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| Friday, July 25: Forecast winds W 10-15
knots
Reality began to intrude. My vacation was coming to an end. On Saturday morning, I must return home on the Sherbrooke to Halifax bus. The bus doesn’t have a run on Sunday morning and I had to be at work on Monday. The bus is a classic “milk run” stopping anywhere along the road, carrying freight or passengers, and taking the most indirect route imaginable to the city. I mulled over where I should leave the boat. Either wharf at Liscomb or Little Liscomb would do, but the germ of decadence grew. I could instead sail to Liscomb Lodge for the night and catch the bus from there. The lodge was too expensive to stay at, but a mooring at their marina was reasonable. I was concerned that I might be making a social gaffe arriving in a Wayfarer at a marina catering to wealthy yachtsmen. Anyway, I’d do a recce and at least use their phone to call Gail. Rowing from the cove for the last time was a sad occasion. When a light breeze developed, it funnelled up the channel toward Liscomb River rather than the westerly headwind I had anticipated. Perhaps I was destined to visit the Lodge after all. |
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| There were half a dozen ocean going yachts at the marina. A large friendly man approached and welcomed me to the marina. “I’ve seen you up in Liscomb Harbour for the last few days.” he mentioned. He still had one float available and I was welcome to it. Then he gave me a row boat to use as a tender. Even though two yachts arrived later, they had to anchor and I kept my mooring. The marina had showers, laundry, couch, chairs, and a table. I also could use the pool and other facilities. |
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| After a shower and changing into clean clothes,
I had lunch at the lodge restaurant. From the window of the restaurant,
I had a fine view of our yachts (above). Later I peered through
the window at the indoor pool. There was nobody at the pool-- maybe
I should try it. I dislike swimming and haven’t been in a pool since
1977. My children are amazed if I wade to my knees at a beach.
Being adventurous, I went for a swim and found it wasn’t as bad as I remembered.
There was a small pool alongside the regular pool. I put my hand
in and was impressed at the warmth of the water. It must be a kids' pool.
The attendant said: “Sir, the timer is on the wall; May I set it
for five minutes?” A whirlpool bath; I had heard of them but never
seen one. I spent the afternoon between the deck, pool, and whirlpool.
Later that evening I phoned Gail. I have a bad record of ending up in motels, pubs, bed and breakfasts, and other such spots on my wilderness adventures. “Gail - I’m at Liscomb Lodge,” I confessed sheepishly. “I knew you’d end up there,” she replied. |