Vancouver Island

B.C. is HUGE! It is amazing to think that we have driven for 4 days and have only explored the southern portion of the province. Canadians seem to take their parks seriously. They are well organized and the campsites are clean, maintained and big. We could spend a whole summer here and not even see it all, so it is hard to decide what to do and where to go. We decided that we should trek over to Vancouver Island. Vancouver Island looks small in comparison to the B.C. mainland, but it is 400 miles long and 100 miles wide. We got up at 7:00 a.m. to get from our campsite at Porteau Cove to the fairly launch at Horseshoe Bay north of Vancouer by the 8:30 departure. We got in the relatively short line and made our way to the toll booth. The lady asked "how long are you?" "Err, uh, ahem, I...." "I'll get my measuring tape" she says and pulls out a rolling spool on a stick. "Oh, you wont need that, OH, OH, the r.v. and car." I am embellishing of course. She measured the whole assemblage to be 43 feet long, goes back to the booth and punches the figures into the computer/register and says "one hundred and seventy dollars." HELLO! Rickin' Frankin' R.V. towbar, car combo blues again. She said " you can go get coffee in the village, but make sure you are back here by 8:15." Kim looked at me and said "I thought it was 8:15". I had set the clock an hour later than it really was, so we were actually there an hour ahead of time. Robbing Kim of an hour of sleep is one thing that could sway her sunny disposition, but she forgave me when we got back and saw the long line that we would have been at the end of if we had indeed showed up at 8:15. There are only a few spots for big rigs, so we probably wouldn't have made the 8:15 ferry without my mistake. We were entertained by the German polka troop on the 90 minute ferry ride to the landing at Nanaimo Bay on Vancouver Island . They had two accordian players and 8 couples dancing in perfect sync. It was fun, I want to learn to polka. We drove off the ferry, gassed up and headed up the coast. We were headed to Campbell River where I heard the salmon were running. We stopped in town and talked to the local fishing store. The kid behind the counter said the rivers were full of Pink and Spring Salmon and loaded me up with the proper flies to catch them. At this point I could have run to the river without regard to anything else in life, but to catch fish. Unfortunately I had retrieve the r.v., find a campsite and get my fishing gear together. I finally got on the river by 4:00 p.m. I had no luck for about 2 hours, then one of the locals told me "if you don't have enough weight to get to the bottom, you will never get a bite." I put on a couple of small sinkers and fished for another hour. Kim came to visit and within 5 minutes I had a bite. It lasted for 2 seconds, but I could tell it was bigger than anything I had ever hooked on my flyrod. Kim left one minute later. This is proof that she gives not a hoot about fishing. Gentlemen, I ask "would you leave a fishing spot as soon as you saw someone get a bite?" Go figure. Thirty minutes went by and then I thought my line had caught on a rock again. I gave a small tug, and the rock bolted! I didn't want to lose this one so I gave the hook a double set. The fish shot out to the middle of the river and hovered in the current. I pulled as hard as I could and could only budge it a little. It then shot up river faster than any fish I had ever hooked. Of course the whole time I am having a silent dialogue with myself that went something like "wholy @#$% please, mother of god have mercy, let the boy land the salmon, I'm a good guy, I deserve to at least see the salmon." Nothin' doin'. The fish shot down river using fin and current power to strip line so fast I couldn't hang on and the hook popped. I didn't stand a chance. The Brit next to me said "you don't stand a chance against a big spring with a small rig like that!" The French Canadian on the other side of me gave me a good hole to go to up river where I could catch pink salmon on my little flyrod. I went up river and within 10 minutes had a great fight with a 5 lb. Pink salmon that was still very siver in color, which meant good eating. I caught another fish and headed back to camp. The second fish was darker in color and the flesh wasn't that good, so we didn't eat it, but the first fish was delicious. The next day I convinced Kim to come with me up the Quinsam River, where I caught several fish and spent a few moments within 50 feet of a blackbear and her two cubs. Kim caught the whole thing on video. It was a true B.C. moment.

I hated to leave good fishing waters and go sightseeing in Victoria, but we had a pseudo schedule to keep. We stayed at a campsite outside of Victoria and ventured in the next day to tour the city on our bicycles. Bike touring is such a good way to see things. You go at a great pace, cover quite a bit of territory and burn off calories, so you can gorge yourself on local fare! Being mister preparidness, I had to check with the ferry operators to see when we needed to be in line in the morning to get on the 10:30 ferry. I asked the guy at the entrance booth "what time in the morning do we need to get here to catch the 10:30 ferry?" He answered "about 7:30 tonight." I hate r.v.'s "7:30 tonight? For Tomorrow?" "Yup." "Can we stay in our r.v. inside the fence here?" "yup." Free camping on Victoria Harbour, I love's the r.v. We tooled around Victoria, biked around the point and across the city on the Galloping Goose bike trail, it was cool. We went back to the campground, loaded up the r.v. and drove back to the ferry line by 7:30 sharp only to find another 30 cars ahead of us for the 10:30 a.m. sailing. When we got to the entrance booth, the two young guys running the show started shaking their heads. "Any room for an American pig in an r.v. trailering a car?" I says. They either liked my candid humor or couldn't stand to see a huge be-bearded dude with puppy dog eyes. The asked "can you separate your vehicles quickly?" "yes, we can." "O.k. park the r.v. in lane two, the car at the head of lane 3, we aren't supposed to have room for you, so if someone asks, you had reservations." Those guys were awesome. They were real friendly and hooked us up. I told them they represented Canada well. We were allowed to come and go from the fenced confines of the ferry line for the evening, so we went back into Victoria and did some shopping and had a few beers. We had a nice long conversation with the German man in the little Fiat r.v. ahead of us in lane 2. He was on a four month trek of the U.S. with his two kids and wife. The Euro is strong against the dollar, so he said travelling the U.S. is relatively cheap. The next morning we made our way onto the ferry without a hitch, witnessing the poor stiffs that were already filling the 3:30 p.m. ferry line. Good bye to B.C. and all it's beauty, but thank god for the U.S. and it's lower prices.