Everything is better in Nanaimo

I don't know if it's just because of the location, as the sort of northern terminus of the protected waters of the Gulf Islands, or if there is something about the place itself, but it seems like Nanaimo always serves as our happy place when we are cruising in the Strait of Georgia.

If there were ever a time we needed a happy place to go to, it was certainly this week. Ending a whirlwind, on again/off again visit to Vancouver the day after returning from a trip back to the States (for work and play; Mandy worked, I played), we had an arduous crossing of the Strait with no realistic options for bailing out or stopping early. Mandy came down with a terrible cold and was laid up in the v-berth most of the day; the wind was on the nose, and was only moderate at that, which made for a lot of slow beating across a lot of slop left over from heavier breezes the night before; we were low on fuel, necessitating a two hour detour and arguing against motoring; and we hadn't had a chance to go shopping to restock our barren pantry before we left. Also, another storm was brewing on the horizon, ominously, all day long.

So it was under those conditions that we chugged across the Strait for eleven hours, ending up at nightfall in an anchorage that was chock full of Labor Day sailors. In the rain. All I could do after such a numbing day was shovel down some hot ramen (which, together with instant oatmeal and granola bars, comprised the entirety of our larder for the trip) and crawl into my berth and hope that the anchor was set well enough to endure the wind shift coming with the storm.

We woke to a rainy, miserable day, in a damp, dark, chilled cabin. Mandy was still sick, I was still tired. But it was Labor Day, and we didn't really have anywhere to go: docks and anchorages were full, and anyway most of the stores we might have gone to were probably closed. So we just hung around and watched the rain coming down on the portlights.

Today was a new day. The rain stopped, the anchored boats evaporated, the stores opened, and the docks cleared. We hauled the anchor in and motored over to go shopping. It was still overcast, but fresh food brightened our spirits considerably. Returning to Mark Bay, the well-protected, solid anchorage off Newcastle Island Marine park, we had our choice of spots to drop the hook. I got well in close to the dinghy docks, and in the most protected nook in the bay. We managed to get our fiddly diesel heater going, and between it and the glimpses of sunshine that shot through the clouds by mid-afternoon, we got the cabin heated up and the relative humidity down from just over 90% to around 75%. Not exactly dry, but a lot drier, and warmer, than it had been.

We didn't have either oatmeal or ramen or a single granola bar all day today.

Tomorrow and Thursday are supposed to be the best days before another storm system rolls in late in the week, so we hope to spend some time exploring the park further. When it starts raining again, we can either hole up here with the heat on and the wet all locked outside, or we can take a little harbour ferry from the island in to town and amuse ourselves there. It feels good to be all stocked up, with no pressing deadlines, easy access to provisions, power and Internet readily available, and no need to venture out for anything.

We'll probably sit here for a week or so, then duck into a marina to do laundry and take on water, then start poking our way south through the Islands again. Even if September this year doesn't extend our summer measurably, fall isn't so oppressive if you can stay warm and dry and pick your ports as you choose, rather than being forced into them by circumstances.