After two nights in the same place, we were ready to go somewhere else this morning. Following a gorgeous sunrise and some coffee, we pulled up Scoots' anchor and headed across Boundary Pass (so named because it marks the boundary between the US and Canada) to Bedwell Harbour, to check in at Canadian customs.



We had been to Bedwell Harbour once before, in 1987 during our honeymoon adventure. Back then, there was a tiny dock, with no one around...that was it!

Now, Bedwell Harbour boasts an entire SPA! Poet's Cove Spa and Resort, situated just inland of the big new marina, has showers and a pool and a hotel and a restaurant and...well, Bedwell Harbour has apparently come up in the world since we last stopped in.



We anchored Scoots in a little cove away from the marina, to avoid the crowds at the customs dock. Eric and I each ate one of our last two bananas, so we wouldn't have to declare them to the customs agent and have them confiscated. Then Eric headed over to the customs dock in our dinghy, to check us into Canada. Meanwhile, I bagged up the banana skins, which had almost instantaneously attracted some yellow jackets, and did my best to deter the wasps from lingering around our boat. I'd hardly had time to shoo the wasps before Eric was back aboard. The whole checking-in process had taken place over the phone--consisting of a conversation with "a chipper Canadian lady," according to Eric--from a phone booth on the customs dock, in fewer than five minutes.

We pulled up the anchor and headed out, flying our little Canadian courtesy flag below our spreaders, as well as our big US flag on our stern, on our way to Madrona Bay on Saltspring Island. Madrona Bay, according to Marylou, is a quite anchorage away from the bustle and crowds of Ganges Harbour, but close enough to access Ganges town with just a short dinghy ride. It turns out that she was spot-on about that. What she DIDN'T mention was that the route leading to the bay has nasty, pointy rocks and reefs, not so far under the surface, that you must navigate around carefully. Fortunately, our charts and guidebooks indicated this, so we knew what to do and where to go.

We lined everything up, stayed near the north shore of the channel for awhile, then edged toward the south shore for awhile, around Money Maker Reef, and were headed for the anchorage, when suddenly a fleet of dinghy sailboats (Eric says they were 420's), came into view directly in our path. Apparently we'd happened upon a dinghy race. Fortunately, Eric has many sailing dinghy races in his experience, so he was able to take a look at the layout of the marks and and the direction of the fleet and figure out where they might be headed next. He had me turn Scoots around and head back the way we'd come...then turn around again when the fleet had all rounded a particular mark, and head quickly back through the race course while the dinghies were out of the way. I'm glad, once again, that Scoots is so maneuverable.

Madrona Bay is a little cove, enclosed by tall, tree-covered hills, with houses tucked amongst them; steep stairways connect the houses with docks at the shoreline. Already in the anchorage were a salty-looking ketch hailing from the UK, and a little trimaran.



Shortly after we anchored in 23 feet of water, we collected our laundry and our garbage, about $20 in Canadian cash, and took off in the dinghy toward Ganges.

Ganges Harbour is an interesting place. Out in the harbor, boats of all kinds, in all sorts of conditions, are anchored in a haphazard arrangement: there were newer cruising boats; old, rusting fishing boats; even a double-masted pirate ship. Arrrr! Past the mid-harbor anchorage are an assortment of docks and marinas, including a dock for the many float planes that serve the town.

As we entered the docks, we saw a family of swans! Mom and Dad Swan were brilliant white, with their wings fluffed out in a belligerent posture, while the kids--about half a dozen gray, scruffy almost-grown cygnets--trailed along behind in a loose group.



Finding a dinghy dock was our first task, as there was none obvious. After putt-putting around the Ganges Marina, without success, we asked at the office, where the friendly young lady at the desk pointed us to the public dock, took $3 for the privilege of throwing our trash in their bin, and gave us directions to the laundromat in town.

When we arrived at the public dinghy dock, it was packed with dinghies of every kind--kayaks; leaky, hard-hulled tubs, fancy wooden boats, and the usual assortment of inflatables--arrayed around the end of the dock like petals on a daisy. We were easing in between a hard-hulled rowing dinghy and an inflatable (involving my hanging off the bow, reaching forward to push the two dinghies apart to make a space for ours), when Eric noticed that every dinghy was locked to the dock. Every single one. Fortunately, we have a dinghy lock; unfortunately, it was back on Scoots. We'd been lulled into a sense of security, by the fact that none of the dinghies on the dock in Prevost Harbor were locked.

Back through the marina we went, past the swan family, avoiding the arriving float plane, weaving through the haphazard anchorage, back through the gap in the islands to Madrona Bay. We grabbed the lock and headed back through the islands, zigzagging through the haphazard anchorage, skirting around the departing float plane, past the swan family, to the public dinghy dock. When we reached the dinghy dock again, I eased two dinghies apart, and we brought ours in, tied and locked it, grabbed our laundry, and headed for Ganges.

Our directions were to "look for the Ganges Gas station, then turn down one of the roads next to it." We found Ganges Gas, and then the laundromat (it's called Mrs. Clean). After a short tutorial on how to use the washer, from the friendly "wash, dry & fold" lady, we put our laundry in the washer and went in search of food (it was 2:30 by now). We ended up three doors down at a little pub called "The Local." It turned out that they were a "bring your own food" sort of establishment, so we bought a couple bags of chips to accompany our locally- brewed IPAs, which we consumed on a little waterfront patio that overlooked part of the harbor.

When we got back to the laundromat, our washer still had a lot of time (apparently, the lid latch hadn't connected or something), so the "wash, dry & fold" lady showed us how to stick a nickel in the back of the lid to keep it running. Off we went, to find some real food. The real food turned out to be delicious Thai-inspired stir fry from The Saltspring Wok Bar. If you're ever in Ganges, I highly recommend this little place. The friendly young cook talked with us while he cooked our food; he liked the sound of our plans and asked if we might want a noodle cook aboard Scoots with us.



We put our clothes in the dryer and spent some time walking around town. We visited a kitchen wares store and bought some place mats for Scoots, then we put another toonie--or was it a loonie (Canadian money has very odd names)--in the dryer and walked around the park for awhile, then we put some more money in the dryer and sat on a bench for awhile...Eventually, we realized that our clothes were asymptotically approaching dryness, so we pulled them out, stuffed them in their plastic bag, and headed to the Thrifty Market to buy some provisions.

The Thrifty Market is strategically located next to the top of the dinghy dock ramp (they will even deliver your groceries to your boat for you). We bought a few needed items, and some fun ones--like Saltspring cheese, and a chicken-and-vegetable pie--all of which we loaded into our dinghy, along with our almost-dry laundry, and headed back to Scoots.

Back on Scoots, we hung our laundry from every handhold and hook, and set about getting dinner ready. While the chicken-and veggie pie was cooking, we sat in the cockpit and watched the goings-on in Madrona Bay, most of which centered on some seals hauled out on a floating platform about 200 yards away. The seals were fun to watch: there were some mother-baby pairs, and some yearlings, all warming themselves in the sun. At one point, a lone baby seal arrived, who seemed to be having a hard time hoisting itself up onto the platform. After calling plaintively a few times, it tried again and managed to get almost all the way on.

Our chicken-and-veggie pie was really good ("Canadians know how to make meat pies," Eric says). We ate it in the cockpit as the sun went down, then remained there as the day faded into night, listening to night noises in the dark.