Not such a Good Friday

7am - woke to the sound of bits of tree blowing across the roof. The clock's still going, so the power hasn't gone out - yet.  Listen to wind and rain, check that power is still on and launch the coffee maker. Not a moment too soon; within seconds of delivering 2 mugs of Tim Horton's best, the lights flicker and die. This could be a long day.  Light the stoves. Contemplate the hot tub with no electricity. Maybe not - there are waves on the surface, but it's not quite the same.  The Queen of Alberni is ploughing through much angrier waves out in the Channel. At least the ferries are running.

No power = no water = no shower. Have to stay dirty then. Decide (albeit grudgingly) that work can go on without power tools, so work commences. Slowly. Cousins call by as promised to help move drywall panels upstairs, but they have bad news - their 26ft sailboat broke its mooring lines in the night and is beached on the rocks at Degnen Bay. 

Two tons of folkboat lying on her starboard side - thankfully very limited damage is visible, so plans are made to empty her of everything that's not screwed down and prepare to (hopefully) refloat her at high water.  After a long afternoon, the wind and rain show no sign of abating and all we can do now is wait for the tide and hope. Many kind souls have come down to the rocks to offer advice and assistance - some more realistic than others, but all genuine and well meant. This is Gabriola at its best, in the worst of conditions.

As the waters rise, the heavy hull starts to move and, with the valued assistance of a local boatbuilder providing a tow, she is pulled slowly (and a little painfully) off the rocks. It's evident that she's taking on water - and those of us left on shore can only watch and hope as she's towed slowly out across the bay, riding ever lower in the water. Another boat stands by to take off the crew if necessary - but after what seems an eternity, she is secured to the dock on the far side of the bay, where a heavy duty pump and a temporary repair to the holed hull save the day.

Meanwhile, the bush telegraph reports that the power is back on, at least in the Whalebone area, so the hot tub can prepare itself for the return of a very wet and very cold crew. 

Beyond the bay, there's been major disruption to ferries - with no sailings from Horseshoe Bay and waits of 6 hours or more the order of the day at Tsawwassen. A neighbour finally gets home off the late ferry from Nanaimo, with tales of seas lashing through the upper car deck on the Tsawwassen ferry and taking out a window on the passenger deck. By comparison, the short crossing from Nanaimo on the Bowen Queen must have seemed quite tame.

The 20 minute crossing from Nanaimo to Descanso Bay is comparatively sheltered - and it's rare to experience a truly rough crossing on this route. Both Bowen Queen and the regular boat, the Quinsam, have open car decks and I've often wondered how they would fare in really rough weather. 

One of the oldest vessels in BC Ferries' fleet is the North Island Princess, built in 1958 and still plying the rather less sheltered waters between Powell River and Texada Island. She's smaller than the Bowen Queen, but built to a similar design. This stunning picture (courtesy of the Vancouver Sun) captures the North Island Princess at the peak of the storm mid afternoon on Good Friday. Maybe I'm glad we chose Gabriola!