Tuesday August 19, 2014

Tuesday August 19 we walk the old docks at Greenway and they have been curved like a mountain highway with banked corners. The wind, current and the uneven stress of the anchor points have left them twisted like a dog’s hind leg. The restaurant had once hummed with laughter and free flowing wine, prime rib done to a turn. Waiters had scurried back and forth to the pickup line for silver cutlery in hand and return with white napkins for ones lap. Later on after the meal the quite press for you to select some apple strudel with ice cream or some other delectable dish too hard to refuse. And then there are the grand coffee liquors to round out the evening with dear friends and ship mates. Those days are gone and perhaps some strong young soul will pick up torch and reinvent the lodge on the water in Greenway Sound. I HOPE SO.

 

Chevy has longed for her run, she can’t help it as it’s the whippet in her and she remembers the promise that was made in a weak moment about a WALK to the lake. We dawn the pack sack with a cargo of a couple of apples, bag of peanuts, paper towels, camera, EPERB,VHF radio, bear horn, pepper spray, I- phone  and my trusty fire extinguisher and a partridge in a pear tree. The first part of the trail is a leg and thigh muscle burners, are walking sticks bearing the weight to support are Mount Everest expedition. Chevy is off in whirl of light, gone and back again, gone and back again, covers all the terrain about us ten times over. We reach a level area and the trail becomes wide under tall second growth evergreens.

On the Broughton Lake Trail

  

The original skidder road is now thick with grass, and fir cone that leaves you a walking on foam rubber feel. This is a magic final ascent to the headwaters of the creek that flows into the sound. Broughton Lake is tea coloured and has still has evidence of a logging show on the far side from another access logging road.

The Forestry Dept. has constructed a new outhouse and its woodsy Adirondack look worthy of a glossy New York magazine cover. The planked varnished wood door has a crescent moon as befitting the most elegant and first class whistle thump. It is well equipped with T P in a red coffee canister and a broom to tidy up the pine needles that are blown through the open soffit face. The boys or girls that put this stuff together really know how please the tired old bums that make it to this lofty level.

Broughton Lake

The lake head has a silver log beach picnic table and small dock with a swim ladder. A short nap and a slow saunter back through the tall evergreens to the beach head. It is the opportune times to look over our shoulder and surmise, if ever we will be here again.

Back at the old Greenway docks and preparing to leave Bob off the “Sea Keeper” comes down the wiggly old docks and he wants to peek at “OA” to get the full impact of owning (and why not to own) a vintage wooden beast. After marvelling at the insanity of it, sprints to bring Terry his spouse back to confirm his suspicion of the malady. We swap stories about a north water adventures. As we talk about boats I am curious about his tin boat. We get an invite to tour there vessel and HEAR stories of its first owner’s travels through the Caribbean. At a second look you realize this is a ‘go north boat’ with small diesels and all the toys that make a comfortable long voyage abode with the wish that you do not want to go home ever. THE ONE COMMON COMFORT ESSENTIAL ABOVE ALL
ELSE ON THESE ‘GO NORTH’ VESSELS IS THE ALMIGHTY OIL STOVE OR HEATER.

Greenway Sunset

 

We both leave together and now the docks are empty and you can almost hear them sigh, I don’t know if it is from the relieved stress on her old bones or from the loneliness from all of us leaving. Away like a swan on wing we make our flight to Shaw Bay. Perhaps this will be our last visit this year.

Home waters are calling and the press of the obligation of being the hunt master at the BYC Fall Cruise is on me. We say are goodbyes to all the folks in a farewell last turkey dinner hosted by Shawn and Loren. The evening’s entertainment was hosted the very talented Capt. Charlie. The singer/song writer sings about his fifty years of cruising on the coast particularly the Broughtons. He donates his CDs at cost to the small marinas here and they put a small mark up on them. His music is like a West North Coast Jimmy Buffet.