When I called Mom and Sydney yesterday, we thought we'd be spending another night at the dock in Nanaimo. However, John was successful in making the repairs to the shut-off switch (thanks to the new solenoid) and generator. All that, and he changed the oil too. So we raced around doing our shopping and getting fuel, then headed out.

We didn't go far since it was late in the afternoon already. We moved to Percy Anchorage, beyond Dodd Narrows and before False Narrows for those of you who may be following along on charts. We dropped anchor near False Narrows, and John set the crab pot. We had a leisurely dinner and quiet evening with no Internet, then John went to bed. I was near the end of my book, so I stayed up awhile longer.

And then the excitement started. I noticed a bright light shining on our boat and poked my head up to see what it was. Spooky is what. Three vertical white lights with a green and a searchlight flashing around, sometimes at us. It was obviously a tug, and given our location, I assumed it had something to do with log booms. It was moving pretty fast and going by close to us. I yelled to John that something was going on and went out to the cockpit while he was pulling some clothes on. As the tug passed, it was clear in the light of our own searchlight that it was actually towing logs. Their searchlight held on me and a voice yelled something I didn't quite catch: something was going to happen soon, and if we didn't move we'd get run over by logs. I didn't ask for details, just started the engine.

While John went to the bow with the searchlight, I ran below and started the instruments, windlass, and blower and turned on the steaming and navigation lights. John raised the anchor and we looked for somewhere to go with John using the searchlight and a flashlight to spot drifting logs. John indicated a log-free heading and went below to see what we'd done wrong. It seems that tugs actually use False Narrows although recreational boaters are warned strongly against it by all of our books. What we thought was a dead-end was a commercial traffic channel, especially at high tide, which was coming up.
We moved out of the channel but stayed in Percy Anchorage.

John fired up the single-side band (SSB) radio to send our position report, and I watched the tug and others in the distance moving around the log booms we had passed on our way from Nanaimo. After awhile, I thought I saw the tug moving very, very slowly back toward us. It was so slow, that I wasn't sure there was movement while I stared at it, and I had to look away and then back to compare its position to landmarks in the background. John had the radar going by that time, and he showed that it was moving toward as at 0.2 knots, reminding me of our own attempt to move up the Fraser River before the flood tide.

That little tug had a tow almost half a mile long. I was fascinated — and a little nervous — as I watched it approach. This time their searchlight didn't come anywhere close to us. As we had lights on the cabin, as well as our anchor light, I was sure they could see us and took the fact that they didn't illuminate us as a sign that we were far enough out of their way. When Solstice swung closer to shore, I relaxed a bit, but John and I both stayed up to watch the end of the boom pass us.

Today it's raining and there's a storm that's supposed to pass through tonight. We're staying put since there's really nowhere to go except back to Nanaimo. Tomorrow if the weather permits, we'll head back across the Strait of Georgia to Pender Harbour and continue our trip to Princess Louisa Inlet. John's planning to bake ginger snaps after lunch. I suspect that the crab pot will stay where it is until morning. John spotted it, and it didn't get run over last night either.