Nite before last i tunneled into bed (low ceiling, it's kinda belly-crawl), and i thot: this is turning out exactly as hoped. I am again absorbed in real things (survival) instead of the trivial B.S. of normal modern existence.

And my chronic back ache has disappeared.

Up yesterday early, sought out the nearest breakfast at a fancy hotel overlooking the marina, then some final preps and i was off, which is to say filled up on gas. Luckily there was no waiting, no crowd of boats, and so little to crash into. As it turned out, i docked perfectly. Amazing. The young woman attendant had me wield the nozzle myself, so that i, not she, would be liable for environmental cleanup. It took 53.5 gal, $213. O my, but whadya do? If i'm gonna motor to alaska, i'm going to buy gas. (I am told the boat has an 80-gal tank, can go ~300miles on it, so <4mpg. It's very roughly a 2000-mile round-trip.)

Aweigh. It's a lovely day. No wind, sea glassy, til i get out in it. Initially little 1' wind waves, but as i move on these build to 2 or 3', and, as i get out among the islands, completely chaotic (waves from all directions, mixed up). So it's very rough. I consider putting in to some calm spot, but fact is: this is a good day to try out the sea-handling capabilities of this new-to-me power boat. I sailed this kinda mess before, but never motored it.

See the video from the last post. Pretty crazy for hours, but all went fine.

Ha but right off i made a navigation error. Working off the Lowrance electronic chart screen, i aimed around the southern point of a distant island, then turned north. Very soon i realized it was the wrong island! A dumb mistake, but not a critical one; i'd just continue on south of a chain of islands instead of north of them. (Too bad, the previous eve i'd given Cathy a detailed screen shot of my intended route for SAR purposes, which i was proud of, now here i was going a whole different way.) Cell-phoning the new plan to Cathy, and also today sending periodic "CheckIns" via the SpotX, she tracked the progress. Also this day i put SpotX in Track mode and hung it outside (unfortunately exposed to the salt spray) in hope that would work better, and in fact, it did work perfect all day. [The purple lines on the chart are traffic lanes for big ships.]

With the route change, i could also change my choice of Canadian Customs station. Boats entering Canada must of course check in with Customs. I selected Pender Island, designated on their website by a 'pin' stuck in a Google map. By ~3pm i was there.

It was a resort at the head of a calm lake-like recreational bay. Suddenly the waves were gone, and it was very warm/sunny. I docked perfectly.

A friendly man, Pierre, greeted me outside the resort. I explained my purpose. He directed me into an admin office. The young man there expressed concern that i hadnt cleared Customs.

"I thot that that was what i was doing here," i replied. (There were numerous 'pins' on the agency's Google map, and i just assumed resorts handed out the paperwork.)

He pulled out his phone and brought up a map, directing me to the actual station in another bay of the island cluster.

He advised me to go there right away, don't get any coffee at the restaurant or anything, i could get in trouble with Immigration.

I'd inadvertently become an illegal alien. (With the current U.S. political situation, i wish i'd applied for asylum.)

Outside, i explained the situation to Pierre (i think he runs the restaurant?), thanked him for not turning me in.

So i reluctantly left this perfect place, left the perfectly-docked dock, headed halfway out the bay, to duck thru a tiny passage between N & S Pender Isles. It was quite narrow & there was a strong current flowing against me, but no problem.

Out the other side into a 2nd beautiful bay, i remembered i'd been told that Canada Customs will confiscate any fresh unpackaged food. I had an ice chest half-full of fresh veggies. So i stopped, floating, for a big lunch salad.

Continued to the site, which was another lovely resort with several docks, but, from a distance, 1 had an official-looking sign with 2 columns of text, which i knew must be a government sign, since Canada government always repeats everything in English + French. 2 rich sailboats were docked there, 1 per side. I chose the left side, where there was space behind the current occupant. They had a big inflatable in tow behind them. I was already thinking of how i'd joke as i walked by them on the dock that i'd chosen the spot because the dinghy was a big rubber bumper on their stern. With the recent docking successes, I didnt anticipate any trouble, despite the direct staring glare of 1 of the folks in the big sailboat.

i approached slow & careful as always, & it was only at the last seconds i realized the crosswind breeze. I tried a quick reverse but it was too late and i hit the dock corner hard. Dang! Embarrassing.

So i made another attempt and this time 1 of the folks (not Mr.Glare) came over to help ease me in.

Thanks :)

At the head of the dock was a small building which was the Customs Office, but it was locked up, no one there. But a man was there outside at a phone with receiver to ear, and i realized this is something i'd heard of, Call-In Customs.

The man was not saying anything to the phone so i figured he was listening to some long message, or was on-hold. I took photos as i waited.

After awhile of this, the man said to me that he had been on-hold a very long time, and that if i too was checking in, i should probably use one of the other phones.

Absorbed in the lovely day and place, I had not even noticed that there were more phones. So i picked one up, and waited.

Signs warned that tho marijuana is now legal in Canada, importing it privately is not, hence it must be declared.

I wondered, with no one here to confiscate them, what would happen to my remaining veggies?

Finally, it wasnt too long, maybe 15min, a tired bored man who talked fast, because he'd said it too many times, came up on the line, took my info. ("Passport expiration?" Looking at the it, i read "april 1, 2010". "That doesnt sound right," he said fast, bored. "O that's issue date, expiration is 2020. Sorry."

So he asked about weapons, drugs, products for sale, and more than $10,000. None of above. "Alcohol?" "~8 beers." "Any food?" "Vegetables," i admitted. He didnt even pause. "How long will you be in Canada?" "2-4 months." "Purpose in coming to Canada?" "I'll go to Alaska, turn around and come back." This time he paused, finally: "Yeah."

I'm sure what he was thinking was: some of us have jobs.

He gave me a Report# and we were done. It was easy and i still had a half-head of lettuce, a couple tomatoes, 3 bananas, and a pile of tangerines and oranges, some past prime.

Question what to do now. I could actually keep going. But it likely was even worse out there, it was so nice here, and i was beat.

So i moved up the shore a bit and anchored in a tiny low-rock-lined cove, spent the nite. Various seabirds close made their various comic sounds, and at bedtime in the dark i could hear a seal doing its seal thing.

I'm in a completely new environment, doing a new thing. I feel (as they say now) 'woke'.

and there i sit now, writing this to y'all, as, i woke up still feeling beat. I decided to sit another day, maybe get something done on the list: Inflate my new raft; tie the new battery into the system, then wire electronic devices to it; find the bag of sugar (still getting sorted out), assemble the new anchor+rode, and store it in some efficient/useful way, check the oil, glue the little rim thats coming apart around the engine cover. And i wish i could move the battery switch to someplace more accessible. But more likely: stare.

Except dang i swear the anchor must be dragging, despite little wind or waves, i'm much closer to shore than before. Will check and get back at ya.