When we walked back to the marina the next morning, December 21, it was even colder than the previous day, and we were not expecting much to happen. To our wonder the truck was unstuck and it had moved closer to the crane. We continued working on the mast and after about an hour and a half the marina owner tried to start the crane. Red hydraulic fluid fountained onto the white snow. At this point the owner became a little grumpy and said "We are done here, I am closing the yard, no work will be done until after Christmas". What could we say? It was his marina and his crane. So Stan and Linda unhooked their truck and went to spend the Christmas holidays at a truck stop while LE scrambled to find transport back to Vancouver. With such short notice days before Christmas, not to mention the heavy snowfall, our transportation options were limited. Nothing was available until the Greyhound bus leaving at 9:30 P.M., not our favourite bus company but we needed to get out of there.
Although the yard was shut we continued working on Curare and managed to get all of the rigging reattached to the mast, put the anchor and chain back on the boat, put on the bow pulpit, re-attached the forward lifelines and went below to see if anything had been damaged during transport, or if any of the numerous canned goods had exploded. We could not put on the aft lifelines because the arch was not attached, it was tied in place with lines. About every 15 minutes we would go into the building that the yard manager had left open for us so that we could warm our hands. Without that small act of kindness we would not have been able to get all of the work done because it was windy and bitterly cold. We left the yard at 4 P.M. and trudged back to the train station (3 miles) stopping on the way to warm up in a brew pub and then stopping again to eat dinner by a cheery fire.
The bus stop is at the Amtrak train station and we arrived just as the southbound Vancouver train was disgorging it's passengers. Once they had left it was just us and the security guard. Fairly soon another couple arrived dragging huge suitcases, they were also waiting for the 9:30 P.M. bus. At 10:15 P.M. they phoned Greyhound in Seattle and asked when the bus would arrive. The agent said that the bus had not even left Seattle, Greyhound was waiting for the bus driver who was travelling from Portland; the bus might arrive in Bellingham at 3:00 A.M. At this point GG spoke to the local taxi company, also in the Amtrak building, and learned that we could get a taxi to the border. Thirty minutes later a Crown Vic rolled up and the driver hopped out holding a small dog wearing a pink jacket. We shoved the two huge suitcases into the trunk and carried the hand luggage on our laps, a squeeze even in such a large car. 
Away we raced at high speed, with the dog sitting in the driver's lap, and made it to the border in 20 minutes. At this point the driver told us that he and his car were not allowed near the official border crossing so he let us out at the duty free store and we walked across. There wasn't a cleared sidewalk so we trekked through the snow in the traffic lane, the other couple dragging their enormous pieces of luggage behind them. At the little booth the border guard laughed and directed us into the building where we were welcomed back to Canada. We arranged for another taxi to collect us and take us into Vancouver, a distance of 50 km (30 miles) and we were back in the condo by 1:00 A.M.
BUT wait - there is more. The next day we were taking the ferry back to Gabriola Island as foot passengers. Normally LE does not make a reservation as a foot passenger but this time she did. A reservation means the passenger (or vehicle) needs to be at the ferry at least 30 minutes prior to departure. We set off from the condo at 9:40 A.M. to take the local bus to Horseshoe Bay and the ferry. The ferry was not leaving until 1 P.M. but we left early because we wanted time to eat lunch. The bus left downtown Vancouver on schedule and it was standing room only, we zoomed along, until we did not. Near the top of the hill leading down to the ferry dock traffic was 
completely stopped. Bus passengers wondered why and began demanding that the driver let us off so we could walk. After 20 minutes or so he relented and opened the door; less than 10 people got out. We jogged down the hill at a rapid pace, to claim our reservation prior to the 12:30 cut-off, and made it with zero minutes to spare. The agent told us that all foot passenger tickets had been sold, but we said "we have a reservation". Then she said "you are too late", but the other agent said it was up to the computer and the computer said we had arrived on time. It was only 30 minutes before departure, not enough time for lunch, but then we found out that the 1 P.M. ferry was not arriving until 2:15 P.M. which left us plenty of time for a quick bite to eat. Gotta' love B.C. Ferries.
The rest of the trip home was uneventful, but Curare was spending Christmas in Bellingham by herself. Not what we had planned.
Welcome home! I have certainly enjoyed follwoing your adventures over the years. Best of luck with whatever comes next.
Posted by: Geoff L | April 05, 2023 at 08:04 AM