Homeward bound
Late on a cold wet evening Omache glided into Victoria inner harbour. I was looking for a large red-roofed building under which lay the customs dock. At night of course there is no such thing as red. All colours are shades of grey. Thinking that I had found the correct dock I tied up and went up the ramp to find the customs phone. Not only was I at the wrong dock but I had inadvertently locked the security gate leading back to the dock! So here I was in the pouring rain on the wrong dock looking forlornly at Omache (my home for the last year and a half) who was just out of reach. Welcome back to Canada I thought. A vast difference from my landing in Hawaii where I was greeted with a lei and fresh fruit.
My immediate problem was how to get back to Omache. I could take off my clothes and swim to her but the water was freezing or I could scale the security fence which looked very menacing with nails sticking out from the perimeter to prevent such a feat. Thinking nothing is impossible and with that feeling I clung to the fence and slowly clawed my way round to the other side. No one was more amazed than me to be standing on the other side again without an injury or tear in my clothing. Back on Omache I found the customs dock one dock away and sure enough there was the phone. A few moments and questions later the customs lady (who by the way thought I was ‘nuts’ to have embarked on such a journey) gave me my clearance number and wished me well. I found a public dock next to the customs dock and slid Omache into a berth. I then ‘jerry-rigged’ the security gate so I could return and went ashore to phone Sal. My last thought before I fell asleep (I had been awake for 60 hours) was that the journey of discovery was over – I’m home and despite the weather it felt good.