Winter had been rather mild. Only a few days of frost and snow when at “Commodore’s Boats” shipyard, on the Fraser river. Hopefully Bo, the manager, only works on wooden boats and we were not in lack of wood for the stove ! Just the time to replace some planking, to make a new paint, and some and many other works…. and we are back to our tramping life, from anchorage to anchorage. We go back to the indian culture in Vancouver museums, meet again our friend Ronan who settle himself on Protection Island, just two paddle strokes from Nanaimo by kayak, chat with Tim the street poet and his dog Doggy, and, gently, spring come back : the birds bustle about , the flowers reappear on Newcastle island and at Silva Bay, on Gabriola, fishermen, Steller lions and eagles stuff themselves with herring. It’s also on Gabriola that we discover the petroplyphs, testimony of a civilisation who, 150 years ago, was florishing.
Meanwhile the world is collapsing : killings, beheadings, murders, kidnappings, bombings, enslavings…always for a good reason, as if we had learned nothing from the past. It’s difficult to look for future with optimism….
In a few days we will sail again, Alaska is waiting for us, we need the purity of elements and nature.

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Dick passed away.

He was 14. As a real sailor he went away in a stormy day, leaving us orphans. He had been with us everywhere in the world, from Tunisia to Norway, thru England, Ireland, Orkneys, Shetland, from Maroco to Africa, crossing the Atlantic, the Pacific….sharing our life, day and night, at sea, at anchor or in the port. In ten years  he will sail more than 46 000 nautical miles, never afraid, always waiting for dolfins, agreing with our tramping life. He has always been the star, in the arms of the guinean childs as in the ones of the cunas women. As Fancesca Ivaldi , who took very well care of him in Grenada said : “ though he was small, he filled everyone’s heart”
We will miss him terribly, with him it’s a quarter of the crew who disapears.

We have buried his ashes in indian territory, beneath a small pine, the deers and all the other dwellers of the forest will be his companions.

Bye Dick

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After Vancouver we make a small trip in the Fraser river to see the yard were we will go for our winter works, and we start our rounding of Vancouver island. Discovery passage, Desolation Sound, Johnstone Strait, Squirrel Cove, Octopus Islands, Alert Bay, Columbia Cove, Nuchatlitz, Hot springs Cove, Ucluelet…all these places are full of history, a maze of islands, fjords, rapids where the currents can be violent, up to 15 knots, all these anchorages we discover, making slowly our way up to the North, with its rains and fogs. The fauna differ : the sea birds are different, loons, auklets, murres, tufted puffins, the sea otters savour their crab while crawling, the whales are here too. The black bears stay on the the beaches, turning the stones in search of food. We will meet some ashore also, a little too close…We will not see the wolfes, nor the grizzli of Port Harvey, but he will impeach us to hike too far.
Alert bay, in the North, cultural center of the First Nations. The museum is extraordinary, we really enter in the indian culture, and the totems in the village are not only for the show : when they are not the pride of the band they stand in the graveyards, ultimate tribute to the deads.
The west coast is more beautiful, more wild and our meetings more scarce, but more special : so with Bob, in Nuchatlitz, who established here more than 40 years ago, who made all by his own hands : his house, his work shops, the oyster farm, his boat and all this at hours by sea from the first village. He will offer us vegetables from his garden to welcome us, and in the evening the neighbours will invite us for a memorable dinner, with a salmon fished and barbecuded by Bob…At the Hot springs we will take the bath of the year, we could feel in a hammam !
Ucluelet, our last call before Victoria were we took shelter from the first big storm of the season and where we could admire the millenars red cedars on the “Wild Pacific Trail”. The canadian geese flights follow each other, filling our nights with their calls, they migrate southward. Autumn is here, it’s time to come back.

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Summer in Vancouver had been rich : rich in reunions, in joy and feelings. Manon and Enzo, the oldest of our grand childs, discover at their turn British Columbia, and meet us again, after 3 years of parting ! Despite of the time it was as if we had left them a few days ago. They have their marks on Skoiern, and in the evenings, when we come back from our walks we play relentness card games, it’s difficult to get old like this ! It’s the discovery of Vancouver, Stanley Park and his aquarium, his totems, Canada Place, the Gastown steam clock, Granville island, False Creek anchorage with his floating houses, just in the city center…It’s the discovery of Nanaimo and Newcastle island, the indian reserve, and the meeting of owls, Canada geese, racoons, deers, otters, eagles, herons, seals… A trip in waterplane, with the fly over our boat…Reunion also with our swedish friend Pele, here in Vancouver for a meeting ( the sailors always meet themselves, every where in the world ! ). The indian totems are now part of our world, an eagle watch over our lounge, joining our tiki from Fatu Hiva.
The kids have gone, they will come back in Brazil to see Rio de Janeiro, we made the promise, and we hope they will succeed in persuasing their brother and sister to come with them.

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