Northward Ho (the old meaning of "ho")!

It took us a whole week to get back to civilization. We're in Dawson's Landing now for a repair. More on that later.

Our exit from Port Hardy was accidentially escorted by the Alaska Queen, headed north to fish.

Tucked into Skull Cove our first night and found a little Treasure Island science research camp. The netting at the cook shack made a nice group hammock.Chance enjoyed the signage. Nobody around, but it was fun exploring.

Blain dug up a bushel of six species of clams and cockles in one tiny area. Impressive biodiversity.

Mo found fresh mint and made homemade tortillas, and we made our stomaches happy. Our tortilla press has become invaluable.

The first few days was spent getting around the notorious Cape Caution and into Fitz Hugh Sound. Going from one island of safety to another - avalanche avoidance-style. The seas with swell and chop were 2-4 meters at times, but Oystercatcher bobbed along comfortably and we even sailed a little. Though sailing a rolly beam reach with 2-meter waves is a little hard on the stomach (and dog) we found. Nobody got sick, but they were really long days. We have some video, but no photos to do it justice.

Up into Fury Cove for the beaches and exploration, we waited out a few gales comfortably and we got to stretch out legs and burn trash. From Fury Cove we juked and jibed through the islands and rock-peppered maze finally emerging in the protected nooks of Five Window Bay and some dingy exploration.

Our steering was once again going soft, so we decided to get to the nearest settlement to try to fix it. After lengthy conversations with the manufacturer and parts folks on Skype, we ordered a seal kit from Vancouver to be couriered to the airport for the next flight up. All in all, one little rubber "o" ring likely cost us $181. Oh the life.

Here's Dawson's Landing and Jasper - the welcome dog. Chance and he spent the days avoiding each other, both thinking they were the coolest.

If all goes well on the repair, our next port of call will be Namu, then Shearwater/Bella Bella.

North tomorrow?

Looks like we have a reasonable weather window to give it a go across Queen Charlotte Sound. The dinghy's blown up and we just have to take the tarp down. This is good.

We're a bit sad to leave Pt. Hardy, and our newfound friends Shari Lee and Patrick, but it's time for a new horizon. Patrick was a wealth of knowledge having kayaked most of the Inside Passage, and Shari Lee tantalized us with her adventures in Fiji and those tiny Pacific islands of our dreams. They also introduced us to curried horse mussels for dinner.

Blain threw his air cast in the dumpster and is hobbling around with the help of a ski pole. Mo's got the cupboards so full the boat lists to port. Tanks are full, the flags up. We're ready. If the engine fires up, nothing should keep us.

First stop will likely be Skull Cove. So piratical. Argh! Then it's around Cape Caution. A well named point separating Queen Charlotte Sound from Fitz Hugh Sound and exposed to the full Pacific. Our first real ocean exposure. Blain tried the seasickness medicine ahead of time, and he's relaxed, strolling around the docks, looking at neat stuff. And other stuff, too. Not just neat stuff. All the stuff.

Our next port-of-call is hoped to be Shearwater (Bella Bella). Happy spring to everyone.

We look north - a little groggy from fumes, though

This photo is of a painting/relief that our lovely niece Emily made for us. It looks great on the bulkhead above the sink where our old puffin painting was.

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We spent the last few days painting her bottom. "Who's bottom?” you might ask. Well HER bottom, of course. We stripped her, roughed her up, popped her blisters, applied makeup, and rolled her 'til she was wet.

We were dismayed to see so many blisters, but we got after them like ferrets in a prairie dog town, and by the end we had a pretty smooth hull.

Tom, our winter boat-minder stopped by to see the progress and lend moral support. His son Brennan stopped by to stomp in the mud puddles.

The dust from the bottom paint and all the epoxies probably set the planet back a few eons, but she's black and she's beautiful - and she's done.

Note the blue face on the astronaut.

Throughout the three days work, we splurged on a hotel stay since Blain probably would end up with extra broken bones if he'd tried the ladder. Chance was reunited with carpet, too. And he was happy.

Once safely back in the water, Blain took off for Bellingham to drop off the car and see the Dr., and Mo cleaned and waxed the deck until her arms almost fell off. We're shipping the car to Juneau in late July, so we can have ground transportation. It'll be bikes until then.

Blain is waddling around sans crutches and can walk the dog some. The ankle is stiff, and the muscles are, well, missing, so it will be a long road to full blast again. But he can get around on deck and up and down.

He took the down time to write up an article to a sailing magazine on inflatable kayaks. If published, it would be his first. Fingers are crossed.

It's exciting to look northward again. We might head to Alaska this week.