Pender Island - Day Four

We pushed off our mooring buoy at Stuart at 9 for a short motor to Bedwell Harbor on Pender Island, our first stop in Canada, which meant a stop at the customs dock. Going through customs on the boat is a relatively painless procedure. Other than the initial docking, only the skipper can disembark, so I stayed aboard while Trent walked up the ramp to the office. Though there is an officer inside, all business is conducted over the phone. Fortunately, we had learned our lesson in past years and this time did not have any forbidden fruit. The first time we visited, we realized en route that apples were verboten, so each of us had a four apple lunch, thinking that we would otherwise be turned away. We later learned that they have a disposal bin specifically for apples at the top of the ramp.

Excited by our early arrival, we radioed over to Poet's Cove Marina, which is attached to a spa/resort to verify that they had space for us. Yes, there was a slip, but it was only 10:30 and check-out was at 11 with official check-in at 1. If the other boat vacated early, the dock was ours, but they wouldn't kick the other boat out during that two hour grey period. We tied up at the breakwater dock (which is not connected to land) and dinghied in for a coffee/chai break and Boggle at the resort's coffee shop. We could see the mast of the other boat from the picture window of the cafe and repeatedly peered out hopefully. No luck - we were unable to check in even a minute early.

We had only muffins in the morning, thinking we'd have brunch or an early lunch in the afternoon on a bike ride over the island. With the bikes, we were no longer trapped at the resort, which has an overpriced restaurant attached. Trent found a promising looking restaurant on Yelp - the Hope Bay Cafe, which ended lunch service at 3 and then closed until dinner began at 5. It was about an hour bike ride away and we left at about 1:50. Normally, that wouldn't have been a problem, but with only a couple of muffins in the five hours I'd been awake and plenty of hills (I got off my bike twice to walk, which is atypical for me), I bonked, slowing to a snail's pace. We arrived at the restaurant at 2:53, but the kitchen was already closed.

What to do? Go to the Fall Fair, which we'd passed by on the journey, or to another area of town? Too far (or so we thought - later we learned that we'd taken a roundabout way to our destination), so we made the earliest dinner reservation we could (5:30), ate ice cream, examined the boats at the nearby dock and drank local beer and ate roasted nuts (the only food besides dessert they were serving) on the patio and read aloud The Long Way, a memoir by an intense sailor who was on the verge of winning a solo-round-the-world sailing race, when he decided to skip the finish line and keep sailing.

Finally, finally it was 5:30 and dinnertime. We were not disappointed in our dining choice. We split a small plate of lamb meatballs with a yogurt drizzle and tomato-based sauce. Trent chose the Dungeness Crab gnocchi with a butternut romesco, while I had the penne with prawns in a cilantro pesto sauce. I was glad that island living is so casual - most diners were in shorts and t-shirts, so we didn't stand out too much in our sweaty clothes.

The ride home seemed far easier, lacking the sense of desperation I'd felt earlier. On the way to Hope Bay, we had passed an Anglican church with a sign reading "the Anglican Church welcomes you." "Does that mean they'll feed us?," I despaired. Later, the smell of blackberries wafted to me and I considered abandoning the bike to pick berries, but I kept on, knowing that would mean missing our 3 p.m. deadline.

The way home was just as hilly and beautiful (and this time, I could appreciate the beauty). We crossed a one lane bridge over the Pender Canal that is off-limits to Rock Lobster (too short and not a drawbridge). We passed The Enchanted Forest and though the sun was beginning to set, we wandered the interpretive trails a bit before returning to Poet's Cove.

Back at the marina, kids ran excitedly around the docks with nets in hand trying to catch shrimp. One group offered to sell some puny specimens to Trent, who responded that, unfortunately, we'd already eaten dinner.

One of the benefits of staying at a marina at a resort is the use of the hot tub, a benefit that we took advantage of, soaking our poor tired muscles before admiring the stars and retiring for the evening.