kayakwriter
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On Friday, March 26, we wheeled our boats aboard the 11:00AM ferry from the mainland to Swartz Bay, fortifying ourselves during the voyage with White Spot burgers and fries against the long and arduous paddle that awaited. Or not. As it turned out, the wind bid fair for Portland Island, so I set all three sails on my boat (including a new rear deck sail I'd made over the winter). Mike and I rafted up, and our improvised catamaran whisked us to landfall at Arubutus Point as quickly as if we'd paddled.
For cooking, I experimented with an adaptor that lets me run the burner of my Nova stove inside the windshield of my Trangia cookset. ("Heresy!" those in The Church Of Trangia will cry, but such syncretism is what keeps religions renewed and relevant to human needs.) I was pretty pleased – the cross-pollination provides the high heat output and long burn time of the Nova, together with the wind protection and super-stable cooking platform of the Trangia. So we tamped down our lunch with a huge pasta-and-veggies dinner, a fine port that Mike brought, shortbread cookies, and a selection of fine cheeses.
Saturday dawned cool but rain free. Our leisurely brunch was disturbed only by a visit from a Park Ranger. And by the spectacle of me scampering through the camp, retching and foaming at the mouth, in search of water to rinse with. (Note to self: in future, do not pack the tube of athlete's foot cream in the same pocket of the toiletries kit as the toothpaste.)
That afternoon, we did a languid circumnavigation of Portland, arriving back at camp in plenty of time for snacking, reading, and fending off the forays of Rocky (The Robber) Racoon, who attempted a daring daylight heist from our hatches.
We had a bit of wind on Saturday night as the new front moved in. Plus some rain, but that politely paused while we packed our boats and donned our drysuits on Sunday morning. We did have to paddle rather than sail back to Swartz Bay (The Horror! The Horror!) but the wind was only gently against us, and we enjoyed an otter's antics enroute.
For cooking, I experimented with an adaptor that lets me run the burner of my Nova stove inside the windshield of my Trangia cookset. ("Heresy!" those in The Church Of Trangia will cry, but such syncretism is what keeps religions renewed and relevant to human needs.) I was pretty pleased – the cross-pollination provides the high heat output and long burn time of the Nova, together with the wind protection and super-stable cooking platform of the Trangia. So we tamped down our lunch with a huge pasta-and-veggies dinner, a fine port that Mike brought, shortbread cookies, and a selection of fine cheeses.
Saturday dawned cool but rain free. Our leisurely brunch was disturbed only by a visit from a Park Ranger. And by the spectacle of me scampering through the camp, retching and foaming at the mouth, in search of water to rinse with. (Note to self: in future, do not pack the tube of athlete's foot cream in the same pocket of the toiletries kit as the toothpaste.)
That afternoon, we did a languid circumnavigation of Portland, arriving back at camp in plenty of time for snacking, reading, and fending off the forays of Rocky (The Robber) Racoon, who attempted a daring daylight heist from our hatches.
We had a bit of wind on Saturday night as the new front moved in. Plus some rain, but that politely paused while we packed our boats and donned our drysuits on Sunday morning. We did have to paddle rather than sail back to Swartz Bay (The Horror! The Horror!) but the wind was only gently against us, and we enjoyed an otter's antics enroute.
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