As we while away the hours here in CRBC (as the cool people
call it…well, us at any rate), it has become fairly obvious that a change of
plans is in order. We are already a week behind the group travelling up to
Alaska and we most likely have another week to look forward to in this garden
spot, so we have opted not to go to Alaska. And truth be told, we’re not that
upset by it. We’ve all been to Alaska, albeit on cruise ships and, in the
Captain’s case, aboard commercial fishing vessels. We’ve snapped the photos, taken
the whale tour (apparently you DO have to buy a ticket!), and bought the souvenirs
(best damn beer bottle opener ever!). But we have grander schemes—Alaska and the
Inside Passage were meant to be our shakedown cruise (although we were hoping
for a 5.5 as opposed to a 9 on the Richter Scale)—and now we are free to pursue
them. If we can ever get out of CRBC.
Those that know us (there you go, rolling your eyes again),
know that our dreams lie beyond the Pacific Northwest. We want to head down
south to San Diego then hook a left and keep on going. We want to experience the
open ocean—vast expanses of blue water and bluer sky—and explore places that
are so far removed from what we know that it will make our former lives seem
unreal. We want to have adventures. And we need to do it while we’re still
(fairly) young and naïve, lest fear hold us back. The Captain likes to say, “Life
begins where the land ends.” In other words, sometimes you have to lose sight
of who you were to become who you know you really are. Wait, what? Ooh. That’s
deep! But it does come down to this: life is inherently full of risks and every
day you don’t step off the curb and get hit by a bus is another opportunity to
have an adventure. The bigger the adventure, the bigger the risk. Sometimes the
risk pays off, sometimes it doesn’t, and sometimes you get stuck in Campbell
River for two weeks, but either way you’ll have a really interesting story to
tell at cocktail parties.
But I digress. Now that Alaska is off the table, the tentative
plan once we get out of here is to mess around in Desolation Sound, explore
some of the islands, head back down to the San Juans, continue to not see any
orcas, and gradually make our way back to Everett. Once there, we will do a
haul out and take care of the last few items on the maintenance list and if
everything is shipshape (finally got to use that old cliché!) we will make our
way out toward the coast before the legendary fog sets in around the end of September.
Until then, however, life in CRBC plods on. The brightwork
is underway, we await shipment of our manifold, and Basic French Lesson 3 has
been completed (although we all agreed that lessons should be held before
lunch, as it’s hard to parle un peu Français when you’re in a food coma.) That
being said, we did have an unexpected event. During breakfast, the Deck Boss
suddenly exclaimed, “It’s gone!” I told her she had nothing to worry about as
there was more bacon in the freezer, but she was in fact talking about her
filling. At least it started out as a filling, then it turned into a cap—no, a
crown. Yes, a crown. Wait a minute. Never had a crown on that tooth. Tooth! The
tooth is gone! Well, half the tooth at any rate. Whatever it was, it was gone. Time
to find a dentist. Much like their American counterparts, Canadian dentists
have an aversion to working on Fridays, but after a few calls we found one that
could not only squeeze her in but was within walking distance.
Now, the term “walking distance” has always been a source of
contention among the crew. If the “walking distance” is 15 minutes, the Captain
will get out his stopwatch and aim to take five minutes off that time. I’ll
generally tack on a couple minutes only because I’m easily distracted (is that
an orca?). The Deck Boss will take that 15 minutes, multiply it by 2, add 17, subtract
it from her age, then add an “ish” to the end. On particularly hot days, “ish”
can add a full half hour to the journey.
But she’s a trooper and walk to the dentist we did (and under
a particularly hot 85 degree sun I might add) where they fixed her up nicely
and gave her a “temporary” cap that she could wear until she could get a proper
crown. (I put “temporary” in parenthesis because the dentist informed her that
the cap would be good for approximately 2-3 years. Would it be that all things were
that “temporary”?)
So what happened to the tooth? Well, let’s just say the
bacon was mighty crunchy that morning.
Editor’s Note: We'd like
to send a shout out and a big “thank you” to Dr. Fran and her staff. If you’re
ever in Campbell River and find yourself in need of a dentist, they’re awesome!
Remember all the 'Brightwork' on the Nordic Prince? Maybe you can rent a few hands from them...lol. Love the Blog. Keep Safe. Nancy
ReplyDeleteNot sure if this will post......trying.
ReplyDeleteJan, you are a trooper.