We had a late start the next morning because we had to wait for a slack tide at a narrow passage up ahead, but after a leisurely start, things went wrong. We had some wind, but more, we had some trepidation about an upcoming day – twenty miles long with some precise timing and no good bailout points. As we passed the ferry terminal that went from Gabriola Island to Nanaimo, D had the idea that this might be a good place to end the trip. We rafted up to discuss the options and wound up turning northwest, across the bay to Nanaimo. The wind was against us and we had two foot waves on the approximately 3 mile crossing. This was a little rough and it seems that during that crossing, Vincent also started having second thoughts (also his boat was still sinking). Once we’d made it to Nanaimo both opted to board the ferry back to Vancouver. A and P went to help them with logistics while T and I headed over to Newcastle Island to see about camping spots there – we’d already missed our window to head south that day.
We found camping at the resort but it hadn’t yet fully opened for the season. What this meant in practice was that we pretty much had the run of the place. We set up camp in a big meadow, were told about the white raccoons, and left to explore the hiking paths, millstones and native art. Oh – did I neglect to mention the mysterious post covered with bras in the channel between the island and the mainland? We have no idea what that meant.
That night was still and perfect. We went for a night paddle over to Nanaimo and came back through all the boats anchored in the bay. The next day, however, was a storm. We’d about it the day before, saw that there were potentially 30 knot winds predicted and opted to shelter in place rather than risk it.
I have no photos from that next day because it was WET. We took the tiny passenger ferry to Nanaimo, ate at a fancy restaurant and did some sightseeing. More importantly – I found a place to drop of the COVID TEST! Finally getting rid of that albatross meant high-fives all around. We stayed in town as long as possible before returning to our very wet campsite. The camp had wood for sale, but we didn’t think we could get it to light, until I thought to ask if we could use the covered shelter right next to their gift shop. They said they used that space for salmon bakes, but since no one was around to go right ahead. They sold us some damp wood and by using that plus their giant pile of discarded cardboard we made ourselves a pretty decent fire.
We spent the rather cold, wet evening, watching raccoons fight over a box of bagged chips that had been left on the porch, smelling like a trash fire, trying to smoke a little recreational herb that our neighbors at Descanso had given to T, and made a new friend, a young woman from Germany who also appreciated the warmth of the fire.
