Wallace Island
Union Bay has a Colourful Past
Tod Inlet's Wandering Minstrel
The Perfect Summer Evening
Silver of the Sea
Sandy Island Provincial Marine Park
The Ride Of My Life
Killers
My Love Affair With the Pacific
A Great Day For Gooey Ducks
The Principles of Ecotourism
Booth Bay Bald Eagles
Try Not to Drown, OK?
If You Drink, Don't Boat
Pacific White-Sided Dolphins
Docking
Denman Island
Deane Page
Craig Bay
Power Squadron Safe Boating Course
Coastal Watch
My First Boat Show
The Airplane

Nautical Notes
by Marilyn Guille

My Love Affair With the Pacific

I was sixteen the first time I stuck my toes in the Pacific Ocean, and I recall being awestruck that such an incredible body of water could exist on our planet. Having been born in Nova Scotia (but too young when I left to remember it), I believe I already had a love for the water "in my bones," and I knew then that I'd never again want to be too far away from it. After eleven years in Victoria, during which time I never tired of sitting on the rocks at Clover Point or going for windswept walks in Cadboro Bay, I finally went boating for the first time. That's when a new dimension of my love for this water came into being.
However, having young children and no money (a combination that often seems to go hand-in-hand) precluded spending much time on the wonderful Pacific . . . and the years passed. Except for a short stint with a 16-foot runabout, my husband and I remained "boatless" for a long time. Then economics forced a move to sunny Alberta in 1982; that marked the longest stretch of time I've been away from my ocean since finding it in my teens. The only consolation in Alberta was that we found a home with a river in the backyard, so we weren't completely landlocked.
Finally, in 1988, we moved back to Vancouver Island. (Since settling here in the Oceanside region, I've remarked on numerous occasions that I don't care if I never see that side of the Rockies again.) Within weeks of arriving here, we had a boat in the water again.
Needless to say, we spend as much time as possible "out there." Our friends all know that from April until October, we're pretty much unavailable, unless they're interested in cruising. If you can't come along when we leave the dock, swim out to us in Parksville Bay or at Shingle Spit while we're anchored and picnicking, or raise us on the VHF, forget it - leave a message at the tone, and we'll get back to you.
Well, the kids have grown up (in spite of us), and now we can look forward to the next stage in our lives. We've carried this love affair to its logical conclusion - living aboard permanently. Soon we'll be able to motor off into the proverbial sunset, with "no forwarding address." It's the next best thing to heaven.