I am typing this from the Whalesback Channel, John Island Harbour, North Channel of Lake Huron, Canadian waters. This area is a remote, mostly protected little harbour, so the Canadians spell it. What had been three boats, after we anchored at about 1:00 p.m., EST, has grown to seven and the last boat to anchor has totally missed the concept of 'as far apart as possible', which is why my posting today includes the words 'sort of'.
I just returned to the boat from fishing in our little dinghy with Capt. SO. We remarked several times about how really quite it is here. The only sounds are that of birds, water lapping, an occasional fish jumping and wind whistling through the trees on shore. We find ourselves speaking in hushed tones when we're out like this, not wanting to disturb nature.
Being in a setting such as this, I find that my mind goes to quieter places than normal. It is as if my zen is easier to locate and takes less time to find.
I have already made a list about what tasks need to be accomplished during the three hours that the generator will be on, 'making electricity' and recharging the one giant house battery and two giant starting batteries. I rationalized that this list was necessary and not too stressful to think about accomplishing.
There is a freedom about being 'on the hook', which is boat-speak for being on anchor, that cannot be found while tied to a dock. Curiously though, the seven boats that are here, in this remote area, will now be a tiny community and we will fight with all our collective might to protect ourselves from dive-bombing seagulls, super-efficiently-swimming bears (yes, those do exist in the North Channel), flying fish, carnivourous black flies and Navy Seals that have veered off course.
If any of those threats present themselves, you'll be the first to read about it.
Ancora imparo
