Jack, our resident civil engineer, discovered the water lease was actually bigger than previously realized. In digging about at the City of Richmond, he found the actual dimensions and so we’ve moved up river another 100 feet or so. This is a good thing as a few of the boats were sitting on the beach on low tide. Here is where we were before. Notice where we are aligned with the “condo-MINIMUMS” across the river from us. (Thanks to this great pic from Jamie and Greg our friends from the MV Katherine Jane).
It all started last Sunday (March 25) afternoon at 5pm. Dumb time to do this to be true, but mostly somewhat dictated by the tides. Now the freshette is running and this also throws off the tide tables.
I thought it was all going quite well actually. I only briefly got irritated with Greig when he kept directing me to put “the thing, on the thing, over on the other thing.” Quickly realizing his lack of clarity, his voice dropped an octave and became infinitely more patient with me. At one point I looked up thinking that it must be about 8pm or so, and I quickly realized my error and it was in fact, 12:05am.
OYI! Somehow I managed to keep going until 2am when I insisted upon quiting for the evening or morning as it actually was. Greig stayed up configuring the docks and tightening up this and that until 5am until he finally crashed. Which is the time when I finally got off to sleep and was up at 7am to go to work. Thank goodness I didn’t have to use my brain much that day.
And here is the shift. Way over to the right now, land mark with those things called “homes” across the river...
On top of it all, we’d been anticipating a visit from Greig’s birth mum Caroline and half sister Leah, as they were coming down to the city from Whitehorse to get sister’s prom dress. I had taken a few vacation days for this but I hadn’t had a chance to “clean houses,” so I didn’t. Ah well, old Tana would have totally freaked out over that. I realize my limitations now and that I can’t be superwoman so I won’t bother trying so much. (Previous on-line jokes notwithstanding).
Fast foward to Wednesday evening (at least I think it was as it is a bit of a blur), Greig pulled up on the Bowie’s anchor and discovered it attached to a big deadhead. It was 11pm and short of starting up the chainsaw and, momentarily considering his lack of mental faculties due to the week’s exhaustion, realized that perhaps it was a chore best left for the morning - chainsaws being all that they are.
Speed up again to a quiet Thursday morning, 9am to be precise. Caroline and I notice how we were well out from shore one moment and then crazy close the next. Tide and freshette had pushed us very close to shore, and the bow of the Bowie was a bit out of the water by the water level along the hull. Literally it was one moment I could see us well out from the tip of Mitchell Island only to turn around and then not be. Out to the skiff Greig bolted and tried to push on the Bowie & Parntership assembly out again. And, if not sitting in the mud, the wee skiffy can do a fine job in pushing things about. He wasn’t going anywhere. I put a call into Phil Ogden and his grunty log salvage boat to see if he could come and help. He was less than an hour away.
The tide was running out quite quickly and I poked on the mud on the starboard side of the Parnership and easily felt bottom. I have three feet of draft or thereabouts. On the portside, it was more like 10’ plus. Phil arrived and began doing a prop wash of the bottom off the Partnership’s bow and we just waited and pulled and tried to reset the anchors and lines. At about 1:30 that afternoon and on the slack tide we were able to push the Bowie off the bottom. At the low tide I can see the hole Phil dug out with his boat now some 20 feet or so away from my starboard side.
Friday morning had me thinking we’d have a repeat of the day before but Greig was out again and managed to re-set the anchor some 300 yards again out into the river. All is holding fast and we’ve been re-assembling the docks. We can now look directly down Mitchell Island road — on the high tide of course.
Sore and exhausted, another week of drama has passed. For the time being we’ve longer hike down the docks but that will change soon. The ramp will move down to the east end of the property.
And now, the wind has kicked up after a sunny and rain free week. The tarps are flapping and I just heard a thunk and see that my chimney cap has finally flown off my stack. Something else to replace. Sigh.
We had a lovely visit with Caroline and Leah. Leah managed to find a very pretty lilac prom dress as well as shoes to match. Unfortunately, Caroline left us in worse shape than when she arrived. She took a tumble on the docks and on first assumption, wrenched her left shoulder. She declined a visit to the clinic to check it out as it the following day it seemed to be on the improve.
Dosha fashioned her a sling from a scarf I had crocheted and that seemed to help too. So upon arrival back home in Whitehorse, she discovered that she had indeed broken her upper arm. It's a clean break and that Dosha was the only one with the where-with all and intelligence to think of a simple sling was truly brilliant. Smart kid she is.
I am so sorry Caroline. I hope you aren’t to afraid to come back. Of all the dumb, stupid luck. May you heal well.