July 5, 2017: Blackberry-cinnamon rolls at the end of the road

Another gorgeous summer day began for me with a very cool, very bracing shower! Joy had taken a hot one at about 7 am and it was now nearly 9, and I thought that there should be enough “new” hot water generated by the immersion heater to produce one for me, but Walt had forgotten to turn the heater on, and the low temperature encouraged me to use little water indeed! Walt and Joy had gone ashore to visit Nancy’s Bakery sometime earlier, and I soon joined them on the shop’s sun-flooded, flower-bedecked terrace to have one of their famous blackberry-cinnamon sticky rolls.  Joy had just returned from a morning walk, Walt was writing a newsletter as board president of the Society of Scholar Priests, and a pleasant young gentleman informed us that the fresh blackberry rolls weren’t quite ready. Walt had consumed a pecan roll and Joy a raspberry-white chocolate one, but I love blackberries and those rolls came SO HIGHLY recommended by everyone that it was easy to decide to wait. “Seven minutes more!” the  helpful staff person said, and soon he came out to tell us that the blackberry- cinnamon rolls were just being taken from the oven. I bought one for me and another for Walt, and we were able to share a few bites with Joy, who is diabetic and has to be very careful about her carbohydrate consumption. WOW! I could not imagine a better breakfast pastry!

Joy took another walk (since we may be on the boat for two weeks now without many opportunities to go ashore), Walt finished the projects for which he needed good wi-fi, and I let friends and family know that they might not be hearing much from me until July 17 (when we plan to be Campbell River) because of lack of connectivity in many spots in Desolation Sound. Walt then went off to the general store to buy some items and Joy and I prepared Braesail for departure from our spot on the Lund dock once Walt had filled the water tanks. We pulled away at noon from this attractive little town at the end (or the beginning) of the road that goes all the way to Tierra del Fuego at the southern tip of Argentina, and motored for most of the next three hours among wooded, rocky islands of many sizes and shapes that were dozing beneath the gaze of azure-clad ermine-tipped mountain peaks on every side. We did raise all three of our sails for a short time, but there was little wind and we couldn’t make much progress in our desired direction, so we lowered the sails and turned on the engine again, missing the water-lapped quiet of the boat under sail.

By about 3:30 pm we were anchoring in the warm (72 degrees!), clear, deep green waters of Melanie Cove in Prideaux Haven (part of Desolation Sound Marine Park) at a spot where we could tie Braesail’s stern to a chain attached to one of the huge gray-black rocks lining the cove. A young man in a kayak offered to attach our stern line to the chain after we’d anchored in about 30 ft. of water just at the base of the rocks, and it didn’t take him long to paddle to the chain’s end and tie on the line. I was thankful for his help! Once our spot was secured, we snacked on popcorn, almonds, and clementines, and then took naps. Walt did some work on the port lights that open from the galley and the navigation station into the cockpit so that they will remain open without bracing, and then prepared a lovely tuna salad supper while Joy began a new novel and I typed this blog entry. I sat on the deck on the shady side of the boat, listening to the birds and watching them glide above the gently-rippled water, inhaling the perfume of sun-saturated water, rock, and forest, and being soothed by the chatter of a stream on the  side of the cove opposite us. Absolutely wonderful!

I had KP duty after supper (Joy and I take turns), Walt fixed some cabin door latches and installed screens for the hatches and port lights, and then Joy and I played Yahtzee in the cool of the cockpit. Chocolate chip/coffee ice cream served as our dessert in the cabin, but it was suddenly invaded by a squadron of whining mosquitoes, of which Walt killed several and I dispatched eight, none of which, fortunately, was carrying a bloody cargo! On our way to bed at about 10:45 pm, we watched the last light fade away to the northwest as a waxing gibbous moon cruised lazily above the tree-lined shore.




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