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A Fishing Story - 1989 the f/v My Colleen
by C. C. Crow photos by author
Finally the day to depart has arrived. We've moved the boat over
Edmonds for a quick get-away. As soon as Les is done with school we take off. Bye
everyone.
THE ADVENTURE BEGINS
See you guys later
Edmonds fades in the background.
Wonder what the large green dot is?
It's a Trident submarine
You guys want to race?
Deal those cards.
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6-14 WED
Stayed up last night till 2 a.m., packing, cleaning and generally
going nuts. Wake up at 6 a.m., alarm was set for 7. Decisions are
impossible. Packing for a regular motorcycle trip is a lot easier.
I have chores to do, we go out to Los Plumas and have Haverios
Metalinos then go to boat. Bad headache- Captain Les is on his
way. Have to load faring, bags and stuff before they arrive. Off
we go! I'm inside when they cast off and almost miss saying good-
bye. We go up around Whidbey Island, past submarine. After two
hours Les hands her over to me. Ten minutes later the weather
starts to get rough. Past Port Townshend to the San Juan Islands.
Does good cutting into sea but still very poor with following sea.
It's nice inside islands, we stop at Friday Harbor but guest dock
is closed so we go on. Camp at STUARD ISLAND, tired out.
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Canadain Customs - She confiscates our apples so I take her picture
Traffic on the passage
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6-15 THUR
Beautiful morning, cast off at 7 a.m., run on smooth water through
Swanson Channel, first whale alert, Killers. Through Captain's
Passage, eat bacon and eggs & HB, then through Dodd Narrows,
shower before customs at Nanaimo, take picture of customerette as
she confiscates our apples. Gas up at Esso, loose a bumper. Then
have perfect run across Georgia Strait- like glass, sunny. Past
Campbell River, fisherman, the weather starts getting rough.
Seymour Narrows we ride with the tide into the wind, it twists and
turns. We are into Johnstone Strait we buck three plus foot waves,
smoothly around Race Passage, we see Alaska Ferry and three cruise
ships. It's 8 p.m., we're looking at Port Neville but go on to
Havannah Channel, sneaking our way into the calmer back waters. A
guide book put us into Burial Cove for the night. We are all
tired, have a salad for dinner and a drink. Call home is blurred.
Then hit the sack. I dream about anchor line winding out and the
boat drifting, tangling with everything- bad guys and dynamite.
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