DAYWATCH

This is a truly remarkable movie that mixes sci fi, fantasy, adventure and vampire effects to create an intellectual metaphor akin to Matrix with a Da Vinci Code historical search all wrapped in a special humanity of family and community. The world is divided into day and night each with it's own police department answering to a century old truce.

It is Moscow's Brother's Karimosov to Hollywood's Great Gatsby. I picked it up as a major thriller only to be caught up in a cast of characters reminiscent of a Woody Allen film. The special effects were fascinating but very unAmerican and the music was truly European. The actors and actresses, characters and characterization were all so uniquely different. The Russians are amazing. Directed by Timor Bekmanbetov, it starred Konstantin Khabensky. I would love to list the names of all the stars but the writing at the end of the movie was cryllic. Definitely an action flick it that was much more and then some.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Day_Watch

Happy New Year 2010

We've made it another year. Physically survival is too often underestimated. Emotionally we take so much for granted. Intellectually we underestimate the sheer magnitude of this mysterious miracle of life. I want to remember what was great about last year.

It started with me thoroughly enjoying the winter locum in the Trail Hospital, the fine doctors, staff and delightful people I had the priviledge of working with there. How magnificently beautiful and diverse British Columbia is.

Then my own practice survived the business failures of 2009, as the macrocosm of the world reeled, in the microcosm of my office, frank incompetence in business and accounting mismanagement reigned. New owners on the building would not renew the collective leases and staff desertion after the grossest of errors had me working 7 days a week 12 hours aday just to keep a practice open, all the while looking for new offices and new staff.

It would have been even darker were it not for the understanding of patients and referring family physicians, lawyers and their staff. Friends like Laura and Colin stepped in to help. Lo and behold I found a new office in China Town and amazingly with the help of Tracy and Mark the move occurred. I was exhausted but equally amazed. New business administration and accounting began to bring order to the self centered bedlam I'd earlier not attended to struggling with all the immediate demands for patients who overnight lost so much as provincial authorities focused their budgets and attention elsewhere. The sick are rarely a priority. And those who care for the sickest are stigmatized as they are.

Yet here I was in church praying and at home on my knees praying, going to meetings, and finding that truly in times of travail our relationship with God becomes central. Talking with my father, brother and sister in law was inspiring. Friends , colleagues and ministers were all so supportive. Soul food with George was never more appreciated.

And spring came. Out of the darkness and cold, came light and warmth. My sailboat went up on the hard at Mosquito Creek. To fulfill the surveyor's insurance recommendations the hull underwent ultrasound assessment with two areas of weakness found. After the real bloody work of preparation was done Barry the welder came with his magic wand and healed Giri's broken mast and added two new plates to the hull. An ancient evil septic tank was exorcised, water tank leak repaired,and quite amazingly Tom put Humpty together again.

The boat wasn't ready for summer sailing but the weather was perfect for motorcycling and camping. Laura and I had our usual terrific jaunts to the country. We got out together on the Christmas Toy Run and Motorcycle Ride for Dad as well. I did the Oyster Run down in Washington with Donny. The AA round up on Salt Spring Island was the best with Bill and Brian. IDAA conference in San Antonnio, the Alamo and riding a Harley to Corpus Christi were all highlights of the summer.

Then it was deer hunting season and a series of trades with a little out put of money that had me, sans a scooter and a couple of rifles but with a new 30:30 rifle and a 230 Honda enduro.

Laura was with me when I shot a deer. The barbecued tenderloins were so delicious. She enjoyed her days camping, reading, sunbathing in Princeton while I rode all over the back country shooting every can and the bagging the occasional partridge. 4x4ing the Harrison Lake area where fire had struck was an unforgettable drive through dead truck alley.

Then winter was on us and somehow the practice continued with less chaos as Mark's experience grew, Scotia Bank at Granville continued supportive, the taxman fattened, and generally I was again able to focus on learning medicine, amazed at the advances in the knowledge of addiction, brain injury and human sexuality.

I enjoyed very much being asked to teach a course on spirituality in mental health and addiction settings. Several of my articles were also published by the Medical Post. I loved the Canadian Author's Association monthly meetings and especially enjoyed our writer's circle readings and criticism. I continued in the Blue Water Cruising Association and joined the Harley Owner's Group.

I was a reader at Christ Church Cathedra until my move to the north shore caused me to attend St. James Anglican Church more often, mostly because of their later service. In retrospect, practicality has often had a major role to play in my church attendance. I used to attend St. John's Anglican Shaughnassey Sunday night service because I wasn't back from sailing for morning mass. Then I attended Wednesday night West Coast Biker's Church until they moved further out of the city. I was attending Rainbow Community Church evening service in the West End till they moved East Vancouver and hopefully this year I'll get back to them and the Biker church.

I attended the West End Pride Parade, made it out to several charity functions, including Shout, Turning Point and Loving Spoonful. I was divinely dressed for the annual Emperor and Empress charity fundraiser and continued to support Avalon Women's Centre which does great work for women with addictions.

Strathcona Men's AA meeting and the other AA meetings I attend have all made my life fuller with the inspiration, the fellowship and service involved. Cyberdocs on the internet and the email friendships I continue there with others around the world, and blogging, have all added a special richness to my life.

My nephew Andrew's visit with his friend Kyle awakened me to the fact I was probably aging. Their staying out all night partying and liking it seemed a truly alien concept to me yet I believe I may well have been like that when I was in my 20's. I really have grown to love going to bed early, early morning rising and generally G.O.D. – good, orderly, direction. I fear I'm getting set in my ways. My cat, Angel, certainly is.

Now when I think back on the year I really didn't believe my health or sanity would survive the spring. All I thought of for weeks was leaving medicine and working as a shoe salesman. I never wanted to have to trust another person in business or work the extra hours and devote the time and energy involved in making work for others. I never wanted to talk to another contemptuous government agent or beg on behalf of another patient for services that had been promised. I wanted to get on my motorcycle and ride off into the sunset leaving everything and everyone.

Yet I didn't and it all got better. The sun rises after the darkest part of the night. I felt the same about my boat. So much cost and so much work and so much uncertainty. I would have sold it but there wasn't any market for a holy sailboat with a broken mast. I worried it was a metaphor for my life too. But then that was fixed.

And here I am today moored in Salt Spring Marina listening to the wind blowing in the rigging, white caps in the harbor, glad I chose to stay another day before returning to Vancouver. I almost left this morning, lifting the outboard from the dinghy and locking it at the stern, then putting the dinghy on the deck. VHF weather 3 said there'd 20 to 35 knot SE winds in the Strait of Georgia, if I left then I'd go through Active Pass on the turn, and yet. The autopilot isn't working. We were mucking with the hydraulic steering, the water cooling system has a leak, it's winter and cold, I've just put on the hydrovane again and haven't tested it. There's simply no rush. Tomorrow the low will have passed. 15 knot winds predicted from the south. I have the boat all stowed. I'll pay for another day. It's New Year's day. Relax already.

Looking back it was a series of challenges like any year. Each seems at first insurmountable and then somehow whatever that was falls behind and something else takes it's place. All a series of highs and lows like the weather. Sailing, is a great metaphor for life. It's a long haul. Motorcycling is just a metaphor for the short haul.

To paraphrase Mark Twain, most of the deaths and disasters I've know have been in my mind.

2010 is a new year. Last year we had President Obama and Prime Minister Harper. Bin Laden is still out there somewhere and for that we have more and more Security. The Cold War was lost to the the War on Drugs which has now lost to the War on Terrorism. What next? The real estate money crisis, the war in Iraq and Afghanistan, threats of new air borne virus while HIV is increasingly treatable, global warming and planetary pollution, the space station and color is back in fashion. Any year above the ground is a good year. This was a particularly good year.

2010 will be a good year too. The 2010 Winter Olympics are happening right here in February in Vancouver and Whistler. Vincent Massey is having its Winnipeg high school reunion this spring. There's always Sturgis in the summer for motorcyclists to dream about. IDAA is meeting in Buffalo this August and AA is having it's big convention in San Antonnio. I might even make it out to a Blue Water Cruising Association rally.

Mostly I'll be thankful if I'm alive, well, uninjured and will pray the Jabez prayer indeed. I think my Dad is terrific when he tells me in his 90's that he's heading for 100. I hope he makes it.

To all those who are friends, I do wish you a wonderful year of joy and peace. To those who consider me your enemy I wish you well and hope that I am more forgiving. I am very thankful to my teachers and mentors.

This 2010,I really do want to be a better person, a good friend, a fine doctor, a responsible citizen, a talented writer, a safe rider, a competent sailor, a straighter shooter, a caring family member, a good pet owner, considerate of my household plants and all round closer to God.

Winter Underwater at Ganges

Winter underwater at Ganges Harbour is cold and dark and miserable. I knocked the trombone bit off the dorade box when I launched the dinghy. First time I rescued it before it sought the ocean floor. The wood where the screws had mounted it had become mushy so I had only to turn it a bit and remount it with new drill holes. Before I did that though, the next day, I knocked it overboard when I was cleaning the deck of mollusk shells that had fallen off the bottom of the boat. For anyone who has lost something over the side of sailboats, and I've lost wrenches, screwdrivers, cups and outboard engines, there's that sad moment when one watches as the item sinks out of sight, gone to Davy Jones Locker, like a lost friend.

But I have a wet suit on board, albeit a summer wet suit, not the winter wet suit I have in storage or the dry suit I have in storage. But a wet suit. And flippers and goggles and snorkel. I slipped into tights and tshirt, donned the wet suit, doing contortions with the zipper on the back, climbed in the dinghy, got on the flippers and mask and snorkle, then rolled over the side. Darkness and cold greeted me as I reversed direction and porpoised back to the surface and scrambled into the dinghy. Now that was a stupid idea I thought! Time to rethink.

I checked the depth sounder 20 feet. I found my dive light. Battery needed recharging. I found my buddy air bottle and filled it from my main tank, missing my BCG and finding only a few tank weights I could use to counter my own buoyancy. I jury rigged a grossly inadequate weight belt.

A few hours later when the sun was still up and I couldn't put it off any longer, I donned the still damp gear and with yellow buddy air bottle and dive lamp I set out. I'd also hung a rope over the side of the boat with a weight that I could follow to the ground and use for bearing for search. Well, the water was just as cold but I sucked air from the buddy bottle kicking down with ears refusing to equalize but finally reaching the bottom thankful for the white rope. The darkness at the bottom was still really dark despite the dive light. I looked quickly around from the rope, maybe 10 feet circumference, irritated by my lack of counter buoyancy and astonished by the dark and cold. It was even scarey.

In a matter of seconds, I concluded the little trumpet end for the dorade box, could be replaced cheaply at Poppy's Second Hand Marine. I certainly didn't need fresh air funneling through the cabin right now. They're a hot climate item. I basically wasn't happy at all doing this. Indeed I was already feeling better heading to the surface. In the dinghy I was very happy. I was even happier in the hot shower. Maybe tomorrow I thought.

Today, it's windy in the harbor and choppy. Definitely worse conditions for diving. I can't believe I did my advanced and rescue Padi training in these conditions. Yes, I had the proper equipment and great instructors from Granville Island. What I have on board right now is only for emergencies such as fouled rudder. I'll have to get my weightbelt, BCG and winter wet suit from the storage locker. Still.

If one is going to go diving it's far better to do it in the Northern Mariana Islands. Now there's the place to drop something over the side of a sailboat, just to have the excuse to go diving.

Venison Pate

VENISON PATE

Necessary tool – Food grinder – My Sunbeam Oskar has been my favourite x 18 years plus

Ingredients

Deer Liver -cubed One onion -chopped

4 cloves garlic-crushed and chopped

2 stalks celery-chopped

One lemon -squeezed One lime -squeezed

3 tblsp of olive oil 1/8^th cup soy sauce

2 tbsp honey Rosemary – 1 tbsp

Thyme – t tbsp Oregano – 1 tbsp

1 tsp salt Ground Pepper Corns -1 tbsp

Cayenne Pepper – 1 tsp Butter – 1 quarter pound

I'm guessing at the tbsp and tsp amounts because I just use a regular soup spoon since I don't know where the measuring spoons are and only use them if I'm trying someone else's recipe.

I put the oil in the frying pan and brown the onion and garlic before adding the venison liver. I salt and pepper the liver while it's cooking. Add the soy sauce now. I put a lid on the pan, I thoroughly cooking the liver through. It needs to be really well cooked in it's juices. I then drain off the fluid some and add some more oil still cooking it on the stove top now with the lid off. I then add all and other ingredients stirring them in and cooking this for another 5 minutes. I add the butter last.

When the butter is melted I turn off the stove.

I ladle the whole works juice and liver into the electric Sunbeam Oskar food grinder. I let it rip. It seems like it churns forever but then I like the creamy smooth pate best. If I wanted it chunky I could shut it down any time.

I put this in jars and refridgerate. Right now I've got mine outside on the sailboat deck . It's cold outside. I used about half to a third of a carefully cleaned deer liver and got about 16 ounces of pate. It's best served cold but I had a couple of pieces of fresh bread from the Salt Spring Island Thrifty's and smeared the still warm pate on that. It was delicious but then my venison pate has always been delicious.

The Venison Pate beginnings

I've been making venison pate since 1989, the year Bill Mewhort gave me my first whole deer. He'd shot a two point, watched it go down and then shot it again when it came back up. On the ridge he found he'd shot twin two points then had a heart attack carrying both deer out of the North Vancouver Island woods. That's when he met me. I saw him sitting sickly on the side of a logging road and stopped to ask if he was looking for a lift. "No I was looking for a doctor, " he said. I told him I was one. And he told me he thought he might have had a heart attack. I checked him out as best I could and said he'd likely survive. He asked me what I was looking for. I said, "A deer." And he said, "I think you might have found one, if you help me get mine out of the woods." That's when I carried his deer and 'mine' out of the woods while he rested. Later, his doctor confirmed that he indeed may have had a small heart attack, though a minor thing like that would never keep Bill from hunting. Heart attacks, cancer, paget's diseases, marriages, divorces, kids and grandkids wouldn't keep Bill from hunting. They'll probably find a Mewhort hunting gene when they get the human genome fully mapped.

That's how I had a whole deer to cook myself and began to wed my gourmet cooking training with my wild game experience. Last year Bill in his 70's and still hunting got baptized and this year he got married. He's already a grandfather many times over and one of the great hunters of our present day. I think he lets his new wife do the cooking. He lets his son Allen pack out the game he shoots though Allen is as likely now to shoot his own.

My first experience with pate

My first experience with pate was England circa 1971. I think it might have been Charing Cross Road. There was a downstairs wine and cheese bar there that served exotic pate's, duck, goose, boar whatever, with French names and different types of biscuit to have them on. The basement walls were original stone,circa hundreds of years old and the crowd was 70's office young people, baby boom era. They spoke with foreign English accents that made them even more interesting and attractive. I was a first time abroad Canadian working in London after bicycling across Europe with an utterly gorgeous, good humored, sophisticated first wife.

Standing in that really exciting city dressed in a pin striped dark suit eating pate' foire across from my vivacious brunette I might well have been a Sean Connery 007 on a very secret mission. In those days I fancied I looked a bit like Robert Redford (at least wanted to).

My first experiences with liver

"Eat your liver, it's good for you!" My father loved liver and onions. It was a favourite Sunday lunch fare. My mother loved it too. "It's full of iron, nutritious and good for the blood." I hated liver as a child. I used to stare at my plate while my parents told me it was 'good for me'. My parents were meat and potato folk, Dad growing up on the ranch with the benefits of country fine food supplemented by the best of hunting and fishing fare. Mom was a Toronto girl raised protestant and though Scottish Irish heritage, cooked English. I suspect in the Baptist home of her childhood "French cuisine" would be considered too sinfully close to Roman Catholic to be considered godly. Plain hearty wholesome food was the stuff of my childhood. Salt and pepper were really the only spices that the Good Lord probably approved of. "People use spices to disguise the poor quality of their food." Boiled was best but fried was alright. God most likely ate bland too.

Ironically as a young adult I grew to love liver and to this day absolutely love pate. I think while God may be bland, s/he's spicy too.

Ganges

I love Ganges. I love Salt Spring Island. I've been coming here for nearly 20 years. I've come over on the ferry, in van, car and on motorcycle. I've stayed ashore at friends and in the fine bed and breakfasts and motels. I've anchored the GIRI in the harbor countless times, fueled up and stayed at the guest wharf or in the Salt Spring Marina. This morning after a night at anchor in the harbor I called up the Salt Spring Island Marina, first on cell phone then on the VHF radio at 66A.






The lovely, helpful and friendly marina manager was there to help me with my lines after I told her I was solo sailing. What luxury to have water and electricity. My electric heater is right now combined with the diesel heater to make the cabin toasty. They've a winter rate special, $15 a night for any boat length. That can't be beat when summer rates are $1.25 to $1.50 a foot a night and Giri is 39.9 feet. She gave me the code for the laundry and showers rooms too.






I talked to Bob at Yanmar and he came by to check my Wagner Autopilot. He bled the system while I tried adding more hydraulic fluid but that didn't solve the problem. "I think the motor is hooped," he said. "That's too bad. I guess I'll take it back to Jastram Engineering in North Vancouver. " After that we talked about boats. He and his wife have a skookum steel boat they're fixing up with the dream of cruising the Polynesian Islands. I told him about cruising Sea of Cortez and sailing to Hawaii. "How'd your cat do?" he asked. "We're thinking of introducing the kitty to sailing." I told him about Angel's love of her sock drawer and warned him about all the tedious vaccination and quarantine issues pets face in the Pacific.






Later I got the dinghy off the deck and in the water. Despite my getting smaller dinghy's and outboards over the years they seem to get heavier. I wanted the dinghy in the water to make setting up the hydrovane self steering system more convenient. Without the autopilot I'll use it on the way back with the weather forecast for more wind. It's easy to mount the Hydrovane hanging over the stern but it's even easier from the dinghy.






I also wanted to motor over to the town. It's about a 2 block walk but why walk when you're boating. The outboard was a hard start but purred once she kicked over. Part of the boatworld is using the toys. Getting in the dinghy brought back memories of the first dinghy, the dinghy I used to stand in and hyrdroplane with the fins on the outboard. That one went like lightning. A 15 hp outboard on a dinghy rated for 9 hp. Now I'm older and sit sedately, this 4 hp Yamaha doing me just fine. There doesn't seem to be the same hurry there once was.






In town I did the standard tour of Mouat's. It's one of those amazing country hardware stores which has everything and then some. I found the unique hooks I needed for hanging lanterns on the boat as well as a replacement mirror for the one in the head that rusted after sea water came through the port hole in big seas. I found another $10 thinsulate togue at Mouat's Clothing. I misplaced the Bluewater Cruising Association togue I have on boat and headgear was critical in the cold wind at sea so I need a spare. I love the sweater I bought at Mouats this summer.






Seeing the Tree House Café outside I was reminded of all the great folk and country music I'd heard there. Being a week day, the market wasn't running as it usually is when I'm over in the summer. I don't know if it goes on in winter. The other place for great entertainment is the bar and grill at Salt Spring Marina, MoBy's. Food's always been great there.






Of course I got to the book store. It's one of my all time favourites. I got a Sam Llewellyn and an Alexander Kent I hope I haven't read. In this one Bolitho is facing Napoleon's forces in the Mediterranean. (There's an automatic 12 guage shot gun with grenade shells that we figure would serve the GIRI well on the foredeck, kind of like one of the swivel guns they had on the old wooden tall ships.)






I avoided the artist shops. The galleries are incredible and I've spent hours in them and come away with affordable prints when I'd loved to have the truly great originals.






There are so many great places to eat out and terrific coffee shops, the island being famous for it's coffee distribution. It's also famous for its lamb.. I got some lamb at Thrifty's that's Canadian produced but I 'm not sure it's Salt Spring Island Lamb. For some reason I had to drive my motorcycle up to a farm to get some Salt Spring Island lamb one year. I tried it out on my Aussie friend John and he said it was as close as he'd tasted to the 'real' thing here.






Harlan's Chocolate kidnapped me in broad daylight. I didn't have time to avert my eyes and I was inside the store jonesing.






Mostly it was fun walking around the town. I love the boardwalk along the harbor. It's a truly beautiful place and the island people are the most pleasant and sophisticated. It was the festive season, too. The days are getting marginally longer. I came home in the dinghy with night falling in the harbor. The sea otters were playing in the water.






Now it's great to be in the warm.

Porlier Pass

The 2009 Tide and Current tables listed the maximum ebb tide being about an hour before. My overland speed by GPS was 9.5 knots whereas my over water speed was 4.5. The ebb tide was listed as 4.7 at maximum. The whirlpools were fierce. I could have gunned it to 5.5 knots maximum but had the concern about the water cooling leak. I had to watch the depth meter to ensure I was in the channel. I stayed in 60 feet depth at least throughout. The first whirlpool caught the bow and literally yanked it almost 45 degrees starboard. I wrestled control heeling 3o to 40 degrees in the process, then it was easier with only 30 degree variations as different whirlpools tried to siphon the boat down. All the while I could see the shore passing and stupidly tried to get a bit of it on film when two hands on the steering wheel were essential to happy progress. Not the best camera 'holding' form. And very little clip as the last of the whirlpools had their way. Fog had rolled in and night was soon falling so I was really thankful to be through the pass and heading south in the Trinicomalli Channel to Ganges Harbour, Saltspring Island.

Because of the fog and night I was wholly dependent on the radar and the autopilot had failed just outside Porlier so was hand steering, stopping the boat to pee and get snacks and check the number of flashes on the lights against the chart. I had two propane catalytic heaters going in the cockpit and the cat insisted on sitting on my lap while I was hand steering. Eventually the fog cleared intermittently and the stars and moon came out. It was haunting gliding up the channel. I could see the lights of the ferry exiting Active Pass ahead. I almost decided to turn left and anchor in Montague Harbour but thought if I needed a part or something to fix the autopilot I could get it in Ganges Town. In the fog it was a bit of a challenge finding the channel to the town. I was glad for a large fishing boat already at anchor off the wharf. I anchored in next to him.

Finally below and settled in for the night I chow down on hot venison stew from the deer I shot and canned in the Queen Charlotte Islands, not last Christmas, but the Christmas before. Mmm good.

SV Giri – Strait of Georgia

I woke up at 8 am with Angel the cat under the covers beside me. As usual she was miffed at my expectation she move. The sun was shining in the port hole windows. The cabin was still cozy warm from the diesel heater but I flicked on the propane catalytic heater to get it toasty. Of course I fed Angel her canned food. Then I checked the deck going out to turn off the kerosene storm lantern , it's wick still burning. Despite trying a half dozen other ,some a couple of hundred dollars, nothing has ever worked as well as this cheapest of red, made in China, railway lanterns.

I cooked up some Red River Cereal which I had with evaporated milk and honey along with my Kona coffee made in the stove top expresso machine. Life is good!

I then set to work on the engine. I turned off the engine through hull at night but checked it nonetheless before disconnecting the water hoses to the impeller pump, after taking out the main screws that connected the housing to the engine, removing the belt drive at the same time. Then I unscrewed all the little screws holding the back on to the assembly giving me a view at the rubber impeller rotor. It was in good shape so I didn't mess with it.

I cleaned off the metal surfaces and took out the circular gasket. Everything looked good. Of course the gasket I had with the spare rotors wasn't the right gasket for this Johnson Pump F4B903 made in Sweden. So all I could do is find some Vaseline and clean up the old gasket. Then I carefully seated the screws on the back plate and tightened them alternatively till they were snug before tighting them all that last twist.

I connected the hoses tightening down each of the hose clamps as best I could. I was suspicious of the one worn hose end and would loved to have had a spare hose to replace that. As it was I reconnected the hose and belt drive and tightened the two screws through the housing to the engine. Using a screw driver I pulled down on the housing till I had just the right 2 finger tension on the belt.

Opening the thru hull I went topsides and started the engine. The drip was still there. Less but still there. Mmmmm. Water was coming out the side of the boat in the amount it usually did. I checked the boat water temperature and pressure and that was fine. What to do. Go on or go back. I opted to go on. I'd just keep a closer eye on the water temperature guage and though the engine is rated for 3000 rpm I normally run it at only 2500.

C'est la vie! I flicked on the anchor winch electrical switch , donned a fleece jacket and working Musto life vest and went topsides. The frost on the deck was melted by the sun though there was still some on the dinghy. Standing at the bow I stepped on the in pedal for the winch and watched the anchor chain come in. With a satisfying clank, the anchor came up and seated itself while I went back to the cockpit to put the engine in gear and head out into Howe Sound.

While the bay was protected the outflow winds of Howe Sound had caused the waters there to wear little snowy white caps. The boat healed as we took the turn then the wind was on our stern and we were headed out into Georgia Strait. A beautiful day indeed.

Once out of the Sound and leaving English Bay for Porlier Pass 20 plus miles across Georgia Strait I had 15 knot winds from the northwest so put up the foresail. It added a knot to the speed I was already making with the iron jenny giving me a respectable 5.5 knot speed with only 5 degree heel and nothing crashing about in the cabin. With diesel engine and diesel stove it's warm down below. The cockpit is a bit drafty but the dodger and windshield turn what would otherwise be a chilly journey into a pleasant cruise.

I'm typing this in the cockpit now. All around there's blue sea with a 2 foot chop and blue skies with lots of lo lying cloud. The weather report as for fog banks and there is one far ahead of me obscuring the islands but I figure it will burn off as the day progresses. By evening I should be in Montague Bay or maybe even at dock on Saltspring Island. It depends on the light. I'd rather anchor at night. Docking solo has had it's moments

Wow ! Just had a visit of a half dozen dolphins. They stayed to play riding the bow wave for a few passes and just as quick were on their way heading south. I love dolphins!