British Columbia Desolation Sound

Roscoe Bay, West Redonda Island

Wednesday, September 14, 2011S.V. CAMBRIA

Black Lake, Roscoe Bay Marine Park.

I'm beginning to wonder what it is about Roscoe Bay that always seems to bring the rain when we're anchored here.  Though there's a certain beauty to be appreciated when it drizzles, after spending the past month enjoying warm, sunny days the change has been too abrupt and is unwelcome.  I've been saying that summer's over since the early part of August only to be proven wrong time and time again.  But here it is, the fourteenth of September, and there's been a significant difference in the weather over the past couple of days that has a sense of permanence about it.  That's not to say we've seen the last of the fine weather, but it will have to share its time with the rain and cold.  Although I hope I'm wrong again, the calendar makes me believe that I'm not.

If there's one job that can't be ignored even in the rain, it's shoring the dog.  For years I've been taking Sally to the site of the Christensens' former home with absolutely no idea that anybody ever lived there – nature having taken over during the past seventy years.  But there are clues, if you pay close attention, in the form of ivy as well as apple and cherry trees. The cherries are long gone, but the apples are in season and there are plenty of ripe blackberries, so I picked them until my fingers were stained purple while Sally mooched around the bluff pretending to be some kind of intrepid grass-eating explorer before returning to the boat for a late-morning tea with the Emmens.

Dousing our chances of exploring yesterday, it cleared up enough this afternoon that David, Bill, Sylvia and I were able to walk down to the lake.  We brought along our kayaks and Sylvia and I paddled the length of the lake which ends in a marsh before turning back –a two nautical miles round-trip (a long way in an inflatable kayak) – while David and Bill sat on the bathing rocks and chatted.

But I'm afraid our time in Desolation Sound is over for now.  We committed ourselves to attending the Jazz Festival in Pender Harbour this weekend and will have to start making our way south tomorrow.  Because neither one of us is looking forward to leaving, we put the trip off until the last minute and now find ourselves sailing to a schedule – something that we HATE doing – and may have to fight some weather along the way making the fifty nautical mile trip even longer.  But all isn't lost!  Neither one of us is ready to leave the area for the season, so we decided to make the return trip on Tuesday of next week. 

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