Tuesday August 18, 2009 - A Change of Scenery

Beausoleil Island to Indian Harbour

We left Fryingpan bay under threatening skies, and ready for rain. It never came, so we count ourselves lucky. As the day wore on, the sun grew in intensity, and we took up our usual positions. Chuck on the bow, Cutie in the cockpit with Buddy on her lap – port side, and I driving on the starboard side, further back in the cockpit.

It was a short hop from Fryingpan Bay to Indian Harbour, only about 2-1/2 hours. That is good since it means the kids aren’t stuck sitting all day. We know we are taking the most leisurely pace ever to do this trip, and we are content with that. We cruised into Indian Harbour just in time for lunch, and dropped the anchor. The only other boat in the harbour was a sailboat that was just in the process of heading out.

I took our dinghy (aka “the Barbie Dream Boat”) over to them to say hi, and ask about holding and whatnot. With this being our second night at anchor, I was still a little nervous. It turned out they were having trouble with their outboard on their dinghy.

The engine was an Evinrude 9.9. I have had to swear at mine once or twice, and their problems sounded very familiar. I suggested an easy fix. They looked at me sceptically, but tried it. The engine roared to life, and they said thanks, mystified that it could be fixed so easily. I assured them that I had no idea why turning the flywheel a couple degrees works either, but that I had done the same thing more than once to get mine started. They left and we were alone in the anchorage.

Taking the Barbie Dream Boat back to Iris, I was pondering my luck. Fryingpan was supposed be packed, and we had gotten a dock, and had a nice time. This harbour was supposed to be even busier, and here we were alone. A half an hour later, one powerboat was way over on the other side of the anchorage. I could handle sharing the space with one boat. I lay down to take a nap.

It’s hard to say how long I slept before Cutie shook me awake. She was worried about another boat that had come into the anchorage. I came up on deck, and we were up to 3 boats anchored, and this one setting his hook. Cutie told me that he had tried to anchor multiple times unsuccessfully, and now was over here trying again. At best he was 30 feet from us.

His boat was a 42 foot fly bridge, very shiny and new, with a designer wife out front and 2 kids in designer clothes on the back deck. On the back he had a RIB for a dinghy that was worth more than our boat. Hereafter he will be referred to as Pompous Prick – PP for short.

I pointed out to him that he was awful close to us, and that he may want to allow more swing room for his boat since sail boats move differently than power cruisers. PP said not to worry he’d set an anchor watch, and we wouldn’t have to worry. Then he went inside and turned on his AC and generator, leaving us to listen to the noises created so he could enjoy nature from the bowels of a boat as big as our house.

We settled in, keeping a wary eye on PP’s boat, and had dinner. Then he came over in his dinghy and invited us to go watch the sunset with him. Taking the olive branch, we scrambled into our life jackets, and rode out to see the sun go down. On the way we were delighted to hear about PP’s cars, house, boat, private schools for his kids, how his wife would never have to work, and how to choose only the best tenants for his various rental properties. PP had much to be pompous about. When we got back to the boat, he took us aboard his boat so we could see first-hand what a cruising boat looked like. It looked like a lot of leather and chrome. Cutie and I both agree that we would rather be in our little boat and in touch with our surroundings than in the floating house PP showed us. To his credit, PP passed on the laundry room, in favour of a third stateroom, since he wanted to be roughing it. He did have 2 fridges though since having to go below to get a beer was too inconvenient, and his stereo was “exquisite.”

When we left PP announced that he was going to set out a second anchor for peace of mind. I pointed out that this would totally change his swing pattern and that we would run the risk of hitting each other in the night. PP said he wasn’t worried about that. I decided I wasn’t either. His boat was worth a million and a half (by his figuring), mine is worth $10,000. He had more to lose than I did. I slept well.

The whole time we were in Indian Harbour, there was traffic through the harbour. Since the anchorage is just off a main channel, the parade of boats provides wake to shake everyone up on an unscheduled interval. This makes life aboard interesting. What was even more interesting was the boat that decided to anchor in the channel, and then yell at everyone passing by that they were making too much wake. Chuck learned some new uses of new words. The guys at anchor would yell at the cruisers, who would yell back that they were in the channel, then the guys at anchor would start swearing, and the cruisers would swear back.

Indian Harbour didn’t get a second night. Before we were in bed we decided we’d leave in the morning.