Wednesday-Thursday, September 23-24
The task list: Rubbish and recycling disposed of, check! Refrigerator defrosted, check! Walk ashore to pay moorage fees and buy groceries, check! Fill the two 70-gallon water tanks, check! Buy Diesel, no—we have sufficient fuel and think we might find a slightly lower price elsewhere. Walt started to replace our present engine’s alternator with a new one, but encountered difficulties that he’ll have to wait to overcome until after our return home. While he did his engine work, I defrosted the refrigerator using cups of hot water splashed on the glacier that had formed on its back wall and sopped up the water with a sponge until the little drain in the floor was cleared of debris.
After a brunch that included waffles and leftover Greek salad, Walt and I walked up the dock to the Heriot Bay Inn on a gorgeous, unexpectedly warm day to rid ourselves of more detritus, pay for Wednesday night’s moorage, and look through the lovely gift shop near the lobby. We then walked the short distance to the main road and found our way quickly to the very-well-stocked TruValue grocery store, where we purchased the supplies we needed and returned to the boat, each of us carrying one heavy bag. I stowed the provisions and did my daily German exercises and read and wrote email while Walt attached several hoses together in order to bring water from the spigot on the dock to the entrance to our tanks. I enjoyed watching people on the Inn’s grounds (in addition to dock space, the facility offers a pub, outdoor eating, cabins, campgrounds, and RV parking), and on the beach (the tide was out and the beach was broad), and was able to get a nice photo of the Inn.
A relaxed afternoon and evening, during which we listened to pipe organ music, as we very often do, discussed plans for Thursday over supper, and then watched a “cozy” detective mystery, as we often do. We had had a very pleasant and comfortable stay here!
Thursday, September 24
Thursday morning dawned cool and very gray after a bright, almost-hot Wednesday. Walt decided that we needed tomatoes and a few other items from the grocery, so he walked up to the store in the morning while I read email, did some German exercises, and tidied the cabins in preparation for departure to Drew Harbour just outside the Heriot Bay Inn Marina. He returned with the desired tomatoes AND Nanaimo bars—hearty cheers! Some fellow mariners at our dock were working on a project on their boat, and Walt was able to assist by lending them some tools, and had to wait for some time for them to return his heavy wrench (their project was successful).
With the wrench returned, we left in mid-day for Drew Harbour, a huge bay only about a mile distant. Walt motored slowly back and forth near Rebecca Spit, a long, thin, curved strip of forested land featuring attractive beaches bordered with driftwood that is part of a Provincial Marine Park. Once he had mapped the bottom of the bay and selected a good anchoring spot, he began to lower Braesail’s anchor. As this process started, however, the anchor chain began to run uncontrollably through the windlass (this mechanism raises and lowers the anchor by controlling the chain) from the anchor locker below the boat’s bow, through the anchor roller in the bow, and down onto the sea floor! I should have stepped onto the chain with both feet to stop it, but stupidly didn’t think to do so; instead, I gestured wildly to Walt in the cockpit that something was going badly wrong, and because of the racket of the engine and the rattling chain, I couldn’t understand his shouted commands to step on the chain. By the time he reached the bow and stepped on the chain himself, almost 300 ft. of it had run overboard and there wasn’t much of it left in the locker. All of this led to the breaking in half of a ring-shaped piece of heavy bronze inside the windlass; we found both pieces; and Walt replaced them inside the windlass and covered them with the washer that normally sits on top of them. I brought him a winch handle from the cockpit, he was able to tighten the windlass and bring up most of the runaway chain, and he was then able to set the anchor safely in about 25 feet of water. WHEW!! We could have lost the anchor and chain into 30 feet of water and broken the wall of a compartment inside the chain locker! I didn’t think about this until later . . .
Once all was secure, Walt did some online research and found and ordered a new windlass part that will take about 10 days to arrive at the home of our son in Vancouver B.C. Meanwhile, we must tighten the windlass with a winch handle before every use and be prepared to step hard onto the anchor chain to stop it if it again begins to run out wildly and head for the bottom of the sea. Interestingly, 10 years ago, when we were in this very same area during Braesail’s first voyage following her arrival in the Pacific Northwest, with Walt’s elderly mom on board with us, the windlass that was on the boat at that time also broke down, but it was completely unusable and we had to procure another windlass, at considerable expense, in a city on the eastern shore of Vancouver Island! This time, we seem to have been protected through God’s grace!
The predicted drizzle arrived later in the evening for an overnight stay, Walt had a good conversation with our son in Vancouver, Walt made and served a hearty supper, and I felt increasingly troubled, and grateful, as I understood more about what had happened when we were anchoring. I am enjoying a Nanaimo bar and trying to focus on giving thanks that no major disaster occurred, and to think of ways to respond more usefully in the future.
