Photo: A crew of sorts...

Sometime way back, just a few short years after the war, Bernie Fiedler met his future lifelong friend Ronnie Weise in war-ravaged Berlin. Ronnie, an Arnold Schwarzenegger's lookalike, liked Bernie's sister a lot and needless to say, Bernie was not overly amused. Three years later the pair met again after each of them made their own tortious route leading to Canada.

Freedom in the west worked exceedingly well for the pair of them; Bernie creating the first string of coffee shops in Toronto and Ronnie, well he was so handsome he just had a good time following his dear friend Bernie around and making himself well known. In fact he became a successful engineer. Bernie Fiedler himself went from strength to strength, moving from coffee to music and became Canada's foremost musicians' agent and promoter of concerts as well as working with seriously well known artists such as Gordon Lightfoot, Joni Mitchell and other internationally renowned artists. Bernie is understandably proud to name drop some of the greatest musicians known.

You may ask why I'm telling you all of this? Well, I came across these fine pair of delinquents when Bernie approached me speculatively in Vancouver having them both spied me from their hotel restaurant whilst I repaired Sänna's anchor windlass. It seems Bernie said to Ronnie, "He looks like a nice sort of guy, I bet he'll take us out sailing for a week or two...." and so Bernie stopped me as I came out of the marina dock where we'd managed to secure a berth by private arrangement, an amazing location right in the centre of Vancouver right beside Stanley Park. I hung around there for an amazing five weeks whilst Marie was in the UK... and fate decided that I should meet Bernie and Ronnie who were on vacation celebrating Ronnie's eightieth birthday in Vancouver.

Of course, I refused Bernie's offer, explaining that we were a British vessel and couldn't do charters or anything like that... it would contravene just about every Canadian regulation going and, well, I had other things to do. But Bernie, I soon learned, never made it all the way from Berlin by being the shy and retiring type, I agreed to take them out for free just for an afternoon of sailing, to spend time in the glorious sunshine nosing around the bays of Vancouver. We agreed for Wednesday and this was to be Bernie's good friend Ronnie's birthday treat... and, as luck would have it, it turned out Ronnie was an avid and experienced sailor too. Come Wednesday, at the agreed time, they both arrived at the marina gate - complete with their exceedingly large suitcases and everything they'd travelled with to Vancouver. At this point I realised why Bernie became the most successful music promoter in Canada; the old war-torn city of Berlin was never going to be big enough for this guy. I grinned, I liked the man and it seemed I was in for another interesting adventure.

"Just a couple of days would be good," Bernie said to me in the same persuasive style that made musicians into mega-stars.... and, well, the deal turned out to be much longer than two days. That same afternoon we made our way to Plumpar Cove on Keats Island to drop anchor for lunch and I quickly realised that eighty year old Ronnie was no slouch when it came to handling a sailing boat. He was magnificent, we sailed to Vancouver Island with this endearing pensioner loving every minute of the glorious sailing, involving himself in everything I could throw at him. His thick German accent, charm and easy personality made this guy a gem to have onboard; we became good friends. Bernie, he kept things rolling along in entertaining style. I liked him a lot... I listened to his remarkable tales of life in the fast lane, about his friendships with stars like Bob Dylan, Paul Simon, Mick Jagger and the Stones... the list went on and I believed every word. Ronnie, well he just smiled and laughed, talking about the girls and the parties and other stu ff too. I was having a remarkable time.

"Listen," said Bernie. "Could we anchor down in False Creek this evening instead of going back in to the marina? I've arranged for my daughter Susan to join us onboard." Exasperated, I calmly agreed. False Creek is an amazing anchorage right in downtown Vancouver and Susan, it turned out, was not his real daughter but that story is far too complicated to tell. Gorgeous and magnetic, I was more than happy that Susan came along and I didn't even complain that much when Bernie's son Arthur joined us too. And when I found out that Arthur's job with the Canucks ice hockey and Vancouver Whitecaps football teams would secure Marie and I tickets then, well, what could I say?

"Listen," Bernie asked in his normal persuasive style, "Susan's best friend lives on a very nice island close by, she's said to tie your boat there on their pontoon and she says we can stay over a while." And that's how I came to have a marvellous time with Keeley and her next door neighbourly friends living on Gambier Island not a stones throw from Vancouver, and how I met Keeley's neighbour Cathy... I worked hard explaining I was married, that my good wife and round-the-world sailing companion was not too far away... and that Marie has an amazing knack of knowing when I'm enjoying myself. The evenings outdoors were warm and relaxed; we drank copious amounts of Granville Island beer with other familiar odours drifting in the nighttime air. By Sunday morning, when it was time to loosen our mooring lines and leave, my crew had somehow grown disproportionately, with Keeley and Cathy having now signed on... but with Ronnie's eager help I was easily able to cope - even though I didn't have enough lifejackets to go around. I kept a wary eye out for any Canadian coastguard cutters who might intervene and ruin things.

Sadly, the two ageing delinquents, my new good friends, left when Bernie suddenly announced their flight to Toronto was the next morning, a week after he said it would be. I was sorry to see them leave. We agreed we'd get together next year to do the same again but you know how these things go. We ourselves will have moved on, north or south to someplace new and they'll be living their lives in Toronto or somewhere as they usually do. But for me, my lasting memory will be of my special friend, an eighty year old Arnold Schwarzenegger lookalike with a thick Berlin accent who's amazing tales of 'Da girls' will forever keep me entertained
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