Bowen Island Spring Sail

I often only book patients for the morning on Friday.  When I’ve worked Friday afternoon’s it’s been impossible to get out of the city until late because of rush hour. Many nights I’ve been in the office to 7 or even 9 pm when my last patient was booked at 4 pm.  When there’s an emergency on Friday afternoon all the government services seem to have wound down, family physicians are hard to reach and the emergencies are filling.  I don’t do beaurocratic work Fridays anymore because I feel quite burnt out on all the paper work that has multiplied hundreds of fold since I began practice.
If I could see patients weekly or have a slot for a patient who needed to be seen in a week or two then it would all work easily. The trouble is I’ve slowly been booking people at 1 to 2 month follow up and have patients who come in every 3 to 6 months. If you’re going to see someone in a week or even two you don’t have to worry. What does ’t get done can be continued then.  But lives change dramatically in a matter of months.  Besides the complexity and severity of illness has risen exponentially with counsellors and psychologists and even family physicians with an interest in psychiatry taking what was called the ‘cream’.  Increasingly patients insurance companies and lawyers have all manner of paper work demands and just assume you have nothing to do but fill in forms ad infinitum and pass the payment onto the patient who is normally out of work.  Patients are generally more desperate or have less resources than they did 25 years ago when I began.  There’s simply no available hospital beds except on an emergency basis. When I began working as a physician I could always count on hospital back up. But now the hospitals seem to be a separate fiefdom. Indeed the mass influx of administration personnel communication between the major players in the health care system has never been worse.
I feel guilty when I leave the office. I feel guilty often that I don’t work more.  But I’ve always worked in the areas of ‘greatest need’ in the most under serviced and often most dangerous  complex areas.  I miss procedural medicine and acute care where there was a sense of completion.  Today everything is chronic care and multi system problems.  .  People complain daily I’m not there for them.  People complain weekly they can’t get into see me more.  Everyone complains they can’t see their family physician enough and are often very angry at the factory line experience in walk in clinics and the horrible hours upon hours of waiting at emergencies.  Everyone, including me, seems that much older, too.
I figure I’ll go crazy if I don’t get out to sea or to the country. I spend my weekends preparing emotionally and spiritually for the following week.  And I’m often answering calls, handing emergencies taking emails and phone calls and not at all minding it, indeed thankful to be of help. I’ve been on call 24/7 most of my life, whether it was to northern communities by radio phone or to doctors office and emergencies.  I only object when people abuse phones, like the advertisers who use up the paper in my fax machines.  Then there’s the really sick patients who use up the answering machine time ‘filling the machines’ with their lengthy stories and daunting tales.  My assistants spend hours wading through these messages I rarely hear.
All this is to say that I absolutely love when the universe comes together and I do get away on a Friday afternoon before the rush hour.  And that’s just what happened this week.  I saw my last patient, cleared up the administrative concerns, answered pressing phone calls and was in my car on my way to pick up Laura.  We were supposed to go to the Ballet on Friday night but it was sunny.  I so wanted to get out on the water. I needed to get away.
“What about going out in the GIRI instead of going to  the Ballet?” I asked when I saw her.
“I’d love that,” she said.
20 minutes later Gilbert Laura and I were headed to the boat, still ahead of rush hour.  I almost didn’t cast off.  Normally I like to leave first thing in the morning because I’m so exhausted by Friday I’m afraid my brain won’t work if there’s any problems.  But it was only 4 pm and sunny still. I’d not had the boat out since the fall.  Some winters  I do sail but often winter is the time that boat work get done.
Oh what the heck!!
I filled the water tank, unhooked the electricity, fired up  the new glorious Volvo D 40 diesel engine then cast off.
What a joy!
We chugged across Coal Harbour to the float fuel dock.   I had to fill the fuel tanks .  Tom had scoured the main tank and put in an inspection window this winter.    There was a wait while other boats fueled.  But 6 pm we were finished  headed through First Narrows for Bowen Island.  2 hours to Snug Cove.  I also got to enjoy the new Standard Horizon GPS Chart Plotter Tom had installed. Delightful tech.  Great to watch the little boat travelling along the electronic map.  Also nice to have gps speed and lat and long in one location.  I used to have to go below to get the gps speed off the downstairs gps.    Lovely evening too. So exciting to be out in English Bay on a Friday night with a whole weekend ahead.
I was even able to anchor in the light.  Usually I’m anchoring in the dark trying not to bash boats and buoys around me.   Everything is so much easier in the light.  I loved being anchored and going below for the evening.  We’d not taken the time to provision but found some pumpernickel bread, a can of pork and beans and a can of Irish Stew.  I mixed the two cans and heated up a mariner feast fit for King Neptune.  Laura was delighted with comfort food and Gilbert glad to lick the plates.
Rocking at anchor we read.  George gave me B.J. Novak’s One More Thing, Stories and Other Stories. It’s brilliant.  Thoroughly entertaining and very funny. He’s a modern day Vonnegut.
We didn’t stay up too late.  I had a bit of anchor watch happening with the wind and rain that came up.
It’s a tight fit in the Mannion Bay with all the scows, derelicts, crab traps and buoys.  I eventually let out enough anchor I stopped worrying.  Laura and Gilbert made the bed warm beneath the comforter.  It’s finally warm enough to be in the boat without the heater on.
In the morning we slept in a bit. I’d thrown the dinghy over and lugged the Yamaha 4 hp out board into it the night before.  In the morning I tried to fire it up without success. It was sunny and pleasant. I took the engine apart. I’d had it in the shop last month.   I’d get it started but it would only run for a few minutes before sputtering out.  Well, that was a disappointment.  I threw the outboard back up onto the sailboat deck.
The dinghy has oars.  I got Laura and Gilbertt on board and manly rowed us across the bay and into Snug Cove.  I know I’ve been talking with God about my need for more exercise. I have the waist of a desk jockey rather than those hard abs advertised on late night tv.  Well here I was getting what I prayed for.  Gilbert and Laura enjoyed the ride.
Ashore Gilbert immediately dumped on the green grass.  Thankfully we had poop bags.  Bowen is lovely destination.  Vancouver’s island suburb.  I remember visiting Kirk when he lived here.  It’s a great destination though anchoring has got worse each year so I’m often going to Spanish Banks then dinghying into the Granville Market or going further to Plumper Cove and crossing to Gibson ashore for breakfast and shopping when I only have a weekend for boating. When I have three days I can cross the straight.  Bowen Island will have to do something about Mannion Bay anchoring.  I've been coming several times a year for over 25 years and spending hundreds of dollars each weekend, ashore  for breakfast, dinner or shopping.  The profusion of private anchor buoys and derelicts and scows has made it really difficult to anchor even off season.  I love the marina but it's difficult for a big boat to get into just to overnight.
Bennies on Bowen with lattes was sweet. That was followed by a stop at the grocery store.  Then I saw Eagle Creek bags at the Safari store and had a lovely visit with the delightful Carole Peterson,  owner, photographer, adventure guide. Eagle Creek bags are the best world travel luggage.  Now Laura and I have matching sets for our trip to Ireland. When we motorcycle camp she gets her one saddlebag.  In the Miata we each have room in the trunk for our knapsack’s.  The boat and RV are like moveable apartments so have most everything especially in the way of tools.  I hate being places where I can’t find a wrench or screw driver.  I could kill terrorists since they’ve made it impossible for me to carry swiss army knives or multi tools. I’ve lost a half dozen so far forgetting them on my belt till I set off an alarm or they show up in a pocket of my luggage.
Somehow I found the strength to row us all back to the boat.  More reading and napping and throwing a red tennis ball constantly for Gilbert.  If one of us petered out then he swapped over to the other. He wouldn’t want either of us to feel he playing favourites.   When he caught me napping at one point and not participating in the ball throw game, he jumped right up on my chest and licked my face.
Laura cooked up the pork chops and potatoes I’d bought in the afternoon. We had it with the packaged cesar salad kit and followed up the meal with chocolate bars.  All the while we watched the comedy MacGrubber and Jackie Chan’s Zodiac on DVD.  Saturday night in harbour at the movies.  More rain and waves but Snug in the boat.
This morning I made coffee and porridge. Gilbert had his Little Cesar.  I began reading Juan de Fuca’s Strait by Barry Gough,  Phillips gift to me.  I really am enjoying the history very much.
Then it was gearing up with rain pants and rain floater jacket, putting the motor on the railing and hauling in the Achiles dinghy.  It’s the lightest dinghy available and I’m pretty good at getting it on board alone. The Yamaha 4 hp has to go though. It just about kills me to lift it in and out of the dinghy up to the deck of th sailboat. I have seen the Honda 2.5 hp which is half the weight so I’m going to get that next. It’s hard to believe that as a younger man I was lifting a 15 hp in and out of the dinghy onto the GIRI then went to a 9.9, then a 6 then this 4 hp.  I’m definitely getting weaker over the last quarter century or maybe smarter.
Weighing anchor, thankful it came up without a glyph, I got underway.  It was raining heavy and fog reduced visibility to half a mile .  I couldn’t see half across Howe Strait.  When I got out in the strait I was surprised at all the sailboats and little power boats. Several of us were making our way to First Narrows for the turn.  A couple of sailboat were actually sailing with crews of 6 or 8  oblivious to the inclement weather.  Laura Gilbert and I enjoyed the protected interior of the canvas dodger.  I just wished my wipers worked.  One more thing to get working again.  A boat is always a work in progress but mine is offshore ready in the big picture.  Not that I plan to go offshore this year but I love the feeling of having this amazing boat capable of sailing around the world underway.
We didn’t hoist sails but enjoyed the new Volvo engine chugging along taking us through First Narrows and up Coal Harbour. Despite the difficulty with docking in the incredibly tight space I did it like a pro.  What a relief.
Now we’re in the cabin. Laura is making bacon sandwiches. The electric heater is drying everything out and making the cabin cozy. Gilbert is sleeping with his chin on my leg.  Life is Good.  Thank you SV GIRI for a fabulous weekend on the water.  Thank you God!

Red Rock Crab Feast

One crab might not be a feast to others but it sure was to me. I'd put my crab trap out with a can of dog food Gilbert  doesn't like the day before. Unfortunate for the crab the dog food brand was appealing to him. It was Snug Cove. About 50 feet down. I remember catching lots of crab here a decade or so back but the last times I put out a crab net I got it back empty.
This fellow, since the male's belly looks thinner like a lighthouse, whereas the female's belly looks like a beehive, measured across the back 180 mm . It  must be 115 mm to be legal
I boiled up my biggest  pot half full of water with  a couple of tsp of salt. Gettting the crab off the net is a challenge since I've known the power of the claws and don't wish to experience that pain again.  This time I was able to shake him out on the deck and pick him up with a couple of serving spoons.  He died on contact with the boiling water. No scream. I think it's the lobster that screams.  This guy just boiled turning brighter red while I heated up butter in a pan adding some lemon.
10 to 15 minutes cooking for large crabs. 8-10 minutes for smaller. I chose 10 minutes for this guy.  I took the crab out and put him on a plate before I settled in with a pair of industrial pliars. I looked but couldn't find my crab picks and crackers.  I couldn't find nut crackers either. After I washed the pliars off they worked just fine.
Gilbert found the whole process very entertaining but wasn't getting any.  The hazards of being a dog. He did get to lick up the butter dish and frying pan I'd used  for the butter.
Meanwhile I was immediately into the big claws, cracking and digging out meat.  I shared the first with Laura who is relatively squeamish about fresh killed things. She loved the taste but said she'd settle for an avocado sandwich while I settled into  cracking crab and digging out meat. It was delicious.  De-licious!  After I was done and the plate was a pile of shell and guts I remembered to say grace.  I thanked the crab for it's sacrifice and felt renewed in the direct experience of life.

Bowen Island - SVGiri - Journal day 3

At anchor in Mannion Bay off Snug Cover, Bowen Island. We left Vancouver Thursday and todays' Saturday. It rained most of the day.  We've been reading.  I just finished James Patterson's I, Alex Cross.  Great mystery thriller.  Was making some headway with One by Seife.  The Patterson soon was calling to me though.  Boat reading on a rainy day.  Laura made eggs and hashbrowns.  Later I made minestrome soup for lunch. I also made Rosemary Zuchini Olive Tomato Beef Stew.  Lying around reading and eating seems appropriate for a rainy boat day. Every 15 to 20 minutes Gilbert jump on one of us and licks our face.
For a great break in the day we fed the visitting geese.  At another time I got out the crab trap from the lazarette and took this out with the dinghy. It's now about a hundred yards offf the stern in 45 feet deep water trying to catch crabs with cans of dog food, brands that picky Gilbert doesn't like.  He loves Little Caesar but turns his nose up at the the no name brand just like it.  Hopefully the crabs aren't dog food connosieurs.
I just got back from taking Gilbert for a walk on the beach.  I've been rowing.  A change from the motor and excercise I need. The boat is a whole lot of exercise. Climbing in and out of dinghys, even starting motors , the out board and the little Honda generator, takes exercise.  Good living this.
I'm not expecting a terrorist attack or car chase out here.  I'm resting up for another day or two of this high speed living.  Oh yea, I showered. That was an event. I took the 5 gallons can off the deck and added it to the 50 gals we're carrying.  Maybe I'll get the water making working.  Everything seems a major effort then it gets done rather spontaneously. If you 'd asked me if I wanted to take the dog ashore an hour ago I'd say, no way, but then I finished the novel and we were off and running. Things get done that way on a boat. All about timing.
I had a nap earlier. I may be due for another.  My dad at 93 is the real master of napping but I'm thinking it's good that I'm starting training earlier.  It's just a cycle.  Or a boat.  Colin likes to say that we're designed so that if we just let go everything rights itself like a sailboat that's been knocked down. You let all the rigging off and the boat rights itself.  Something about surrender to win in there to.  Hallelujah 

Bowen Island - SV GIRI - Journal

Yesterday the sun shone. I was up early thanks to Gilbert's wet alarm clock. I fixed the speedometer by pulling out the through hull sensor and cleaning the propellor blades.  I hate that moment between pulling the sensor bung out and replacing it with a plain bung. Water is spouting into the interior of the boat until the fumbling hands stop the inflow. Then when the sensor is cleaned the same procedure recurs with that sense of panic as water pours in for those exciting moments.
After Laura's delicious egg bacon sandwich with hashbrowns I lifted the new light weight dinghy over the side.  The outboard is only a 4 hp but I felt I could use a lighter one of those.  Assembled Laura and Gilbert, with Gilbert in his life jacket, headed to the Union Steamship wharf in Snug Cove.  There we went ashore to Gilbert's utter delight. He frolicked off leash with a few other dogs and shit on land twice.  We had our little doggy bags out to stoop and scoup in this pristine tourist park where dogs are really supposed to be on leash.  After I found a light knapsack, folds into a pocket pouch, and a water proof cellphone container Laura Gilbert and I headed up the dark and mysterious Dorman Trail. A kind of mini mini mini Grouse Grind.  A sort of walk really with a little uphill motion.  Great ferns
After it was back to the boat for more gruelling hard core mind muscle work out novel reading.  Then I made some Chicken Cacciatore on Linguine to much appreciation from Laura who ate from her plate while Gilbert cleans the pans and pots with enthusiasm.
Before bed we watched a couple of episodes of Netflix tv Jericho watching Jake have another rough day dealing with the corrupt post apocalyptic corporate power vaguely California like.  Texas comes off looking good at this point. No mention of Canada whereas lots of Americans ironically were hoping to be let into Mexico.
This morning it's raining. Heavy.  I don't have alot of motivation. If I was hip slick and cool I'd have the sails up and be coasting up Howe Sound in the very light winds, youthful and vibrant before the mast.  I'd vaguely thought maybe I'd go to Keats Bay this weekend but it's raining and this is a lovely anchorage.  Maybe another coffee. I might put out a crab trap or go fishing. But it's raining. The fish like the rain.  I'm really enjoying this book "One - decoding the universe" by Charles Seife whose book Zero I consider one of the all time greats of science explanation, right up there with Kuhn. I'm also reading a Patterson, Alex Cross detective book.  That's alot of work and even getting up on deck to get the generator going again to charge the battery operated device seems work. I could run the engine and charge this laptop that way.  The main batteries are just fine with wind generator and solar panels and little draw except the freezer and water pumps.
It's all so very challenging.  I'm overwhelmed with tough decisions.  I did light candles this morning to brighten up the place.  A little more coffee and book time. I've thrown Gilbert the ball alot and rough housed with him.  The choices though seem unbearable.  Stay, lift anchor, go where, walk around deck, read, maybe shower, I shaved, that was a major committment to the day, maybe have breakfast, then a nap. Can't forget the naps.  Helps one think about what to do or what not to do.