Back to the other reality

Clouds rolled in quickly, the wind came up and it rained again in the night. The water had turned that steel grey with chop that can make it challenging to paddle through. Neither of us were all that enthusiastic about leaving as we ate our breakfast and cleaned up the dishes. All the wood I had carried in was stacked beside the stove and a now dying fire. We stuffed dry bags with gear and the remains of the food. I carried it all down as Matthew effortlessly hoisted each kayak and placed them at waters edge.
Already my hands were cold! The wind blowing from the SE meant we were in quarter seas till rounding Saltspring then straight into it to get home. However, as I paddled away jamming my hands into the pogies there seemed to be little wind at all, and once past Jackscrew the water leveled off and it was an easy paddle to the light on the reef by Saltspring.
Paddling back to Tent Island was easy, more giant jellyfish drifting by beneath us and of course seals everywhere. Pulling up on the beach at the north end I recalled the many times I had been there before. In fact the first time a friend took a picture of Matthew's mother and I with the little guy walking along the beach. That picture made it into the paper.

Matthew, impressed by the profusion of Arbutus berries, snaps a picture capturing an eagle. Two more follow checking out what the gulls were feeding on in the channel. Apparently not worth their interest, they returned and perched in a big fir making conversation.
The venting steam from Crofton indicated only a slight breeze so we took our time and Matthew got some shots of the guano stained sandstone on the west face of Tent.

Quite a different colour now that the birds have gone and the rains have come. I find it hard to describe or express the magnificence of the sandstone etched, carved and smoothed by the elements. One of the reasons I find kayaking here so compelling. The physicality of our environment is like an amazing taste of ambrosia or the unexpected touch of one's lover while focused elsewhere.


Meanwhile it was time to go home. Across Stuart Channel, then back under the bridge, the tide high ( I have spent a few occasions dragging my boat through inch deep water cause I didn't check beforehand!). We powered past the men in pfds still loading logs to go offshore. By now the deck was piled high. They found us a strange sight I think, as they stared long and hard while we slipped by towards the boat launch.
Matthew collected the van as I emptied the hatches, so grateful for the adventure and impressed at my lack of soreness. I bought us each a hot drink at the bookstore cafe, tempted as I was by the stacks of unread books, I didn't dare. Back to civilization; traffic, storage lockers, computers and the warm embrace of familiarity, home and community.

Father son retreat

The bed is short, what a surprise. I sleep diagonal and wake up a few times stepping out in the cool air to relieve myself. Stars shining brightly and lots of them, not much light pollution here. Seabirds of unknown identity making their morning sounds, water like glass.
Morning comes and I am inspired by the eastern light seeping upward into the sky over Wallace. I love a good sunrise and this one bears the tidings of a great day to come. Matthew sleeps through it, I think he stayed up later than I reading by candlelight and (I hope) his headlamp.
If only I had had one as a kid!

I get a good fire going for our tea, and write my morning pages.
Seems like we will need more wood, so after a fruitless search for gloves we go at er. I have my camera and am constantly distracted by the abundance of fungi, yellow coral, witches butter and some numerous large and completely blackened mushroom carcasses, they turn out to be the Black and White Russula, Russula Albonigra .

Matthew has it in hand, mycillium encrusted fir rounds and a maul. He has a good pile going when I step in to relieve him. I split a few and he tells me he wants to take it all. What I see is the slope and humus piling up behind the half buried row of rounds creating a nice example of permaculture terracing. Seems like an opportunity to give something back to the land and increase the soil. We disagree and I decide to go for a walk, cameraless.
My explore takes me south along the beach then across the island onto some moss encrusted ridges. This island was logged maybe 100 years ago so the remaining big trees have had some time to grow. There are mushrooms galore, no shortage of diversity here. I see abundant Lobster mushroom, looking a little old but still attractive. Arresting! That bright orange is remarkable.

When I return, I am drenched in sweat and decide to jump in the ocean, removing my clothes first of course. The sun is shining after all. Man that water is refreshing whooee!
Make some lunch, we have a glass of wine and make peace.
While the water is so calm we carry the fiberglass canoe down to the water. I suggest circumnavigating the island clockwise. A new experience for Matthew, he has always done it the other way. Amazing how familiar territory looks different when approached from the opposite direction. The water is clear, no breeze, it is an effortless exercise. We pull in at the south end and follow the deer trails into an open area where we collect a relatively fresh Lobster mushroom and spot a not so fresh Eagle carcass. Me I'm game to pull some tail feathers or a wing and wow that head/skull would be awesome! It is all attached still and besides I haven't dealt with the feathers I mailed myself from New Zealand.... I leave it.
As we round the point and head back an Oyster Catcher is close by and out come the cameras.

After stowing the canoe we head off across the island. The trail is unfamiliar to Matthew, I am hoping we can locate some of the mushrooms I saw earlier. He is like a goat, clambering over the slippery rocks. This time I have my camera and get some great shots of Lobsters, Lactarius, clusters of some I don't recognize on a fallen fir, an Oyster growing on dead Arbutus and a large bracket high up in a Willow. We collect more lobsters for dinner and head back. Crank up the stove, chop veggies and combine it all in a stir fry extraordinaire. I get out the headlamp and eventually find the reference in the Mushroom book although there was never any doubt.
A glass or more of wine and more story telling, reminiscing and reflections of a life lived in multiversity, love and relationship, judgments and realizations.
I feel some sadness that my father has not spent this kind of time with me and a lot of gratitude I am spending it with my son.

Rememberance

November is grey and wet. An opportunity to paddle over to South Secretary arose around the four day weekend. It has been so long since I was on the water...
Pachena in August
Up the river, we saw a young bear walking a log and peering at us as we pushed up on the tide as far as we could go. Later I paddled out along the east shore and collected some kelp fronds to be dried and sprinkled in my breakfast this winter. Then the kayak was in storage all through September and October.

Matthew arrived late morning, and I quickly took care of the last commitments, grabbed the gear I had, some food (I managed to forget the Butterflies and shortbread)then we boogied on down to the storage. Pulled out my tote of gear, found my paddle and strapped on the kayak.
Stop for groceries, twice! I stayed in the van packing stuff into the drybags at the second stop, realizing all my drybags were in the other tote! Luckily Matthew had extra. Extra water too, I appreciated the ballast as I was anticipating some rough water.
It all fit of course and we set off along beside the Black Forest out of Hong Kong loading slings of logs out of the water. A tug and a crew of men with pike poles and (I hope caulk boots) jumping around on the booms. The mill was spewing out its usual steamy clouds, the wind mostly in our favour and once past the bridge, thankfully behind us.

Crossing to Tent was easy; the water like glass, few boats out, no wakes, and the sky cleared in a large oval to the west giving us some sun.

Matthew insisted I run up and down the beach with him. I took off the spray skirt and PFD so my lungs could expand and chased him for at least two laps. By then my knees were complaining fiercely. Some chocolate, crackers and cheese and a HB egg for sustenance and we were off again. I had fingerless gloves and pogies around my larger than standard loom stick. The tips of my fingers took a long time to warm up. Once I was I in there I stayed, no pulling up the rudder or having a drink while paddlin for this boy.


What a joy to be on the water, birds galore and undulating jellyfish of all sizes. The water, crystal clear along the rock gardens so lots to see. Seals in abundance as well; following, regarding with curiosity and reacting with surprise.
Talking with Matthew has always been easy, and the time slipped by with little effort as we spoke of the past, present and future. In the moments of silence there was plenty to reflect upon. Remembrance of things past, friends, lovers, family and a lot of years watching waves lap on those shorelines.
I love how strong Matthew is, makes me feel like an old man! watching him carry the empty kayaks up under the tree high above the tideline. He has the key, unlocks the door and we dump our stuff. I get the fire going, thank you to whoever left the wood sitting there. It is soon blazing, we didn't bring a stove or propane, so this is it. Water on for tea and he throws together a soup to go with the corn chips and salsa. Wonderful, simple food beside a roaring inferno. Ten feet back, the cold air is waiting for an opportunity. We sit and talk, tell stories and play dominoes by the light of the fire and a few candles. Someone likes candles, there a few boxes of them here. I will make a point of reminding myself to buy some replacements.


My phone was not receiving well. It rang then the connection is lost 3 or 4 times and I text my regrets.
Matt speaks with a friend who might show up on the morrow, at the moment off to see The Three Jackasses... wow what a contrast.
The moon is bright on the water, closing in on first quarter and low on the horizon. I wonder if Elke saw the moon today... It is quiet outside, a Heron squawks, the water laps gently, off to the right some light reflecting off the sky, probably Ladysmith. Few lights are visible on Saltspring, we really are alone. I relax and enjoy the completeness of being here.