It rained hard for three days. Tucked into the municipal dock at Port Mc Neill on north Vancouver Island, David was once again in the bottom of the cockpit locker twisted into a pretzel. He had to disconnect and pull out our four 60-pound house batteries and install four new ones. C.A.B. Industrial Automotive (owned by North Island Marina) in Port McNeill was wonderful—ordering the batteries we needed and getting them here within two days. They also took delivery for us of the gas outboard we purchased from a dealer in Port Hardy. Everyone was so helpful.

Port McNeill is a small logging and fishing community of about 2,500 people. Everything we needed was a short walk from the docks. The highlight of our stay was meeting Leonard and Lorena Landon, long-time editors of Waggoner Cruising Guide—an essential reference for these waters that we consult many times daily. Now in their late 70s, they’ve been with the guide for 10-plus years and are retiring this year. We had a lovely time on their beautiful DeFever motoryacht talking and laughing about the challenges navigating retirement, having multiple third acts, and the struggling and changing publishing business. They will be heading down the West Coast of Vancouver Island in a few weeks. We hope to see them again.

By yesterday afternoon the rain had eased, and with our battery problems resolved we were anxious to get back to cruising. After shopping for provisions, we cast off at about 1 PM to head for Sointula on Malcolm Island, just six miles away. A stiff south-east breeze was blowing, which made for a damp and cold six miles that ended with a challenging, parallel parking job at the dock. With the wind, a tight space and no one to help us land, David, age 72, had to leap from the bow to the dock. He never ceases to amaze me. We were here, and we were exhausted.

Sointula means “place of harmony,” in Finnish. It was settled by Finnish immigrants as “a utopian cooperative” at the turn of the 20^th century. The utopia community project didn’t last, but the local gillnetters had a good run mid-century. Some fishing remains, but it’s a shadow of what it once was. Regardless, the people who live here are bound to the sea and you can see it in their grizzled faces and working-man hands. We met fifth generation decedents of the original Finnish settlers—all proud of their connection to this place.

Today the clouds thinned, and the sun broke through now and again. We needed to stretch our legs and walked to Bere Point on the other side of the Island. It was six-miles roundtrip along a county lane, through clearcut woods, dense forest, and along a rocky beach. Orcas come to Bere Point to rub themselves on the beach of small smooth rocks. There were no Orca there today, but I’d swear I could see the impressions left by their large bodies in the beach.

Later, we borrowed bikes and rode to the small village for some lunch, to wander their interesting museum, and explore. Such fun! It was an active and wonderful day.