Day four: The escape!
Ok, it’s not like we were being tortured there or anything, but we were pretty anxious to just get home. When we made or original ferry reservations we had thought maybe that day four would be the day we would have a leisurely breakfast and then tour down to Victoria and check out the waterfront. You know, taking our time winding down from all that balcony sitting we’d planned on. So we booked a 5:00 pm ferry.
We got up early, checked out well before the maximum time and had one last breakfast at, you guessed it, Smitty’s.
This time the waitress DID remember us. She probably wondered where we were the next day. Anyway, we ate looked at each other when we got back in the car and agreed to high-tail it to the ferry. Screw the reservation. We listened to the radio to see what if any sail waits there were and found out that the very next ferry was only half full. We made it in plenty of time (it was running a touch behind) and sat for maybe half an hour before being waved on board. We were lucky, we basically JUST made it on, there was maybe a couple of people behind us before they were fully loaded.
This ferry was one of the older ones, more like what remember as a kid (old!) though much smaller. I guess they have several sizes they run depending on the time of day? Anyway, it was seaworthy I guess that is what counts. Oh yeah we noticed that one of the crewmen was standing up by the bridge was actually wearing an eye patch! I don’t think it was for effect or anything though, but it was a nice touch.
This time we spent the entire voyage outside on the sun deck. Us and maybe a dozen other families most of which were definitely tourists, and not the tourist in your own backyard types like us so it was interesting hearing the different languages being spoken, or the take of a few Americans here for the first time that were blown away by the scenery, which is for sure very lovely. A couple of parents had their little toddlers running around barely with an eye on them which drives me nuts. There was a flight of metal stairs that one cute little guy came uncomfortably close to a half dozen times.
There was plenty of sitting room and the weather was gorgeous, most of the way there despite the wind it was warm enough to forgo a jacket or sweater.
Part of the way across I had a song stuck in my head. I mentioned it to Tom and he mention he had one too. His was nicer, “Sailing sailing over the bounding main” mine? The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. I didn’t want to actually UTTER the word wreck while on a boat, especially around other people, and though the peole beside us were speaking German, I was pretty sure they spoke English, so I stretched my mouth all out and speaking through my teeth said… “you know…. the Edmund Fitzgerald” looking sheepishly at the people beside us for any spark of recognition. They were ignoring me.
Yeah singing a song like that on a boat is kind of like watching Airport 1975 while flying cross country. I couldn’t help it though, the song sounds so maritime-ish even though the subject matter isn’t exactly what one wants to sing while on a boat.
So while humming the inappropriate tune I took pictures. The pictures probably look pretty similar to those taken on the way there, I mean it’s the same route, I still had to take shots of the ferry going the other way.
There was just enough wind to generate a great Medusa moment with my hair.
Thankfully I will be getting a couple of inches of this mess cut off next week, no luck getting in this week sadly.
We were SO glad to finally get HOME. We stopped at the store, picked up a few provisions for the night (including wine!) and celebrated the couch. Dorothy Gale was right on the money.