Foraging and Hoping We Don’t Die
June 2, 2022
Back at Montague Harbour, we had a couple of days before we needed to make our way back to the City. So we decided to test the dinghy's limits.
We set off with hopes of reaching the Secretary Islands for some oysters. It wasn't a little distance away, about 10 miles. We talked about how much gas it might need, and (someone) thought it would be fine. It wasn't. We got halfway and decided, based on the ever-depleting gauge, that we needed more fuel to make it. So back to Galiano and the fuel dock for gas and snacks.
Sometime later, we made it to the Secretaries with enough of a low tide to pick oysters. I did a quick google and, according to the internet, this area was fine for clams and oysters, and we shouldn't die if we eat them. We also didn't really know what we were looking for, so we just picked what looked like the right kind of oysters. Then we dug random holes and took what looked like suitable clams. What was the worst that could happen, right?
Afterwards, feeling like pretty accomplished foragers, we decided to try our hands at fishing. We heard rumours of rockfish in the area. Stories were all it was. The only thing we caught was the most enormous starfish ever.
Loaded up on potential death clams, we headed back to the boat with a short stop at Wallace Island. Even though it was early season, the anchorage was packed. It made us glad we stuck with our decision to head to Montague, which was still pretty empty.
After a thorough google, we decided on raw oysters and cooked clams for dinner. I was 80% confident we'd be okay. If not, we'd have about six to eight hours before we knew if we'd made a horrible mistake.
Turns out that having an oyster-shucking knife would have come in handy. Oh well, Mark managed to get them open, and we enjoyed what may have been our last meal in the cockpit.
I'd be lying if I said we didn't spend the rest of the night worried we would get sick. We didn't. It was fine.
The next couple of days were uneventful compared to oyster palooza.
NM Sailed: 37
June 4, 2022
It was time to head back to the City.
We picked up the anchor and headed out. Again, the forecasts were wrong, and we had zero wind but lots of leftover waves. Whatever notion of sailing we had quickly went out the window while we bobbed in the Georgia Strait. We gave up and headed to Keats, hoping we would get some wind the next day for a sail home.
Whatever happened in the Straight followed us right into Keats, and we rolled on anchor all night long. All. Night. Long. To the point, we almost left at 4 am just to stop the rolling.
By morning we were pretty miserable and wanted to go back to the marina, whether there was any wind. To our surprise, there was enough wind to get the sails up, and we cruised home with plans to never return to Keats.
NM Sailed: 23