the battery charger and then absolute silence. “Dark,” John said. His voice nearly echoed. “I will light the candles,” I said


confidently. The matches were soggy and the BBQ lighter low on fuel, but I persevered through our drawer full of incendiary devices until I located a dry match and lit the wicks of the three fat candles sitting on the saloon table. The flames cast a friendly, yellow glow. “The 12-volt and the 110 volts are both out,” said John.


“What does it mean?” I asked. “I don’t know,” John said. His voice


sounded strangled, as if the question had wrenched an answer out of him he didn’t want to give. “I have no idea.” “Is it two separate problems?” I


asked. “Has the 110 power gone out and our 12-volt system died at the same time?” “I couldn’t say,” John replied. He


pulled a flashlight from its Beckson clip on the bulkhead and flicked the light on and began waving the dim beam behind the 12-volt panel. “I can’t see a thing,” he said finally, “Though it does look like the power’s off all over Cowichan Bay. But that doesn’t explain why our 12-volt system isn’t working.” He slid the flashlight back into the Beckson clip.


“So what do we do?” I asked. “I am at a loss,” John said. His


words floated through the air and bounced off the bulkheads. I thought. “We need an electrician,”


I said finally. “We don’t KNOW any electricians,”


John said. “But we know a good car mechanic,” I mused. “What’s THAT got to do with the


price of rice in China?” John asked. He was beginning to sound irritated. “A car mechanic doesn’t know anything about 12-volt electrical systems on a boat.”


“But he might know an electrician,”


I argued. “Who’s he going to socialize with – artists and musicians? Men who know the value of lube grease know other men who wear coveralls, just like quilters have an affinity for crocheters, and every hockey player knows a speed skater. Teachers know scout leaders,” I continued, “and dog-breeders know horse-owners, and engineers know bartenders, or my University education


48° NORTH, APRIL 2011 PAGE 55


A further skill is that of asking for help. There is a surprising percentage of the human population unable to perform this skill – 50 in fact. My friend Endis, from the island of Efate, swore to me that men from Vanuatu don’t ask for directions either.


taught me nothing.” I lifted the flashlight from the bulkhead and by its faint beam dialed the phone number of our car mechanic.


He did know an electrician. “Told you,” I said smugly. Then


the 110 power came back on. A day later, just after the electrician


had reconnected the wire that had fallen off the back of the 12-volt panel, he stood looking at the birds’ nest of wires that tangled their way across the bulkhead opposite the boat engine. “This should really be sorted out,” he said, “but it’ll be a tedious job.” “Stand back,” I said confidently. “I


am a knitter.” 48° N


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