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stores, purchasing food a little at a time up until we left. Of course, we had tide and current charts to get, along with tools to take, just in case. We had totally gone through Fantasy’s interior this last fall, replacing all the cushions and redesigning the forepeak layout to make her better suited to an extended cruise, because, deep down, we had an idea as to what was coming. As our departure date neared we


knew, preparation-wise, the boat was ready to go. The only question was, were we? The end of May, 2010, saw us once again on the road heading toward the “Big Water”. Right from the start the weather


began to test us. No sooner had Fantasy’s keel been in the water at Oak Harbor on Whidbey Island, than the rain began. To be fair it didn’t rain every day in the first five weeks, no it rained for only four of the weeks. Besides being rainy and gray it was


cool — okay, it was cold! The first day to top 65° was the 7th of July and we’d put in on May 27th. Over the winter I had made up a couple of fleece throws which were used every day throughout the entire cruise. Maybe, just maybe, we


might have seen a few warmer days. Yes there was a spell of sun in mid-August that was oh so nice, but 2010 will go down as the year without a summer, or maybe two weeks of summer at most. Dues, I guess, had to be paid, but when the sun did come out, it was glorious. We had just finished a spinnaker


run up Lewis Channel in Desolation Sound, British Columbia, on a rare, beautiful sun-filled day, when I looked aft. There, several miles away, were the white sails of another boat and behind was a mountain standing out of the sea. Nice scene, but as I now had a beat to weather ahead of me I filed the mental picture away, raised the jib and started the windward leg of the day’s journey. That evening, while anchored in the tranquil waters of Rebecca Spit, I decided to see just what mountain lay beyond that distant sail and, though it looked somewhat tall, I was curious just how tall was it. My jaw dropped as I looked at the chart, no wonder the distant boat looked small, the mountain beyond was nearly one mile high, rising nearly vertically from the surrounding waters. Looking more closely, I saw the water’s depth no more than a few


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hundred yards off this peak, was 280, and the chart was in fathoms! That made the water almost 1,700 feet deep. I spent the rest of that evening feeling small, very, very small. On some days the rain and low


marine clouds added a mystic to the beauty of the area. We had spent a couple of lay days in Thunder Bay, B.C. recovering from a 14-hour stint on the tiller and a particularly hard fought battle to windward up Malispina Strait. We had decided that morning to sail to the Harmony Islands in Hotham Sound but the wind decided for us and in the end we motored most of the way. On this early morning the clouds hung low obscuring the tops of the surrounding mountains and hills. Passing beneath the huge overhead electrical wires that stretched across Jervis Inlet, I looked skyward. The cables were coming out of the mist on one side, completing their downward ark, to enter the mist again on the other side. Nothing was there to support their weight, only the ever present gray clouds which held the cable ends so tightly they would not fall as we passed below. It was then I looked to the northeast.


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