# Island Life

So the 3 horse is working after all- thank goodness- but it’s a slow plough through the water to get to town. Bob, perched like a cormorant drying it’s wings on a log, sits exposed to the weather on the transom holding in one hand the handle of a pipe wrench that’s clamped on to the 50 horse to keep it on course, and the other hand holding the throttle of the 3 horse.

The wind was up but didn’t seem too rough. At first. By the time we got out into it the waves were oh, shoulder height. Yee- haw.

Brought back memories when we drove small open boats for about 18 years, ah yes, those were the wet, dare I say, drenched days of yore. When even the slightest chop would land us salt encrusted. But it was the dinghy years that I did fondly remember. In retrospect, madness.

Picture if you will an 8 foot inflatable holding two adults and two young teenagers. From a distance you wouldn’t even see what it was our four bodies were perched upon, a little closer you think, are they on an inner tube? Then add in the groceries. This at least wasn’t always the case, the kids used the ferry most of the time. Not as embarrassing.

Better still, is the year I was attaining my Bakers certificate at our university. I had to be there by 5 am. No ferry leaves here until 7 am so, of course I fearlessly donned my cruiser suit (a floatation suit) and goggles when there was frozen rain, and off I went on my “inner tube” into the January blackness. Of course.

Never, I say, never underestimate a stubborn woman.

Tugs out in the bay moving log booms must’ve shaken their heads. They would train their big lights on this little dot zipping by them as I waved my flashlight to alert them of my presence. A WTF moment for them I’m sure.

The kicker in this bit of insanity was that we sold our 16 foot fiberglass powerboat with its 70H to buy said inner tube and a 6H motor. Oh yeah, you see, we had bought a sailboat the year before and we needed a Tender or dinghy for it, and because the shouts of reason and common sense were entirely ignored, we gave up a perfectly great commuter with its trailer I will add, to scoot about on a piece of rubber. Sure- a tender for the sailboat and can be our commuter boat for a family of four. One boat, two applications.

A no brainer. Well, we got that right.

We then went on to a succession of open aluminum, popped riveted boats that required a half hour of hand bailing before setting out. Scoop, sploosh, scoop, sploosh. Repetitive moves that caused rhymes in my head, (scoop) got water (sploosh) in my boat (scoop) gotta bail (sploosh) if I wanna float.

Glory days my friend, glory days. But I was (we) were younger then.

Now, as of two years ago, we have our 16 foot aluminum with a canopy. Because I made it unequivocally clear to Bob that I would now tolerate no less. On one of our final runs in our last open boat before bringing our newly purchased boat home a huge swell reared and landed square in our laps, like a final ribbing from the sea, ha-HA, take that ya scurvy dogs, one last time will ye be victims of me soakin’!  To which Bob exclaimed,” AH, wet down to the ass!”

Which subsequently prompted the christening of the new boat, Nowetass.

So next week she’s scheduled to go in to have the hydraulics and the electrical issues dealt with and we’ll be back in business. In the meantime we must putt across at a snails pace and take the weather as it comes, but with the knowing that again soon we’ll be taking whatever the sea throws at us in dry stride and 10 times the speed.

Arrrr !

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prairie Sky

Pining for a road trip, I came across a few photos.

Amazing storms we witnessed when driving to and from Ontario a few summers back. One of the things I find absolutely exhilarating about the Prairies is the sky – whether it’s endless, blue and open or robust, dark and brooding like these shots capture. Every day that particular summer was a storm watch day. Not to mention constant tornado worries as the radio and the TV weather channels we were glued to each night in our hotel room seemed to warn of just as we would be leaving an area or driving into an area.

You can see them come from miles. I was in a constant state of open-mouthed awe and terror. I was like a kid, “lookit that!”  and ” Oh man it’s massive!”  to  “Shit that was lightning RIGHT THERE!” and “Is that a funnel cloud starting?!”  It was fun.

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My Header Photo

My mom, sister and her husband and I were staying in Lethbridge for a week the summer of 2012- my mom was having a reunion with friends from her youth that still lived in the Cardston area-and my daughter, living in Calgary, drove down and joined us.

Later in the afternoon my girl had taken a short drive out into the nearby fields with her Chihuahua Dexter to let him exercise and she thought she’d take few a photos.  Meanwhile back at the ‘ranch’ the rest of us watched this amazing ominous cloud creep in and saw the tall poplar trees that lined the street nearly bend in half from the sudden gusts of wind. Then the lightening flashes, then driving hail.

I’m standing on the doorway panicking “Where is she?!” I’m waiting to see her car come up the road for what seemed too long, then finally she comes and we rush into the condo.

She was exhilarated even as I fretted over questions of  What were you doing? Didn’t you see what was coming? She said she ‘had to stay get these photos – it was so incredible’, then she showed us the images she captured on her digital-

 

and well yes, I then completely understood and was proud of her ferocity and daring. Atta girl.cropped-img_1122.jpg