The World’s Grumpiest Marine store Owner
Port McNeill
We had a short list of items needed from the chandlery--12 Volt socket fititng, diesel additive, latex gloves. The owner of the marine store’s reputation preceded him-- we were advised to get our Garmin Westside data card there “ but watch out, the owner is a chauvinist and rather off putting.” Ken bought what he had to there but wouldn’t go back when we needed a guide book for the Broughton’s “That guy was talking to a new employee, young kid, treated him like a piece of dog doo-doo.” Oh Kay. I went in just to meet grumpy Gus, but it was early in the morning and he hadn’t worked up a head of steam yet I guess.
We fortunately didn’t need to spend the 50 bucks to buy the Dreamspeaker Guide for the Broughtons--our favorite guide book series-because as we were standing outside wondering if we should fork out the equivalent of a night’s moorage to buy a book we would use for just a few days, Ed came by. I met him at the Laundromat internet klatch group the day before. “Come on over to the boat, I’ve got 4-5 books I can loan you on the Broughtons.” Such a deal. Plan was to meet him in a half an hour, but he decided he’d go out in his tender to pick up his crab pot just as we arrived. There he was, speeding away--”hey Ed, we got to leave, dock check out is at noon.” He managed to make it back with one big Dungeness in time for us to look at his favorite anchorages in the Broughtons and send us off with a guide book.
Port McNeill Laundromat and Internet visitors Centre
The washers and driers were expensive but the internet was free, a reasonable tradeoff. Bring your laundry and your computer, wash and dry, post on the blog and talk to mom via Skype. It was a friendly atmosphere, and why not: we were all travelers, by land or sea, all doing the same thing. Met a family who were all there--mom dad and teenage son and daughter. When the dad found out I was from Ashland, he launched into a very detailed story about how he got a ticket there, including an exact description of the solid and dashed road markings. Anybody who has that kind of memory for a town he had been to once years ago “when my kids were old enough to enjoy Disneyland” ought to be shot. “Thanks for supporting the local Police Department” I said.
There was Ed, the lone non-interneter--reading a book of all things,laughing out loud at the funny parts. He’s been over the top (of the Island) 3 times, and as a single handler no less.
As things were winding down and the number of computer users had dwindled to a mere me from a maximum of 6, Sven and Melanie (names are changed to protect the not so innocent) came in: they are on a 32 foot steel ketch which he built. Based in Seattle, they too are going down the outside, and have about the same cruising speed as us. Unfortunately, they have to be back in Seattle August first to work, how unfortunate. Sven had read about this particular hull design when he was in eighth grade “It chose me” as he put it. Designed in 1926 by Hannah as a wooden hull and redesigned years later for steel, he found a basic hull that had been laid up by someone in Missouri. He went back to look at it, and called his then girlfriend Melanie to see what she thought. “Well given the fact that you don’t know how to weld, I think you should buy it.” He had it shipped out to Washington on a flatbed trailer. Seven years later, it was ready to be launched. “It’s nice to finally have her in the water.” I guess!
Navigating through the rocks
Our sail over to the Broughtons from Port McNeill started under a darkly and blustery clouded sky, but it was blessedly warm--I only had to wear one layer under my light weight rain gear. (It’s July after all.) Ken was his usual anxious self to get the sails up. We had about 45 minutes of good wind, and then it was clocking and veering all over the place. To get to the Broughtons, we had to go southeast--the first time we weren’t going north or west since we set out. And guess what? The ‘prevailing noserlies were just that--this was a storm out of the SE and we had a head wind!
The Broughtons are an Archipelago-- that must mean a land of many rocks. The chart looks like an irregular set of large islands with popcorn strewn in-between--popcorn that could ground and grind the hull to a very unpleasant stop. Neither Ken nor I have ever been here before. We do have the Garmin of course for navigation--how did they ever do it before electronics and satellites-- but Ken said “I’d like to try it with out using that thing.” They call it dead reckoning--finding your position based on your relationship to visual clues--that mounded island to port, that pointy rock way off to starboard, that day marker to the east--then looking at the chart. We were searching for a small opening between a multitude of islands, islets and rocks before us. It was bewildering to me, but Ken was able to steer us on the right course, without hitting anything the chart required we give a wide berth to. His only flaw was to not understand why I couldn’t do it too!!!
Lorena McKinett, melodious wren song, Bald Eagles flying at close range, the early dusk and cooling air we sit inShoal Harbor off Gilford Idland. And the falling tide and advancing shore, oh I hope they’ll be adequate sea below the hull!
Truly lucky, truly blessed.