Out again to big water, the sheen was glassy, but there were roller waves from the ocean. It made me nervous, especially given the grey, always feels ominous.
It was going ok, but the rollers were getting bigger. I had to decide whether to detour behind islands, or shortcut across the sea. Anyone cautious would do the former. And then there's foolish me.
I passed behind 1 small outlying island, and then for absolutely no apparent reason, the rollers disappeared. It was flat the rest of the day. And the sun shined.
There was 1 intricate shallow passage i had to navigate just before Prince Rupert, there were some surprises but i caught my mistakes before any disaster. Then we were out of the natural environment adventure and back to the human 1.
First: despite now back to civilized city zone, my phone stopped working. I'd gotten a text from Verizon congratulating my entry to Canada, with a helpful phone# to call and an interlink link if i needed them. But if your phone doesnt work, how do you do that?
I think this worked before when i 1st entered Canada in May. Finally i remembered: i needed to reboot the phone. That done, it worked, marvelous. (So why didnt the verizon msg say that?)
i just wanted to get to a marina and take a shower. But 1st order of business: check in with Canada Customs. When i first entered back in May, i searched the internet for ports of entry, found 1 nearby, went there, crashed into their dock, with witnesses, found the government station unoccupied, and used the phone hanging there on the wall for the uncomplicated check-in.
Expecting a simple repeat, i searched their website, and found that indeed i could phone in, and they'd either do it by phone or tell me where to go to do it in person.
So i phoned, sitting in my boat out in the harbor. On-hold ~15 minutes, finally answered. They take some basic info: boat registration, my name, what marina i'm at? Wait, i'm not at a marina yet. She sounds kinda exasperated: you're supposed to be at a marina. OK, fine, where should i go? Again, almost sputtering: you should've checked into this before! So i apologized and we hung up.
I did some more internet research and found the list of marinas considered Ports of Entry, called Cow Bay Marina, made arrangements to stay there, went there. The nice woman i'd talked to was there waiting at the dock. Unfortunately the wind conditions were a repeat of the Skagway experience: approaching, i was blown away from the dock. Oddly however, this young wharfinger hadnt been trained. I moved the bow to the dock, she grabbed the line from the bow. At this point she should've secured it to a cleat on the dock, then i'd reverse, that'd pull my stern to the dock, all would be fine. Instead, as i reversed, she, apparently thinking i was backing out, fed-out the unsecured bow line, hence accomplishing nada. An adjacent recreational mariner-ess, seeing the distress (because that's what boaters do in a harbor, they watch other boaters in distress), admirably dashed from the cabin of their 50' magnificent crusing trawler, took the line, secured it, and all was fine.
Did i mention it was a magnificent warm sunny day in Prince Rupert? The couple in the trawler was really nice, we had a fine conversation, which is the other thing cruisers do in harbors.
But, filthy, i wanted to shower, and, as per habit upon any arrival, pee, ASAP. But before i could do any of this, indeed before i could register with the marina, i was legal-bound to contact Customs. I asked Ms. Wharfinger, Jenna, about it. She said there was a special landline phone for such use, but it didnt work; i should just call on my cell. Exactly what i did before.
So i did that. On hold, twice i did what i often do on hold, my cheek contacts the touch screen and cuts me off. Perhaps it's the beard. Usually it happens when i've been on-hold ridiculously long and a (surely underpaid) person finally answers; then i start all over again. But finally i did get thru, and truly all they wanted was my name, boat registration#, where i was now (Cow Bay Marina, yes!), where i came from (simply, "Ketchikan", we won't get in to the story of the waves, stern-quarter-on, almost tipping, everything flying, making the point, anchoring cove, in 3-part harmony), and "do you have anything to declare?"
I thot about it, replied, honestly: "no".
Only now do i realize the partial head of lettuce, 2 tomatos, carrots, a couple small slimy shrooms, and an opened bottle of 1000-island dressing.
I'd have to get a room!
Thanks to wonders of tech, it was small effort to discover a B&B indeed directly adjacent and overlooking the harbor. The website didnt have the usual way of reserving online, so i called the phone# offered.... and got a recorded msg from a nice lady saying she'd be back the 16th (in 2 days).
This was not helpful. But the place was practically next door, so i walked over there. The front door, despite "vacant" & "open" signs, was locked. In fact there were numerous signs taped to the adjacent window, including 1 that referred to an entrance to the right.
Well, this entrance was to the right... of the sign... but maybe...
Checking farther to the right, around a corner, was another entrance. Intriguing. And another sign, instructing: push the button hard, then give her 2 minutes to respond.
The nice lady was there like the wind. And there was a vacancy. 130$C. But i must stay 2 nites.
This was a really nice place, view, character, very unusual, i told her she was very persuasive. And i needed a shower. I needed to write this Blog. Which is taking forever. 2 nites.
We did the paperwork, i paid.
So now i'd need my stuff from the boat. But i was locked out. After the prolonged struggle to report my presence to the Canadian authorities, i'd gone to the harbor office to register there, but no one was present. Desperate for lunch & IPA, i'd fled the compound, and now, electronic-keyless, i couldnt get back in.
So now i call the # for the Harbor, leave a msg. And then stand/stare. I observed a highly energetic middle-aged man hurrying around the docks, doing stuff. When he got close, i called to him. He hurried up. I need to register. We did the procedure. >60$C was the fee. This is too much. I was used to pay-by-the-foot, which surely wudnt be more than ~$40s. But you're in a slip, he said, the slip is for a 40-ft boat, so you pay for a 40' boat.
Jenna, Wharfinger, was new and hadnt done it right. I should'v been assigned to park parallel along a long dock, instead of my very own 40' slip.
No problem the very nice and supremely efficient manager says, you can move to the dock along the breakwater. We do the deal.
I go to the boat, find that the proposed location has that impossible-to-dock-all-by-myself wind.
Back to manager: i can't do it. No problem, he replies, i'll help. Good for him. But i've devised another solution, there's a section of dock, adjacent to where i am, where clearly they dont normally park anything; but my tiny craft 'll fit right there.
He doesnt think it's big enuf, but to his credit, we investigate. It's big enuf. He helps me drag boat by its ropes, helps me tie up there. Done. And no personal docking shame.
He actually thanked me for coming up with the idea. "It's the busy time," he said. "I don't look for problems, i want solutions."
The solution actually moved me away from the neighbor enuf that there's little need for the B&B.
Back at the B&B, the nice lady apologizes, it turns out the room has been rented already for tomoro nite, i can have it only 1 nite. Which was all i wanted in the 1st place. She's really sorry. Perfect.
Ensconced of sorts in my B&B room, deck overlooking all, i watch the Canada Navy training ships go back&forth, back&forth, as if teaching someone(s) to drive. A line of ships parked out, waiting their turns to take Canada coal, or maybe grain, no doubt to China. The sun is hot. Wonderful.
1 comment:
How do you get soooo lucky?
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