Sunday-Monday, October 11-12, 2026
I was right—I did NOT sleep much or well on Saturday night, and neither did Walt; the bobbing and swinging of the boat at the dock and the constant swatting, by the small wind-driven waves, of the stern right behind our heads in the aft cabin bed, were too annoying to allow for restful sleep. By about 10:15 am, however, we were walking, on another glorious autumn morning, up the hill to St. Michael and All Angels Anglican Church, where we would join their celebration of Canadian Harvest Thanksgiving. We’d very much enjoyed worshiping there last fall during our visit o Chemainus, and had found it noteworthy that the church’s newly-installed rector was The Rev. Dr. Norman Knowles!
We again were pleased to join the congregation in celebrating the Eucharist, and we stayed to visit with the Rector and some of the parishioners at coffee hour, finding, as if often the case, that we had a good deal in common with them in terms of interests, family histories, travel experiences, love of boats, etc. Someone had brought fresh apples and quinces from their trees to share, and I collected a few apples to take back to Braesail with us (the quinces had been snapped up before I took my turn at the refreshment table).
On our way back to the docks, we stopped at a delightful bakery to buy some fresh bread and delectable raspberry crumble bars, and as we approached our boat and greeted the folks working on the wooden schooner Freyja with whom we had chatted on Saturday, they told us that Braesail had been hit on the starboard bow by someone trying to back a too-large power boat into a too-small space, and they had taken the boater’s contact information for us (said boater was supposed to call Walt, but has not yet done so). Walt looked at the hull where the damage was supposedly done and found nothing significant, but we were very grateful to the Freyja’s owner for reporting the incident and getting the required information! We gave her a tour of Braesail, and she was highly impressed, thinking about what her own boat would look like one day.
Walt used the hose on the dock to fill our water tanks and then passed the hose to those working on Freyja, and one of them was very helpful to Walt as he maneuvered Braesail away from the dock at about 2 pm on a breezy afternoon. And as for WIND—we finally had enough blowing steadily over our stern quarter, at sufficient strength in the daytime when we didn’t have to charge the boat’s batteries by running the engine, and we didn’t have to be at a certain spot at a certain time, giving us enough time to travel slowly with wind alone if we so desired! These excellent conditions allowed us to SAIL for three marvelous hours, from Chemainus almost all the way to Genoa Bay, our day’s destination, at the leisurely pace of about 3-5 mph. This was the first time we’d been able to sail since September 1, and we were happy indeed!
By about 5:30 pm we were securely anchored in Genoa Bay, where there were relatively few boats resting tranquilly in a very large, well-protected body of water that housed a well-rated marina at one end and a sizeable float-home installation at the other, with a large, ancient wooden tugboat floating near the center. The wind had departed, the sea’s surface was rippling gently, and the sun was considering sliding behind a large hill. We were thankful for a lovely sail and a VERY restful evening, and we looked forward to a QUIET, refreshing night ahead!
Our Sunday night was peaceful indeed and ushered in a sparkling, slightly chilly morning. We spent a good part of the day in the warm “sun porch” cockpit, reading and writing and enjoying our beautiful surroundings. Walt baited and set out our crab trap near the mouth of the bay at some distance from the boat, and I did a little window-cleaning. When he returned from a run around the bay in Coracle, I climbed aboard, and we explored the anchorage, with its moored boats, well-kept marina, boat storage sheds, and float-homes and other structures. There were two seals lounging on a small floating platform, one of which slid off into the water as we passed; we ducked under two ramps to shore; we looked for the cafe and art gallery near the boat sheds on shore; and we wondered about some of the older and more unusual boats we motored past.
By about 4:30 pm, Walt was off to retrieve the crab trap and I was preparing to make a berry crumble for dessert in the evening. The trap came up with nothing, so Walt disposed of the untouched bait. My crumble went into the oven, and I began writing this blog post. After supper, I finished writing, we planned the last week (BIG SIGH!) of our time on Braesail, and we enjoyed the berry crumble as clouds spread across the darkening sky.
