Photo: Fisherman mending net.

“This is why we go sailing,” said Steve, gesturing at the rippled water and the sunshine, then adjusting the sails. We were in Queen Charlotte Strait, sailing from Waddington Cove in the Broughton Islands to Sointula on Malcolm Island. After three days of shrieking winds that managed to penetrate even the best foul weather gear, we finally felt warm and were having a good sail.

We arrived at the Sointula Marina at 3:00 pm, tied up the boat, then walked the 2 km into town. It felt good to be on land again. In town, we found the store closed but the pub, the bakery and the restaurant were all doing a booming business. It was Victoria Day and a few tourists still lingered before taking the ferry back to Vancouver Island.

We stopped at the bakery and drank coffee and ate cookies on a sunny balcony overlooking the water. Then we walked on to Graveyard Point where we wandered through the graveyard. The Finnish origin of much of the town was evident on the tombstones, as was the seagoing nature of their lives. “Lost at sea” read one tombstone. Another consisted of an anchor buried in concrete and still another was topped with a miniature lighthouse.

Walking back we stopped to watch some birds on a vacant lot. We were trying to identify them when a woman walked by. They’re killdeers,” she told us. “They return every year to this same lot.” We talked some more and she told us she was once a halibut fisherman. “I loved being out there, it was beautiful. But for the last 20 years I’ve been a teacher.”

We continued on and were almost back to the marina when we noticed a fisherman mending nets by the side of the road. He had his back to us so at first didn’t see us as we stopped to watch. When he finally turned, he jumped, then laughed.

“Have you started fishing yet?” Steve asked him.
“No, They haven’t told us when we’ll start.” He then gave us a dissertation on the (poor) state of BC fisheries. “We’ve ruined our rivers with logging and now the fish in the Fraser have a virus from farmed fish. Alaska’s the last salmon stronghold.”

Steve asked him about Alexandra Morton, who was researching the affects of the fish farms. The fisherman perked up. She lived right down the road, the fisherman told us we should buy a T-shirt from her to support her cause.

No one answered her door, but we made a note of the address. Next time, we’d stop again.

As we walked back to the boat, I reflected, that this too was why we go sailing: to enjoy different places and meet the people.