Friday August 14th
We slept in. The fog and rain was not giving us the impression of morning coming, that's our excuse. Fog and more fog. Through the mist we saw the two traveling power boats come in from Francois, to do a turn around and photograph the pretty waterfalls. Suzanne gave us a little dance on the deck of Alizann, waving a show-girl goodbye as they disappeared into the mist. Dave got the motor fixed and we took kato over to a little stream at the end of the bay, stopping by the sailboats for a hello. A woman was doing some repair work on the bigger one and told us that the rest of the party had gone off for a hike. They are from Maine, and this is her first summer as a live-aboard. She is loving it, but they have to return home this year as their barn is falling down and they need to deal with it. We laughed. "So is ours, and we have to figure out what to do when we get back too." It is that time, the barns from a particular era are no longer housing animals, doing their purpose, they begin to fall down. They are meant to be warm in the winter, not left cold and alone. Sigh.

Over at the stream there was no sign of any berries (our search for the elusive bakeapples continues) and it was not the kind of terrain that is easy for a cat, not to mention the black flies, so we came back to Mysti and got ready to head out.

We headed out into the thick fog and seriously rolling waves, the boat keeling a bit back and forth, up and down. About a half an hour later I asked Dave if he had seen Kato.

No, he said, and went below to look for him. He looked up in the bow, in the back, in every known cubby that cat has been in, but no Kato. You know how your mind thinks the worst. Mine did. I was already to turn the boat around and search the shorelines when Dave came up. "He is in the litter box, crouched in the litter box." Good thing we just changed the litter! When he still had not come out twenty minutes later Dave went and got him and brought him up on deck; if he was not feeling well, this was a better option. He chose to go back down and get into bed, so we left him there.

The fog was so thick our visibility was about 50 feet around the boat. We kept the AIS and the radar under full surveillance as we made our way across the coast. This time it was us who tucked into La Hune bay to have a look see at what was said to be a beautiful waterfall. The fog lifted as we went in so we could see the pretty falls, and the two powerboats tucked up behind them. We waved as we turned and left, but did not see anyone aboard.

Back out into the rolling waves and thick fog, around shoals that we could hear but not see, into the narrow opening of Grey River. As I carefully approached where the radar and the charts said the entrance was, some fog lessened and Dave, up on the bow doing lookout, nearly had a fit at the sight of wicked waves crashing against the rocks on either side of us. I swear he turned green for a moment.

This was surely one of the more dramatic entrances we had experienced. I carefully wound our way in, Dave through the headphones, 'go port, no starboard, oh shit there's more rocks there, what's our depth? It was all over in a few minutes and we were in a lovely river, at least we thought it might be.. you could barely make out the very close shores through the fog.

It lifted a bit along the water's edge, the tops of the mountains still shrouded. 'Lifting her skirts to show us her ankles, the flirt' I said to Dave as we wound our way past the little community set in the first cove and headed down river to the Northwest Arm where we anchored in more great beauty, we were sure, behind the fog. Dave wanted to go out in the dingy and find a river to bath in. I was not so sure about that, but gamely went. We passed a few cabins along the way, one with a boat tied where a man came out on the 'bridge to wave hello.

We found a lovely river at the head, with a nice spot for a bath, away from cottage windows, and then the sun came out! Warm and bright, (what a universe), we had a lovely bath and let the warm sun dry us off. Kato on his tether managed to get tangled so many places, but seemed to enjoy his shore leave. We took him for a short walk and then headed back to make supper.

Two young men stopped by in a motor boat curious about our folding dingy and where we were from. One said he lived in Great Briton most of the year, but Grey River was home. Later in the evening I could hear them as they passed by again. "I never seen a folding boat before." "Me neither" their voices continuing on the discussion of the unusual boat as they motored on to their cabin further back out the arm.