We got up and out of Silva Bay at about 0500 yesterday and the wind was about 20 knots out of the south, just as forecast. I was able to immediately lay on a course of 060T which was exactly what I needed to end up in the mouth of English Bay, and even with a reef in the mainsail we were moving along at five and a half knots or better, more than enough to put us in town by 1000 as I had planned.
There was very little vessel traffic but the seas were confused and choppy which made for a pretty rough ride. I stood watch for a couple hours, during which the wind, unfortunately, started to back into the southeast, and as Mandy came up and took her turn it moved further and further toward our nose, pushing our course further and further north of the lay line for the Spanish Bank.
We ended up off Bowen Island at around 0900, where, as predicted, our pals in Warship 710 found us and chatted us up over the VHF. We didn't get stopped though, which was fortunate as the wind was now right on the bow between us and the entrance to False Creek. We started beating our way south but it became apparent we weren't going to make it on time. The seas were still so choppy that motoring wasn't likely to do much better, however. We cut into English Bay as far as we could and the chop was reduced, and we dropped sail and fired up the engine to head straight toward the entrance.
We had to dodge a few freighters: one coming in behind us, and six or so moored in English Bay. We got looked over again by an RCMP launch, but fortunately again, they didn't stop us. We ended up getting in to False Creek right about 1130. There was the usual drama trying to contact the Harbour Authority but they had a slip all ready for us when we did get hold of them, with the right kind of power, and toward the base of the dock, natch. So we were able to slide right in, tie up, and head out.
Unfortunately, I had neglected to print off directions to the will-call office. I used my phone's web browser (a very expensive web browser up here, to the tune of $10 per megabyte) to find a phone number and gave them a call, and managed to get the nearest cross streets through the staticky connection. It was just across the Granville Street bridge and up a few blocks, and there was no line at all when we got there (although Mandy contrived to delay us by launching into a conversation with the ticketing agent) and we were in and out in no time. Up a block to a bus line leading to the Sea Bus terminal, and one of a veritable cab rank of buses available swept us right up to the terminal.
There was a Sea Bus departure three minutes later, and so we were just about able to step right on board and steam smartly across the bay. The whole Vancouver transit experience was superlative. There were a lot of buses, running frequently, traffic was extremely manageable (I don't know if this was just luck or due to the traffic shaping efforts of the Games organizers), and directions were always clear and informative. The Sea Bus, a water taxi, is a purpose-built double-ender with a special terminal at each end that allows extremely fast loading and unloading for rapid turn around. I didn't really measure the trip time across Vancouver Harbour but it couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes. The boats were full; the buses were generally at a comfortable 3/4 capacity (although, later in the day, we passed one that was standing room only, stuck at a stop because the relief driver had not yet appeared).
The north SeaBus terminus, Lonsday Quay, is also the departure point for the remote venue buses... and we were there by one o'clock, an hour early after all the rushing!
It was an hour well-spent, however, as we had an opportunity to hit a cash machine and get some food, beverages, and snacks to replenish us after a taxing morning. We were the first ones in line for our scheduled departure time. The Olympic bus system was the only thing we saw in the whole day that seemed to have any glitches in it. People were given different directions, some of them kept off buses that were not full, but which departed before the time on their tickets, while others were allowed on. At the other end, coming back, vast ranks of empty buses stood ready to take us back, but all were being held to depart at the same time, even though many people were already ready to go. The kinks were worked out, eventually, but they were a little irritating and seemingly obvious.
The ride up to Whistler was about two hours. We passed some sort of motorcade coming back the other way; the bus driver made a crack over the PA system that it was President Obama but it clearly wasn't (he sent a delegation); a clue as to the identity of the eminences came later in the day as we overheard a volunteer talking about escorting members of the royal family around the venues. Even without the motorcade escort, it looks like they must have pulled in Mounties from all over the country. RCMP presence was heavy all along the route and at the venue. Good time to stage a bank robbery in Saskatoon, I'll bet.
It was raining when we got there and we had to wade through some slush to get to the security checkpoint. They were reasonably thorough but not intrusive and everyone was in good spirits despite the damp.
The drawback of watching the luge is the serpentine nature of the track, which makes it hard to get a sense of where you are, where the athletes are, or what exactly is going on. You could only see a hundred meters or so of track from any particular observation point. What we did see looked very nice, however. We picked a spot at the final turn, near the finish line, and a large TV screen was set up to show you what was happening elsewhere. I timed a few of the competitors going through, and if you didn't count the TV screen, we saw them live and in person for just under three seconds each. But it was an exciting three seconds... they were right in the "Death Curve" at that point and headed to the finish line. We saw a few of them bump the sides but no one wrecked, fortunately.
The Germans took an early lead and held on to it. At some point, the rain changed to snow, and then it really started to feel like the Winter Olympics. Actually, it got downright cold. I for some reason hadn't expected that. All that talk about lack of snow, unseasonable temperatures, and the like, had me more ready for rain than snow. So I froze a little bit; but a not unreasonably priced hot chocolate got me thawed out, and after they told us at the bus embarkation point that none would be leaving until almost 2100, we went and wandered around Whistler Village a bit. We'd never been there before, so I'm not sure what upgrades were done for the games and what was just that way before, but it's a lovely and inviting place, worth returning for a visit another time. Not during the games; no one goes up there that doesn't have a ticket or residency past the checkpoints on the Sea to Sky Highway.
The organization of the whole vast array of events is mind-boggling and has been extremely impressive so far. As I mentioned before, the only glitch we have seen is with the buses. But it's so complex, so immense, and so unpredictable (several other events were cancelled at Whistler that day due to fog) that it's an amazing tribute to the organizers that it is running so smoothly. The organizers, and the thousands of blue-clad volunteers who Mandy keeps calling "The Martians" (this absolutely befuddled me until I asked for an explanation; she said, "Aren't Martians always blue?" and I had to explain, from my vast background of science-fiction knowledge, that Martians were almost always little green men, not blue. But the name stuck) who are everywhere holding signs, radios, and clipboards, and doing all the grunt work of directing the hordes of lost spectators where they need to be in time to see their next event. We stood in line next to another guy from Seattle whose girlfriend is volunteering here; apparently all they get is the coat, hat, and pants, but the work they are doing is amazing.
The guy and his girlfriend seem to have the right idea. They found a cheap room at a hostel and have been scarfing up tickets wherever they can get them. They got tickets to the opening ceremonies, which apparently were amazing (we haven't seen them yet; we'll watch online later in the week). He liked luge, so he was going up to see that while his girlfriend had a shift volunteering.
If our accommodations hadn't been so up in the air and times weren't otherwise tight, it would have been fun to do that and play it more by ear here. I imagine they will have an amazing time. We're having fun ourselves already, and I'm looking forward to getting out and seeing what else is going on in the city over the next few days (protests aside; we missed yesterday's since we were up the mountain when it was happening for the most part). It is vibrant out in the streets. We got back in town around 2300 or so from the mountain, and it was as busy as when we left. Anyway, we made it to what we had hoped, and enjoyed it, and are looking forward to the rest of our stay.
I'm already awake earlier today that I had planned, so it's almost like a free day, although we have to devote some time to housekeeping and boat work so we can be ready to leave again next week.
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