Wednesday 15 September we made it to Smuggler Cove N49°30.91' W123°58.06', a BC Marine Park on the Sechelt Peninsula. This is a 'pocket' cove with little room to 'swing' at anchor when there are changes in wind and/or tide. The park has drilled steel rings into the rock wall around the cove so that cruising boats can anchor towards the center of the cove, then back the boat down towards the wall, carry a line from the stern to the wall (and back). Sounds pretty simple, but this was only our second attempt at a stern-tie (and first successful one). We had a small breeze pushing us around a bit, and failed to set the anchor on the first try; between that and just trying to finesse a 75,000 pound boat in a small space made the exercise interesting (but not slapstick, thank goodness). Dorothy and David C, did a great job with the anchor and stern-tie and we spent a quiet night, snug in our place alongside Alpenglow, who was also stern-tied.

In the evening we'll frequently watch a movie from our collection aboard DE. Recently we've been re-watching Man On Fire, which I think is Denzel Washington's best work and the recent Nicole Kiddman / Hugh Jackman film Australia which came out while we were in Hong Kong. We like it, but interestingly our Aussie friend Mac, didn't think much of it.

Thursday 16 September we departed Smuggler Cove and crossed the Strait of Georgia to the Gulf Islands, south of the Vancouver Island town of Nanaimo. We found anchorage outside Montague Harbor N48°53.96' W123°24.58' on Galliano Island. There's a narrow but long-enough-for-a-good-run shell beach there where we gave Rusty a break from the boat. It's funny, years ago when Jim K and brother John (fellow Banzai Bozos) Bob R (biologist extraordinaire), Dorothy, Marcia, Birdy and Sharon first took our kayak adventures up into the San Juan Islands and Barkley Sound, I would look at charts of the Pacific Northwest and see that the Gulf Islands were the logical next step for our kayaking trips. At the time, they seemed so far off and difficult. It turns out that the Gulf Islands are much more built-up than central or north BC coast, not to mention Southeast Alaska. Here we were mid-September, mid-week and there are cruising boats everywhere - from sweet little wooden sailboats to multi-million dollar Nordhavns. Kurt & Marcia on Alpenglow say they had the place to themselves this past spring; hard to believe looking around now.

Friday morning 17 September, Rusty and I dinghied over to Alpenglow and said goodbye to Kurt & Marcia; they've been our boat-buddies since mid-July, good companions and good sports. After a run on the beach, we lifted anchor and headed into Boundary Pass, leaving BC Canada and entering the USA. We landed at the Customs dock at Friday Harbor N48°32.37' W123°0.88' on San Juan Island to clear in. We visited on the dock with Canadians entering the US and Americans returning from Canada. The Canadian cruisers were in a group of refurbished small commercial fishing boats (as well as a larger former seiner); it was great to see these tough, seaworthy boats looking so good (especially after seeing all the fish boats fallen on hard times in ports from Seattle to Dutch Harbor). Eventually the Customs & Border Patrol officers came down to the dock and processed the various cruisers. Our officer was a young woman, clearly seduced by Rusty, who made the experience a pleasure, rather than a bureaucratic nuisance.

We were soon on our way again, down Cattle Passage to McKaye Harbor N48°26.25' W122°52.06' on the south end of Lopez Island. We dinghied into the beach there, where David C. and his family have a vacation cottage back of the beach a ways. We had dinner with David, his son Noah and David's spouse Rachael. In the small world department, Rachael went to an small alternative high school on Timber Ridge Rd (Sonoma County NW coastal range) in the early 70s, just prior to the time Dorothy and I lived on the coast and I was the north coast resident sheriff's deputy. David & Rachael's place on Lopez is very reminiscent of our cottage at Sea Ranch, which we loved, but sold to have our Diesel Duck built. We loved the little place at Sea Ranch, but our pelagic DE is more than equivalent regards living space; and brings us to places, adventures and friends that our sessile cottage never could.

In the McKaye Harbor anchorage, we visited briefly with a couple aboard a well-cared-for 38' steel sailboat. They spent years in the South Seas and are now doing the PNW. The boat is their home and they seem happy with their lives.

Saturday morning 18 September, Rusty and I dinghied back into the beach at McKaye Harbor to pick up David and Noah for the last lap into Seattle. We could barely see DE through the fog from the beach. Once aboard we hoisted the dinghy aboard the swim-step and lifted anchor. At best we had a couple hundred yards visibility as we headed out into the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Thanks to the technology available today, it was reasonable to take DE out into IFR conditions in a busy commercial passage. With the chart plotter showing us our position and route; the long-range radar overlaid on the chart plotter to assure that the "real" data from the radar matched the charted data and the short-range radar to show us any too-close traffic, we could safely make our way through the fog. At the point we reached the VTS commercial shipping lanes heading down the west coast of Whidby Island, we checked in with "Seattle Traffic" before crossing, and continued to check in with them for the next several hours. In these low visibility conditions, our attentiveness is necessarily increased - we add another set of eyes to the helmsman's watch on the radar and plotter screens - but not to the point of any anxiety. We've had great training, operating in heavy traffic around Hong Kong, Macau, Verde Island Passage (PI) and off the approaches to Tokyo. Not so much, some of the folks we could hear (on the radio) floundering around in the fog or the [unkind and unflattering expletive deleted] driving the small run-about (without radar) who crossed our bow at high speed in the fog. At the south end of Whidby Island we broke out into glorious sunlight, with snow-covered mountains of the Olympic Peninsula framing large commercial vessels, cruisers, sails and small boats spread out on a carpet of sun-dappled dark blue waters north of Seattle.

And that was it, two and a half months, 3000 miles, 850 gallons of diesel, 9 friends / family / guests and a load of great memories of BC and SE Alaska.