One by one the sands are flowing, 

One by one the moments fall.

Some are coming, Some are going;

Do not strive to grasp them all.

Adelaid Proctor, One by One

     Our journey north from Prince Rupert, one of the most dreaded crossings on the way to Alaska,  took us instead, through satin velvet seas as calm and gentle as a farm pond.  It wasn't until we were halfway to Duke Island that we even hoisted the sails.  By that time the winds came up just enough to put a puff into the genoa and propel us forward at a whopping 5 knots. The pacific swells felt like the ocean was taking in slow steady breaths as its buoyant diaphragm expanded and rested.   

     We sailed into the USA, then took a tack back to Canada and sailed over the watery boarder again.  Looking west we saw nothing beyond silvery crinkled aluminum seas, only one other boat in the distance, an old double ender ketch coming from the south.

     We anchored in Foggy Bay, as the sky was dimming.  Thankfully the tide was in, allowing us to cross over between a shallow, 9 foot isthmus into the inner bay, a protection from potential westerlies.  Since we haven't officially cleared customs yet, we can’t launch the dingy to explore the shoreline.  

     Gulls mewed as an eagle perched across the bay eyeing our meal, crab and fresh caught salmon with lemon butter, dinner on deck.   A little later, the ketch puttered in to share the cove.  We had met the owner in Price Rupert, one of the many interesting folks along the way.  His boat, Given is a storied vessel of generosity and ingenuity.  

    Water falling from the sky greeted me at 3:00 AM through tannin colored skies.  We’re on Alaska time today, the one hour difference confusing my inner clock.  Allusion needs to wait for high tide before we can exit our safe little harbor to continue on to Ketchikan.  Another cup of coffee, with the ebb and flow of the morning, “….one by one, the moments fall…..”

     

Westward hues