling at 80km'h is nerve wracking! Weaving and dodging traffic is so foreign. I miss it.

I say very little during the ride. I am exhausted. I am exhausted everyday.

We arrive and I explore his new place. It is a cute little townhouse just blocks from the beach. It is fantastic. 

I see my little sister, and the glow in her eyes lights up my heart. I smile. I've missed the little goof.

After an amazing dinner and a walk on the beach, I pass out in bed. I have amazing dreams and I wake up to the sound and smell of coffee being made. Perfect. So perfect.

I rouse myself from the clutches of sleepiness and go have a shower. When I emerge, I am greeted by fresh coffee and waffles! I feel so spoiled, so pampered. So relaxed.

After downing a HUGE breakfast I wander out onto the patio and enjoy the morning sun as I type this blog you are now reading. 

Enjoy the photos folks, and don't forget to donate! 

Over and out.

Bamfield to Port Renfrew, to Sooke!

I saunter on down the dusty road as the sun begins to peak above the mountain crests surrounding Bamfield on every side. It is 8am, and I am going to skype Taylor one last time and then go see my uncle Phil as he has insisted he give me some grocery money before we leave Bamfield and head to Port Renfrew. As unwilling as I am to accept money for my personal uses, I can't turn it down. Some sausages, ground beef for pasta, pork chops and maybe some bacon is sounding VERY good right now.

As I near the community school/library I send Taylor a text letting her know I will Skype her in five minutes.

I clamber on up the steps, whip out my laptop and within seconds I see a familiar face on my tiny macbook screen. I see a face that makes my heart flutter, butterflies form and my head spin. I see a face that I love more dearly than anything. Ever.

We talk plans. What Taylor is doing for school. Her life plan.

She is smart. More than coherent. She has her head screwed on right, and knows where she wants to go in life. This makes me very happy and I cant help but wear a smile the whole time we talk.

After a quick chat, we hang up and I begin to wander down to the RCMP boat to see Phil one last time. After graciously accepting his bail out money, we chat and realize that we may see each other in Sooke!

After our goodbyes, I begin to speedwalk back to the boat. We had a departure deadline of 8:30 and it is already 8:35.

I get back to the boat at 8:45 and fire the ol' beast up.

We pass the RCMP boat, Inkster, soon after departing our moorage. We wave as we pass them and we receive a couple of friendly waves back. We are out of Bamfield inlet before 9am.

As we are motoring westward Cape Beale the wind is non-existent, but the fog is thick. 

I hear a rumble in the distance… off our stern. I turn around and see a 60ft long aluminum boat flying. ABSOLUTELY FLYING. It is the 'Inkster' cruising along at 30+kts heading for Tofino.

They wave as they pass, and we return the gesture with a couple of waves.

We head south, toward Port Renfrew in a debilitating fog. Visibility is no more than a couple hundred feet.

Wind is non-existent, and so is sailing.

We enter Port San Juan around 4pm and head in towards the community dock. All of the sudden, it appears out of the fog. I spot and empty space and head straight towards it. Just as we are approaching the dock space, we are 'told off' by a number of rather blunt locals. As I begin to reverse out, the wind shifts, quickly. The 20kt breeze is no longer in our favour in blowing us towards the dock. It is now off our starboard quarter and blowing our blowing our stern quickly towards a number of other boats. Our prop walk which pulls us to port is no help either! I crank the wheel all the way over and apply 'ample' amounts of throttle as Carsen fends us off one aluminum sport fishing boat. We spin out of there without touching a single boat.

We head towards the our next best bet, the 'Pacific Gateway Marina'. As we near the marina, I see that nearly all the slips are full and they appear to only be 24ish feet long. As we near the marina, we are told that if we wait until 6pm we can tie up at the fuel dock. That sounds perfect!

I yell out "thank you!" and we motor off to go kill an hour. As we putter on out under idle, Carsen tries to fish as I keep our bow pointed into the wind.

After 50 minutes of unsuccessful fishing, I put our stern to the wind and head back to the marina. As I enter, the depth sounder reads 10, 9, 8. Scary for our 6ft of draft!

We make it to the fuel dock without an issue and after tying up, I notice the sounder reads 11.9ft. Perfect!

As I finish creating our spring lines, I hear a familiar voice. 

It can't be the voice of my grade six teacher can it!? I turn around and see Linda Dwyer. My grade six teacher! I am surprised to say the least! 

After a quick introduction, I realize it was her husband Dan who helped coordinate the fuel dock tie up! 

What a small world!

We chat for a bit, I learn that she is retired and living the 'good life' on the West Coast now. I am thrilled to see a familiar face.  After some photos, our moorage is donated to us. We thank them, and let them go for dinner. We wander up to the local grocery store. We stock up on some sausages, bananas, dried fruit, and other small snacks.

After a quick dinner, I leave my dishes in the sink, and convince Carsen to go explore the beach just hundreds of feet from us. I am drawn in by the big swells breaking over the San-Juan River bar.

We go explore the dark, iron rich sand beach and discover all sorts of neat skipping stones. The sun begins to set over the mountains, and the fog begins to roll in. We walk through 'downtown' Port Renfrew and after a quick walk to the bridge, we bee-line back to the boat.

I slump into my bunk with freshly brushed teeth and curl up with my favourite blue blanket.

Seven hours later, I am roused by the familiar cranky alarm of my phone. I hit snooze. I fall asleep. 10 minutes later I hear the same upsetting noise. I hit snooze once more, but remain awake. 

I hear the many fishing charters heading out for a day of action packed fishing. I roll out of bed and wander up to the marina office. Fresh, hot, GOOD coffee is being served. I talk to the kind lady and after purchasing two coffee's for me and Carsen she kindly donates to the cause and wishes me good luck.

As I step aboard the boat, I find Carsen up and making breakfast. I set the coffees down. A small wave rolls underneath us, I feel the boat shudder.

I pause.

Another small wave rolls under, and the boat shudders again. Immediately I know we are nearly resting on bottom. The tide is on its way out, and if we wait around, we will be stuck! I holler at Carsen to untie us as I fire up the engine. I motor in reverse, but we are stuck!

I tell Carsen to hop onboard and after once again using 'ample' throttle I pull us off the sand bar back into 7ft deep water. Travelling at nearly 3kts backwards in a 34ft long sailboat with a skeg hung rudder and nasty prop walk in a tight marina is quite the wake up! We barely slip out of the marina with 6.5ft under our keel.

I feel bad that I never said goodbye to everyone we met at the marina, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Once outside and in 10ft deep water, I spin around and begin to head out of Port San Juan. We slowly reach deeper water. 20, 30, 40, 50, 60. Each foot deeper brings relief.

Carsen finishes up cooking up breakfast before we exit Port San Juan. We eat it just as I turn south, towards Sooke. On route to Sooke isn't very interesting. The waves reduce in height as we seek protection behind Cape Flattery, and the wind remains around 8-10kts. Perfect for motorsailing.

As we near Sooke, I begin to have to weave between small fishing boats. As we round Whiffin Spit, the tide begins to turn and we begin to get sucked around in the strong currents. 

I have a hard time keeping control, and as I am about to turn to enter the Sooke Basin, everything stops. Time pauses.

All I hear is CRASH. We must have run aground! The current sweeps us away in a small whirlpool of water. Carsen dashes below to check all the through hulls and bilge, but finds no ingress of water.

I thread the narrow channel into Sooke and find an open spot at the Government Wharf. I tie up and immediately begin inspecting the boat. The bilges are dry. The through hulls are solid. I inspect the area surrounding the keel. No noticeable cracks or fibreglass damage.

We are lucky.

Although everything was tossed about down below, the boat appears sound. Using our boathook, I feel the front of the keel. All feels undamaged except for the fibreglass at the forefoot of the keel feels rough. 

This is going to require a haul out.

Well, at least the boat appears unharmed. The bilges are dry, the rigging appears sound and I see no fibreglass damage.

I take a break on the dock. I sit down and stretch my tense back. I realize i've been clenching my jaw since the incident. It hurts.

I unwind. I know we are in no immediate danger.

Carsen and I wander into town, find wifi, peruse the local grocery store and then head back down to the boat for a relaxing pasta night with extra, extra ground beef!

As I begin to boil the water, I hear a tap on the hull. Luckily it isn't us shuddering on the bottom. It is the harbourmaster, Linda coming to welcome us and take our dues. 

Even after calling ahead to explain our situation, and talking to her on the dock, we are forced into paying moorage. However, she gives us a VERY stellar rate and she donated some of her personal money towards the cause. Thanks Linda!

After dinner, I climb off the boat to go enjoy the benefits of dry land once again. Here I am, blogging away.

Please note that due to a number of reasons both personal and due to todays touching of earth, the route of the rest of our journey will be been modified. Even though the boat appears unharmed, it will need to be hauled out to be inspected and the keel repaired. We are no longer entering U.S. waters and will be taking a slightly shorter route home, to Campbell River.

The boat will continue to be sailed in its current condition, as it appears sound and safe. It is a slight mishap which scared the living daylights out of us, but we (including Themistocles) are 'A okay' and you need not worry.

Please enjoy a couple of photos!

Over and out.