Gold Wings, Killer Whales and Juan de Fuca...
9th July
Feeling curiously unrefreshed after a few days admin at Surrey, I’m on the road for 0800, planning to get the 0900 ferry to Vancouver Island. It’s my intention to spend a couple of days touring around there, as I’ve had it recommended to me by just about everyone who has been there.
As I approach the freeway leading to the Tsawwassen Ferry Terminal, I come across a major traffic jam. There’s clearly been an accident ahead. After failing to move for over 5 minutes, I retrace my steps and decide to go and have some breakfast and get a later ferry. I head back towards town and, using the ‘Find’ facility on my GPS, locate a Garmin dealer and buy Metroguide Canada – which should solve the poor mapping problems I’ve experienced north of the border. It works out at nearly $170 Canadian (£74-ish), by the time tax is added to the price, but, when loaded (using my laptop whilst having breakfast in a little transport café), provides excellent detail…
I return to find the road clear and I pay the $28 Canadian ferry fare (about £12). I’m directed straight to the front of the long queue, where I join 3 Gold Wings and their riders and passengers. I field the usual questions until, soon afterwards, we’re directed on board. I mention that I think the fare is quite reasonable – they’re amazed – they think they’re being ripped off. I explain that the distance involved is much the same as crossing from Dover to Calais and give them some idea of the fare for that journey and the fares, for example, on the Skye Bridge, and they suddenly seem to understand why I feel as I do
Once aboard, the crew refuse to do anything to secure the bikes – it’s all at our own risk (liability problems I’d guess). There are no ropes or straps, but rather, some large wooden chocks. I put the Adv on its sidestand, leave it in first gear, use one of my luggage straps to tie the sidestand to the front wheel, then, lifting the right side up, jam a large wooden wedge under the frame just ahead of the rear wheel. It wouldn’t do for the Channel, but this crossing is apparently quite calm (it will be today, at least…).
I spend the 90 minute crossing trying, unsuccessfully, to get some pictures of the pods of Killer Whales & Pilot Whales which pass the ferry from time to time. I say unsuccessfully for 2 reasons – firstly, the camera I have has only a short (135mm equivalent) lens, and they are small and distant and, secondly, using a digital camera, the opportunity for a good pic has often passed by the time the camera has decided to take a picture (sometimes nearly a second after you’ve pressed the shutter release). So you’ll have to look at this…
…and take my word for the fact that they are very impressive to watch...
Soon, we’re back at our (thankfully still upright) bikes…
…and getting ready to disembark at Swartz Bay, just north of Victoria, on Vancouver Island.
It looks pretty similar to the mainland, except for a light drizzle falling. I say my farewells to the Gold Wingers, who are from Alberta, and head south, intending to skirt the southern shore and stay somewhere in the area of Port Renfrew. I stop for a (late) lunch at Sooke, by which time the sun is out and the temperature a very pleasant 68ºF…
…where I have a very good salad and soup. There are about 5 middle aged women running the place – all of them in a complete dither about somebody coming in and wanting something to eat. Eventually I get fed and, when paying my bill, Agnes says ‘Oh, you’ve given me a dollar too much’. ‘No’, I say patiently, ‘that’s a tip’. She thanks me. They’ve clearly not been doing this long, judging by the complete chaos surrounding a single customer. I ask Agnes how long they’ve been running the café – ‘Oh, just over 10 years’…
I continue along the southern shore…
…out to sea, a fogbank all but obscures the view of Washington, USA. The straits here are named for Juan de Fuca – though quite what Juan did to deserve such an unfortunate name is unclear…
At length I reach Port Renfrew and get the last room in the Trailhead Motel.
I plan a trip for tomorrow – 140km over some mountain roads – probably pretty similar to those I encountered on the way to Whistler the other day, then get an early night…
9th July
Feeling curiously unrefreshed after a few days admin at Surrey, I’m on the road for 0800, planning to get the 0900 ferry to Vancouver Island. It’s my intention to spend a couple of days touring around there, as I’ve had it recommended to me by just about everyone who has been there.
As I approach the freeway leading to the Tsawwassen Ferry Terminal, I come across a major traffic jam. There’s clearly been an accident ahead. After failing to move for over 5 minutes, I retrace my steps and decide to go and have some breakfast and get a later ferry. I head back towards town and, using the ‘Find’ facility on my GPS, locate a Garmin dealer and buy Metroguide Canada – which should solve the poor mapping problems I’ve experienced north of the border. It works out at nearly $170 Canadian (£74-ish), by the time tax is added to the price, but, when loaded (using my laptop whilst having breakfast in a little transport café), provides excellent detail…
I return to find the road clear and I pay the $28 Canadian ferry fare (about £12). I’m directed straight to the front of the long queue, where I join 3 Gold Wings and their riders and passengers. I field the usual questions until, soon afterwards, we’re directed on board. I mention that I think the fare is quite reasonable – they’re amazed – they think they’re being ripped off. I explain that the distance involved is much the same as crossing from Dover to Calais and give them some idea of the fare for that journey and the fares, for example, on the Skye Bridge, and they suddenly seem to understand why I feel as I do
Once aboard, the crew refuse to do anything to secure the bikes – it’s all at our own risk (liability problems I’d guess). There are no ropes or straps, but rather, some large wooden chocks. I put the Adv on its sidestand, leave it in first gear, use one of my luggage straps to tie the sidestand to the front wheel, then, lifting the right side up, jam a large wooden wedge under the frame just ahead of the rear wheel. It wouldn’t do for the Channel, but this crossing is apparently quite calm (it will be today, at least…).
I spend the 90 minute crossing trying, unsuccessfully, to get some pictures of the pods of Killer Whales & Pilot Whales which pass the ferry from time to time. I say unsuccessfully for 2 reasons – firstly, the camera I have has only a short (135mm equivalent) lens, and they are small and distant and, secondly, using a digital camera, the opportunity for a good pic has often passed by the time the camera has decided to take a picture (sometimes nearly a second after you’ve pressed the shutter release). So you’ll have to look at this…
…and take my word for the fact that they are very impressive to watch...
Soon, we’re back at our (thankfully still upright) bikes…
…and getting ready to disembark at Swartz Bay, just north of Victoria, on Vancouver Island.
It looks pretty similar to the mainland, except for a light drizzle falling. I say my farewells to the Gold Wingers, who are from Alberta, and head south, intending to skirt the southern shore and stay somewhere in the area of Port Renfrew. I stop for a (late) lunch at Sooke, by which time the sun is out and the temperature a very pleasant 68ºF…
…where I have a very good salad and soup. There are about 5 middle aged women running the place – all of them in a complete dither about somebody coming in and wanting something to eat. Eventually I get fed and, when paying my bill, Agnes says ‘Oh, you’ve given me a dollar too much’. ‘No’, I say patiently, ‘that’s a tip’. She thanks me. They’ve clearly not been doing this long, judging by the complete chaos surrounding a single customer. I ask Agnes how long they’ve been running the café – ‘Oh, just over 10 years’…
I continue along the southern shore…
…out to sea, a fogbank all but obscures the view of Washington, USA. The straits here are named for Juan de Fuca – though quite what Juan did to deserve such an unfortunate name is unclear…
At length I reach Port Renfrew and get the last room in the Trailhead Motel.
I plan a trip for tomorrow – 140km over some mountain roads – probably pretty similar to those I encountered on the way to Whistler the other day, then get an early night…
