Slugging out the Johnstone against the wind but with the current we came into Port Harding late and in darkness. AVANTI felt her way toward the back of the harbor for an anchorage, then bump, a log, bump bump, more logs. We had sailed right into an open log pen as invisible in the night as a Klingon Starship. AVANTI backed and pushed and bumped her way free and we found our anchorage for the night.
Next morning we fueled, watered and started out for some Canadian fishing. Tim’s the fisherman, but to just describe Tim as a fisherman isn’t enough. I search for just the right phrase. Tim is the fisherman who fishes just for the fish of it. His knowledge and respect for fish set him in a class to himself. Me, I just drive the boat and watch and learn. Not long and it’s salmon for dinner!
It’s a might skinny channel into Harlequin Bay on Hurst Island. (50° 50’ 34”N 127° 34’ 33” W) but it’s just the sort of place that draws me like a magnate. Tim takes station on the bowsprit and pilots us . It’s the kind of place a shore bound sailor visits in his mind when the days work is done, but the clock drags.
Tim with fish
Harlequin Bay on Hurst Island BC
