The requisite 'Year End Review'...

And 2011 comes to a close. It was a great year for us, full of adventure, transitions, development, and happiness. We achieved all of our goals for the year (and how often can you say that?!), including some huge life alterations.

A few highlights--

Where we live:
-spent many many weekends driving all over the Pacific NW looking at boats to buy (Jan-March)
-bought our first home (which also happened to be a sailboat) (March)

-moved out of 8035, our residence for 3 years (April)
-started living aboard Halcyon (April)
-sailed our home up the coast of BC (June-July)
-became Canadian residents (and therefore qualified for Canadian health care) (July)

Where we work:

-received unofficial job offers from PacificWILD, pending work visa (February)
-(finally) received Canadian work visas (June)
-moved to Canada (July)
-started our jobs at Pacific Wild (July)

What we do:
(perhaps not surprisingly, I have many  more pictures of "what we do" than I do of "where we work"...) 


-raced sailboats ALOT (Jan-June)







-went to Mexico (March)
-were initiated into the world of never-ending boat projects (March)



-won the Van Isle 360 (with the help of the extraordinary crew of Kotuku, of course) (June)

-caught lots of salmon (July-September)







 
-started planning our wedding (August)


And a few things Stayed the same:


-Chaco stayed with us through every transition, adapting perfectly to life on the boat, and relishing life on Denny Island




-The way my heart feels when I hug my husband-to-be

2012 promises to be an equally pivotal year, with sailing adventures, vocational successes, travel expeditions, and a new piece of jewelery!

Winter Projects

When we bought the boat (9 months ago now!) we talked a lot about our "winter projects" list.
This is an imposing list of things to fix or change, best done in the "quiet" months of the year. The list contains such daunting tasks as:

-add refrigeration
-remount engine
-replace water tanks
-refinish sole (floor)

Now it's the end of the December, and we're still talking about our "winter projects". I'm starting to recognize that this "winter projects' list could simply grow year after year without shrinking much at all. There is always a reason not to start the project yet.

Well, I worry no more. Two nights ago, I came home to this:

This is John, crouching on the seat under which rests (one of) our completely useless leaky water tank, surveying the best way to saw open our perfectly functional settee.

There were no power tools out yet, but a whole lot of head-scratching had already taken place. I encouraged it. In fact, I went to the shop to retrieve the power tools!

And three hours later, it looked like this:

Night number two saw us scrunching ourselves uncomfortably trying to finagle the tank out the boat with out scratching the wood.

We now have a very practical...pit...in the boat:

While our maimed tank sits, broken and dejected, on the dock:

Sorry broken and dejected tank, but had you not sprung so many leaks we would not have disowned you quite so readily!

Next step: order new tanks in strange dimensions and hope Santa's sleigh has a cheaper delivery option than Shearwater and Canada Post... 

And the first (of many) winter projects is underway.

Same and Different

Over Thanksgiving this year we spent a week in Seattle- visiting friends, eating lots, and buying things! The pertinent part for this blog is all the questions our friends in Seattle had. They made me realize I have not done a very good job portraying our life on this blog! So over the next few blog posts I'm going to try to paint a picture of life in our home, at our job, and in this wonderous place.

Let's start with life on a boat. We live on a sailboat, a unique lifestyle we have taken for granted, surrounded as we are by other boat-centric people. Our boat is 40' long and 12.5' wide at it's widest point. If you exclude the cockpit and take into account the tapering hull, we probably have about 250' of living space. This may seem small. That's because it is. We downsized considerably to move aboard. But it's amazing what you learn you don't need when you don't have the space for it!

To see pictures and to get an idea of the layout of our home, read this post.

Taking an average land-dweller's home, here are some similarities and differences between our life and yours.

The Bedroom
Same:
~We sleep in a full sized bed with plenty of foot room (enough, even, that there's extra so Chaco can keep our feet warm on the coldest nights).
~We have a hanging locker [closet] with plenty of space for our limited selection of hanging clothes.**

Different:
~Aside from the bed, our bedroom consists of 4 square feet of standing space. Only one person can stand in there at a time
~We get gently rocked to sleep most nights (and violently pitched around some nights...)
~The hanging locker butts up to the hull, so we have to watch for condensation (it's also, technically, outside the bedroom, but just barely).
~There is a small entrance into the bed, so some acrobatics are involved if the person on the inside wants to get up first

The Dog Bed:
Same:
~Chaco has a dedicated bed where he spends most of his time when we're home

Different:
~His bed is above the couch!

The Galley [kitchen]
Same:
~We have a full galley complete with a stove, oven, two sinks, counter space, and lots of storage. I challenge you: anything you can make in your kitchen I can make in my galley. I bake lasagna, make bread, and cook homemade pizza.
~When we are at the dock, we tie directly into a hose that runs from a rain collection cistern and so we have pressurized water

Different:
~We don't have refrigeration, but this time of year that is not a problem. We keep things we want cold in a box in the cockpit, easy to reach from the companionway [doorway].
~We have a manual foot pump that pumps in salt water to conserve freshwater when it doesn't rain enough (ha!) or if we're not at the dock
~When we are not at the dock, our freshwater comes from a 5-gallon jug (*this is only because our water tanks leak, once we replace those, we will have running water all the time)

The Work space 
Same:
~Our [nav station] desk houses work, electronics, and paperwork, and is frequently cluttered! 
~We have a great sound system with speakers throughout the boat including in the cockpit [back porch].
~We can listen to our Ipod or to the radio (though we only get one station- that's not because we live on a boat, that's because we live in a very remote place!)
~When we are at the dock, we plug into shore power and have all the lights, electronics, and hot water we want

Different:
~We get our internet through a cell "dongle" that connects to John's computer. (My computer is too old to support the software, so I go to the house to use the internet).
~When we are not at the dock, we are limited to the electricity our batteries put out. This means less lights, limited electronics, and no hot water (unless the engine is running)

The Head [bathroom]:
Same:
~We have a bathroom with a toilet, sink, showerhead, mirror, and storage

Different:
~The toilet has a manual hand pump to flush, and flushes with sea water. It can either go into a holding tank and get pumped out or go overboard.
~We use marine-grade toilet paper that degrades quickly
~We do not have a separate shower stall, so the whole bathroom gets quite wet during a shower. We chose to shower up at the house, since that option is available to us right now, and much simpler. 

The Vee [guest room]:
Same:
~We have a guest room!
~It has a bed and lights and shelves and sheets and pillows (it's comfy, come try it out)

Different:
~It is in the shape of a "V", so you play footsie with your sleeping partner
~It rocks gently in the wind and waves
~The window is above your head, and provides a beautiful view of the stars (or...clouds...)

Heat:
Same:
~Our home has a heater. While I don't think I can call it centralized heat, the heater is quite central

Different:
~We use a diesel stove to heat the boat
~To turn on the heater, we prime the stove by letting some diesel into the cup, soaking a piece of paper towel, lighting the paper towel, dropping it back in the diesel, and hoping it catches before the paper has burned up.
~The fuel comes from our main fuel tank, there is a small electric pump that pumps the fuel into the heater. It makes a dull 'thump' every 5 seconds or so from the engine room. I've come to expect the sound, like the ticking of a clock, and miss it when it's not there

Cockpit [back porch]:
Same:
~We have a fantastic back porch, which is great for parties, summer evening dinners, and sunbathing
~We enter our home through a doorway from the back porch
~This space is unhelpful in the winter, and serves primarily as a wet, slippery entrance to our home

Different:
~We also drive our home from our back porch
~The door into the boat is two wood panels that slide into place vertically and a large panel that slides horizontally over the top. There is no door knob. (but don't worry, mom, there is still a lock)
~The use of this space practically doubles our living space in the summer, when we can leave the door open because it's warm and sunny (ahhh)


**After I wrote this post, I read it to John and he pointed out how skewed my vision is- the hanging locker I describe as having "plenty of space" is 3' wide, 4' tall, and 2' deep. Everything we hang, hangs in there.  I'm sure many other things I think of as "same" are actually quite "different", at least in scale!

Good Morning!

This morning, I woke up and got dressed for work. Like most of you probably did. But that may be where the similarities end.

Here's what I put on:

-a pair of smartwool leggings
-a pair of mountain khaki work pants
-a pair of wool socks
-a short sleeve shirt
-a long sleeve shirt
-a fleece
-a pair of waterproof sailing bibs
-a waterproof puffy winter coat (the warmest thing I own)
-a pair of rubber boots
-a beanie (they call them 'toques' (too-ks) here)
-a pair of very thick diving gloves

And I was cold. It's not so much the temperature, but the constant biting wind and the perpetual precipitation falling from the sky.

But then the sun peaks out, and the stunning beauty makes it easy to forget how cold and wet you are.

And to help you experience that beauty:
Coming soon to a blog near you: a photo blog by John!

Shearwater

I recognize this post is a bit...late. But I never remember to take my camera when we go to town!

"Town" is generally Shearwater. Which, you will see in this post, is not much of a town at all. The "big city", on the other hand, is Bella Bella.

Now first, it seems many of you still don't really know where we are. For shame! Google maps is your friend. But to help you out, click on this link. Zoom in, zoom out, click on markers, go crazy!

http://www.zeemaps.com/map?group=283792&x=-128.1196&y=52.1583&z=6

Now that you know what part of the world we live in, here's some Shearwater details. But first, I can't let a post slip by without mention of the weather! So notice the beautiful sky in all of these pictures, and how everyone is out and about, enjoying this lovely Saturday afternoon.

The town:

The restaurant/bar/only place to eat out:

The shopping strip- includes laundromat, showers, toy store, and coffee/boutique/hair dresser:

The grocery store and post office in foreground, the hardware store/marine store/boat yard/engine repair in the background:

The hardware store/marine store (boat yard/engine repair in background):

Main Street:

The "sporty lodge", where all the sport fishermen stay in the summer. This lodge came in on a barge, and is still on a barge. They simply filled in gravel behind it. You can still see the rubber barge edges as you walk in the front door. This way you have a waterfront view and if (when) the fish all bugger off from this coast because there is a -ok, I said no more political blogging- They can simply move the resort to the new great fishing spot - which hopefully someone discovers soon on an as-of-yet undiscovered perfectly habituated planet in a new solar system...

The dock. Filled with fishing boats this day because of a gale coming in (it blew 50 knots that night). In the summer- packed with cruisers. In the winter- completely and eerily empty:

And there you have it. Your Shearwater tour is complete. Now COME VISIT and see it for yourself.

Occupy the Media

I don't usually post political things, I try to stay out of all that mumbo jumbo....and this article is distinctly Canadian, which most of you are not....BUT I like what he has to say, and I think this is a good one to get out to the masses. So I ask you to read it, think about it, and maybe pass it along if you think it's a message more people should hear.

“

Don't let the corporate media define 'Occupy' ...   

Media focuses on camps, ignores issues - as usual   

The Corporate Media is the propaganda arm of Corporate Canada. Right now the media is trying to 'define' the Occupy movement in a negative way. And all of the rest of us 99% must remember that The Media is the mouthpiece of the 1%; it is not our friend, it cannot be trusted, and we must always watch the corporate media with an eagle's eye because it never stops trying to lie to us and mislead us about everything of importance.

Since the big 'Occupy Protests' of a few weeks ago, the media has focused all of its attention on 'the camps' that have been set up across Canada. Here in Victoria, the focus is on the camps around Victoria City Hall and in Vancouver. It is relatively easy for the media to make the camps 'look bad', and now someone has died in Vancouver and the officials are saying that the camps have to go. There may be trouble and it will all end with anger which is what Corporate Canada wants.

But the camps are not the Occupy Movement, only a small part of it. The media is focusing on the camps because that is where they want the focus to be. They DON'T want the focus to be on what the movement is really all about, and that's because they want us to forget about that. Occupy is about the lack of democracy in Canada, but there is little mention of that in the corporate media. Occupy is about the corruption of our governments by the billionaires and the elites, and how those people are bankrupting entire nations and destroying our planet. Occupy is about the 'free trade deals' the 1% have imposed on us; deals that have cost us hundreds of thousands of jobs and led to record corporate profits and record homelessness and record food bank use. Occupy is about the nuclear disaster in Japan that is going to kill millions of us, and about how all the Big Media is corporate and how it lies to us and misleads us every day of the year. All of that is what Occupy is about, and The Media's job is to make us forget it - if they can.

The media could be leading us in a discussion about how to improve our democracy and make it work better for us, but they aren't. The media could be giving us information about how we can fix up our tax system, but they aren't. The media could be telling us about climate change and fracking and how we can move towards a sane environmental policy, but they aren't. Instead the media are focusing on a few dozen people living in tents. Why are they doing this? Because that is where they want the focus to be. And until the rest of us come to grips with how corrupt and manipulative the Canadian media is, we are going to keep losing. We've got to keep our eyes focused on our real enemies; and the real enemies are the corporations, their politicians, and their media. And we have to keep some real solutions in mind, and in my opinion two of the best solutions are more democracy and a free press. Let's Occupy That.

jack etkin

”

Identity Crisis

This blog has an identity crisis. What am I? Judging by the name, I'm all about sailing. But that's going to be p-r-e-t-t-y boring while we live up here in "0 or 60 on the nose" land.

So Maybe I'm about this crazy job we have now. But I write another blog for that (check it out: blog.pacificwild.org)

That other blog (beccasghanaway.blogspot.com) was all about life in a different country with a different culture at a different pace. But Canada, believe it or not, is much like the states. And while island life offers its own brand of excitement, I think it's already become commonplace to us.

So what do you want me to be? What do you want me to tell you?

(not recommended: scraping varnish off of brightwork in the pouring down rain)

How much for a block of Cheese?

Things cost more here.

Canada is not quite as scared of taxes as the US, so many things (especially ‘non-essentials’ like alcohol and tobacco) are much more expensive all over Canada than they are anywhere in the states.

But beyond the tax-hike, we live in a remote corner of Canada, where everything arrives by plane or ferry (a few days late). So it is difficult for me to get out of my semi-weekly grocery store trip without leaving behind $70 or so (this may not seem like much to you family of 4’s with growing kids, but we just have two not-growing mouths to feed).

We have two options when it’s time to do the grocery shopping. We can hop over to Shearwater, the resort-centered store on Denny Island (a 5-minute boat ride or a 30-minute walk), where we can find the sometimes harder to find items (jalepenos, cous-cous, or artichoke hearts) or we can trek over to Bella Bella (a 10-minute boat ride or a very long swim), where the prices are a bit cheaper and the selection a bit bigger.

We have been very pleased with the selections at both locations, and especially with the quality and price of produce. While it’s not the apple plucked from the tree in my backyard, it is an apple and it’s not half bad. Produce prices seem equivalent and sometimes cheaper than what we saw in Seattle, an unexplained phenomenon around here.

And for your enjoyment, a sample grocery list. The prices are in Canadian dollars, which is worth a little bit more or a little bit less than the American dollar, depending on the day. I'll let you do the math...

1 dozen large white eggs 1 surprisingly small block of cheese 1 box of cereal 1 can of hot chocolate mix 1 jar of strawberry jam 1 (very small) whole frozen chicken 1 large jar of Adam’s peanut butter 1 loaf of Dempsters wheat bread 1 package of bacon 1 can black beans 1 bag of chocolate chips 1 big jar of tomato sauce 1 bundle of broccoli 1 canteloupe 1 Red pepper 1 Green pepper 1 large tomato 3 nectarines 3 plums 5 bananas 1 container of strawberries (available just one time) 2 naval oranges 2 Pink lady apples

$4.49 $13.25 (ouch) $6.75 $6.20 $6.45 $14.51 $8.90 $4.86 $5.99 $2.85 $4.55 $5.45 $1.98 $1.90 $1.48 $0.87 $0.58 $2.50 $1.11 $2.68 $3.79 $1.19 $1.24

It hasn't stopped raining in nine days.

It hasn’t stopped raining in nine days. One after another the storms roll through, swelling the streams, toppling otherwise healthy trees, and testing both anchor holding and patience. As the winds calm and the clouds rise, the stunningly raw beauty of the landscape peaks out just long enough to remember why you’re here. But before you can wipe the water from our eyes and reach for your camera, the sky darkens, the peaks retreat behind their veil, and the halyards take up their symphony, accompanied only by the ever-present pounding of rain- water droplets forced from their clouds and hurled at earth with apparent wrath for those subject to endure the endless line of storms marching up the coast.

So we should not have been surprised by the white-capped peaks that met our hull as we turned into Fisher Channel. Still, we were unprepared for the lashing the sea was eager to present. We quickly turned back to stow the boat, suit up, and prepare for battle. Two hours later we rounded the same corner, this time braced and poised. We hoisted sails, demonstrating our capacity to harness the same instrument the storm was using against us. Under a storm jib and a double-reefed main we pushed forward, head down and rail in the water. Perhaps to punish this stubborn exertion against nature, the winds gathered strength and the seas roiled with rage. But on we fought.

When I pulled back my hood and stole a glance at the chart three hours later, we had made a meager four miles of forward progress. The storm laughed at our naivety, using it’s own force to defeat it, as we slowly slammed our way from one side of the channel to the other. The wind freshened again, testing our limits. Halcyon sighed mightily as we turned back again, tail tucked and sails flapping. Those grueling three hours we retraced in an effortless thirty minutes, sliding down the swells now encouraging our retreat.

Back in the safety of the inlet, those seas couldn’t have been that big, the tide changed, we gave up too soon, it’s died down now I’m sure. We shook ourselves off, uttered some words of encouragement to our poor vessel, and marched around the corner, for the third time in a day, this time just plain pissed off. Fueled by adrenaline, exhaustion, and saturation, we powered up the shore, slowly, steadily, and cautiously, weary of incurring any more ferocity from the heavens. Finally we crawled into Jenny Inlet, eight hours late and utterly spent.

It would have been a successful journey, though, had that marked the end of our hardships.

A Story

"Well there goes my dancing partner", a disgruntled friend mumbled under his breath. It was Thursday night, our weekly go-climbing-then-go-dancing night, but this week there was a surprise. My friend had invited John along, not knowing we knew each other.

I hadn't seen John in three years. We had climbed together then, when I was at the gym 4-5 nights a week, but had fallen out of touch. Turns out we had taken turns traveling and living in Richmond, missing each other every time.
 That summer, we picked right up where we left off, climbing, playing kickball, and generally being goofy. But as the summer wound down, I got anxious- that summer lovin' was coming to an end and I had an impending plane ticket to Ghana.

It hurt to interrupt such a good thing for so long, but I left with a brave smile and a "see you later", knowing "later" couldn't come soon enough. Luckily I didn't have to wait long. John quit his job, let visa sponsor his plane ticket, and chased me to Ghana two months later. There we made our first joint purchase (the African painting prominently hanging on our boat) and talked about our future.

We were both ready for a new town, new opportunities, and new careers. We wanted a city with rocks to climb, water to sail, and jobs to have. So three months after I returned from Ghana, we packed up the truck with everything we owned and started a 6-week, 7,000-mile, life-changing trek across the great USofA. We friend-hopped across the country, sleeping on couches, in tents, or crammed into the back of the truck. We cooked most of our meals on a campstove, but caved and bought frosties every time we saw a Wendy's.

When we left Richmond everything was happy and profitable, but by the time we pulled into Seattle, broke and bedraggled, so was the country.  We crashed on the couch of the only people we knew in Seattle for "a couple weeks" (read: 2 months) while we found jobs, housing, and ourselves in this giant congested city. The longer we lived in Ballard, the further we migrated onto the water, until we finally gave up resistance and bought a boat (I just effectively summed up two years of learning, searching, and agonizing into one neat sentance-nice!).

Life sped up after that, and somehow three months after buying the boat and 10 days after getting the visa for our new job, we found ourselves sailing up the west coast of Canada, headed for yet another adventure together.

Now we live on Denny Island, in the middle of a temperate (very-rainy) rainforest, working to protect this fragile ecosystem.

We challenge, encourage, support, and entertain each other. Many would shudder at the number of drastic changes we have made in the last few years. For instance, last year we:

• lived in a house
• that we rented
• with five people and three dogs
• that had a yard
• and running water
• in a city of 2.7 million people
• in America

And now we:

• live on a sailboat
• that we own
• by ourselves (well, with Chaco)
• that has the Pacific ocean as a yard
• but no running water
• on an island with 80 full-time residents
• in Canada

All of this change doesn't matter, though, because the most important thing in my life- the love of my life- my best friend- is constant. His devotion is unwavering, his strength steady, and his love enduring.

A Mailbox

We must officially be Canadians now, we have our own PO Box!

PO Box 34

Denny Island, BC V0T-1B0

Here's how we got it.

The post office is inside the grocery store in Shearwater (I'll do a "shearwater" post soon with pictures). I had been in the grocery store about a 50 times, and finally remembered to ask about a PO Box. So I go up to the desk.

"Hi there, I was just wondering what the process looks like to get a PO Box"

"Um- do you live here?"

"Yes, we live in Whiskey Cove on our sailboat in front of Ian and Karen's house"

"OK"

She looked at the boxes and gave me my choice of box numbers, then went behind her desk, found the piece of paper with the keys for that number attached, and brought it over to me.

"Sign here"

"Can we also put John's name on it"

"Sure, just sign for him too"

Then she handed me the keys, and I left. It was free.

When I got back to the boat, I scrounged up the keychain I have not carried since we left Seattle and attached our new box keys. Then I tossed the keychain back into the depths of the nav statio.

When we need to pick up our mail, I will simply ask for our mail. They know who we are. 

*important note: Sending us things is expensive and very slow so do it if you dare, but be sure to allow a few weeks for it to reach us.

Going 'up the mountain'

I've mentioned before (like here) that one of the projects we've been working on is a site at the top of a mountain behind Bella Bella. It is here that we have a relay site complete with a tower, wind turbine, solar panels, transmitter radios, and a big box full of batteries and electrical gear. I thought I might walk through what a trip 'up the mountain' entails, since it's not as simple as it may seem.

First, we load everything we might possibly need, and a bunch of stuff we probably don't need, into a boat.

 

Then we drive the boat over to Bella Bella, 5-10 minutes (depending on the boat and how much stuff we're taking). John drops me off on a breakwater and I scurry up the rocks to where the truck is parked. He takes the boat over to the dock, I drive the truck down and meet him. Then we take all of that stuff we might need and all the stuff we probably don't and unload it from the boat, cart it up the dock (best to do when the tide is high) and load it into the truck.

Then we drive this truck:

 

Up this road:

Which turns into this road:

And park it here:

(where's waldo?)

Then we unload the stuff again and hike it up the last 300 feet through ankle-deep mud and over roots and dump it all here

Then the very next thing we do is start a fire, because the bugs are so bad up here we are unable to get work done.

 

 The smoke helps a bit, but it is still a tough work environment! 

Then we stop and enjoy this view for a few minutes

Before finally getting down to work. This particular trip, we stayed up there for 27 hours because we had to recharge the deep cycle batteries from well beyond discharged. This involved hooking up 2 generators to 3 chargers to 4 batteries for 15 hours.

The chargers, working overtime trying to revive the batteries

We slept in the truck and got up occasionally to check on the system and refuel the generators. Once the batteries were recharged, we did various other tasks, like wiring in a low voltage disconnect (so we don't have to recharge the batteries from 6 volts to 24 volts again), and replacing one of the wind generator blades (it was broken, which was why the batteries drained in the first place)

Then we load everything back into the truck, drive back down the road, unload everything from the truck, carry it down the dock, load it into the boat, park the truck down the street, drive the boat back to the house, and unload everything one more time into the shop.

So when I say we're going 'up the mountain', it's not a small feat.

Sunday cruises

Although we basically live with our bosses, our jobs inherently come with a lot of autonomy. We dictate when we start and finish, what tasks take priority, and when we spend time in the field. Coming from an hourly position, this is something to get used to.

To keep us from working seven days a week (and to keep the growth off the bottom of our poor boat) we have instituted a Sunday Sail. We take at least part of every Sunday off from work and go sailing. Or if it's really crummy, we go motoring, drop the anchor, and goof off. We have even been able to cajole a few new friends into joining us on these sails.

The first time we went, Alex, the bar manager at Shearwater, set up a wetbar in our cockpit and made martinis all afternoon, while simultaneously entertaining us on his guitar. 

The next week, Alex couldn't go but Jaime and Pete, who own a Contessa 26 (sailboat, 26', also dark blue hull), met us in an inlet where we dropped the hook and rafted up (they tied their boat to ours). We didn't sail, because it was POURING down rain, but we donned our rain gear and went for a kayak anyway. I have discovered a very useful fact living in the northwest: there is only so wet you can get. Once you are saturated, there is nothing left to do but ignore the water dripping into your eyes and down your sleeves and through your socks and just have fun!

 

 That's Jaime

 

 It was still so beautiful, despite the painfully large raindrops.

The next Sunday sail was the opposite. We still didn't get any sailing done because it was very calm, but that was OK because the sun was out and it was warm! 

 

 Just look at the difference :)

The boys (John and Pete) went fishing, but came back empty handed, 

 

so I went out to show them how it was done, and came back with a salmon (by the time we got back to the boat and my camera, the salmon was not in a picture-worthy state...)

And the lesson is: rain or shine, take a day off!

A little more about what we do

Here is the link to a video that gives a bit more information about one piece we are working on.

It was filmed about 2 years ago, when the project was in it's pilot program.

http://tidescanada.org/support/pacific-wild/

If the link doesn't work, go to tidescanada.org, and search for PacificWILD.

We eat like kings

Here is our meal last night. One Dungeness crab (for you east-coasters, this may not sound like a lot- but check out the size of that crab! One easily makes a meal), boiled in salt water and dipped in old bay/butter; one half of a salmon, baked in a caramelized onion glaze; two ears of corn, grilled in garlic butter.

The salmon was alive 5 hours before dinner, the crab- 1 hour.

The whole meal cost us approximately $3.

Codville Lagoon

Last weekend the sun finally shone, and we took advantage of it! After checking on some equipment, we fired up the big boat and took a vacation. There was actually a bit of wind and it was behind us, so we got the sails up and spent 7 hours sailing, fishing, and basking in the sun.

As I reeled in the fishing line one last time before entering the lagoon, I felt a tug and then a bigger tug. I tugged back and reeled in my first salmon!

John kindly filleted the fish and prepped dinner.
Then we went for a long kayak. This is Karen's kayak- and has a perfect third seat for Chaco!

(that's our boat back there)

Then we came back and ate said salmon- yum.

It was a much needed vacation after a 65 hour work week.

A Day in the Life

Here is where we live.

Here is where we work.

The inside's not done yet, and is a wreck, but we're getting there.

Here is our company vehicle.

Here is where our bosses live (and work and play).

Here is what our view looks like at 10:30pm when it's not pouring down rain.