Photos from Klewnuggit

Khutze Inlet to Klewnuggit

Today started out early for Captain and most of the crew. At 5:00 am the anchor was being hauled in. Chef and I didn’t wake until 7:00 so we missed most of the early morning activities. By the time I came up from crew quarters, we were just moving out of deep fog into the sun. It was so beautiful - I had to take photos. My camera was totally out of batteries, so I grabbed Chef’s and snapped away. I’m actually pretty happy with some of the photos.

We had an early morning breakfast, oatmeal and fresh fruit as we cruised. A few hours into the trip, the Captain explained that we would be stopping in at a natural hot spring. I was so excited - I LOVE natural hot springs. About ten or twelve of us, from several different boats, piled into the two roomy tubs, It was heavenly! The perfect temperature and a great treat.

Shortly after we got back to the boat from the hot tubs, Chef was serving an incredible meal, carrot and ginger soup with a rice salad that was so amazing, I had to go back for seconds. I’d have gone back for thirds if the others weren’t watching.

The cruise today to Klewnugget was a long one, between 70 and 80 miles. Thankfully, the sun was shining the entire route, and snow capped mountain after snow capped mountain lined our route the entire trip. After so many days of cold, wet rain, we couldn’t get enough of the sun. Buck, Chef and I plugged the iPod into the portable speakers and sat or napped on the back deck for as long as we could take the cool wind and warm sun. There were entire hours of this leg that I have to call perfect moments – it was a combination of the right people, the right view, the right temperature, the right music. Perfect moments to remember for a lifetime.

We arrived at the Klewnugget anchorage at 6:00 pm and the sun was still shining and the seas were calm. Chef was cooking in the kitchen and the great smells were taunting all of us. We were one of the last to pull in but still we managed to get an invitation for cocktails and smoked salmon on one of the neighboring boats. We took a dinghy over to the other boat and it was great fun to visit with the others for a while. Over cocktails, I heard one of the best bear stories I’ve ever heard. Much of what made the story so good was the storyteller, but the facts themselves were also pretty amazing.

Bill, a bear of a man himself, was traveling by boat with his wife. While the boat was at anchor, he took the dinghy to shore to go clamming. He found a nice beach, about 100 yards from the trees. He got down on his hands and knees and started digging for clams. He said he was startled when his wife’s shadow fell upon him. Then he remembered that his wife was still back on the boat. He looked up and into the eyes of a huge grizzly bear. It was at this point of the story that he explained that he has hunted bear in the past and is experienced in how to respond to a bear. First, if you have food, throw it to the bear. Second, never turn your back on the bear or run away, rather, make yourself appear as large as possible and slowly back away. Understanding that he was wise in “the ways of the bear”, the cocktail party attendees held their breath, waiting to hear which tactic he used to escape the bear. “I grabbed my bucket of clams and turned and ran like hell,” he explained. He said that he ran as fast as he could out to his dinghy, which meant that he was now waist deep in water. His brain kicked back in, in time for him to realize that he had just made two major mistakes and that by standing in the water he’d actually made himself look even smaller. He looked at the bear, which had originally been standing on all fours. The bear was now standing on its back two legs; with its arms spread wide grunting and making a horrible snarling sound. Bill realized that he had just given the bear every clue it needed to begin a chase. Something clicked for Bill and he got the dinghy between himself and the bear. Then he raised his hands above his head (wielding his small garden bucket full of clams and shaking his tiny garden shovel). In his loudest voice possible, he roared back at the bear. He said, “that bear looked at me like I was crazy”. But Bill also recognized that his actions caused the bear to stop. So, he roared again, as loud as he could. This second roar really seemed to stun the bear. Bill roared one more time, and the bear gave up. He dropped back down onto all fours, and slowly turned around and ambled away.

At 8:00, we headed back to the boat as Chef was putting the final touches on dinner. Buck and I used a dinghy to go to each of the boats and hand out gifts we had for everyone. It was really fun to stop in and visit with each boat for a few minutes, and we even got some fresh baked cookies out of the deal! As we were bobbing around in the dinghy, we looked down into the water and saw thousands and thousands of jellyfish in the water. I don’t know why, but I was really surprised to see all those jellyfish in the 36-degree water. I’ve always associated jellyfish with warmer water.

After we made our rounds, we enjoyed another amazing meal by Chef. Followed by drink at the bar. The newest member of the team, Larry, who recently replaced Fran as the Service Genius is now on board the bar. Last night, he had all of us in stitches with what I can only describe as his stand up comedy show. The guy is damned funny. Later that night when he drove us back to Sanctuary in the dinghy, we could see the phosphorescence glowing in his wake – beautiful little dayglo waves.

Photos from Khutze

Waterfall at Khutze Inlet

Night at Khutze Inlet

Captain, First Mate, Margo and Cinnamon

Klemtu Longhouse

Bear Valley

Buck and Cinnamon

Bear Valley

Chef and Cinnamon

Views en route to Khutze

Shearwater to Khutze Inlet

Hands down, this has been the most amazing leg of the trip for me. I got up about 6:30 or 7:00 am and we were already underway. Margo, our trusty sailor and advisor, explained that this was the scenic route, and was she ever right about that. The waterway that we traveled on was calm and smooth the whole journey (50+ nautical miles). As our journey progressed, the channel narrowed and the hills and mountains around us grew taller and taller. We were finally in “The Fiordlands”. The day was sunny, with occasional clouds rolling in for dramatic effect.



About an hour into our trip, six playful porpoises joined us and jumped and played at the bow of our boat for a couple of minutes. We all ran out to the bow and were giddy with joy. Buck took some photos (I’ll try to get copies) but I was so thrilled with the whole thing that I hadn’t even thought to stop and grab my camera. If that had been all that had happened, it would have been the perfect day, but things continued to get better and better (with a few bumps along the way).

Just after our porpoise encounter, Buck and I saw a little otter-like creature playing in the water, just in front of the boat. He stayed put until the boat was right on top of him and then he high-tailed it out of there. Shortly after that, we had a whale swim up alongside the boat. We watched as his entire, massive body surfaced across the top of the water and culminated with the flick of his tail as he disappeared. Again, Buck caught the whole thing on camera, and my hands were empty.



After the wildlife adventures, Chef prepared breakfast and I took my traditional morning role at the coffee maker. To try to keep our garbage to a minimum, we’d been asked to use the garbage disposal as much as possible (yes, this yacht has a garbage disposal on board, and a washer and dryer and a water maker, but that’s beside the point). So, like every morning, I dumped the coffee grounds into the disposal. Well, this was a bad move. I managed to clog the drain, and this was a real problem because we’d just had the drain unclogged a day or two ago by one of the Grand Banks Service Geniuses (I realize now, that was probably because I’d been putting the coffee grounds in there the whole time). So, when I clogged the drain again so quickly after having it fixed, it caused a bit of upset on the boat.

It seems like the Captain and First Mate are fixing one or two problems (at least) everyday. Partially, this is because of their inexperienced crew who make bonehead mistakes, partially, it is because the boat is new and still being broken in, and partially it is because boat systems are just more sensitive than normal household systems. So, I was feeling really awful because I’d just added to their workload and clogged the drain. We agreed to have the Service Genius back so he could fix it once we anchored. Relieved that a fix was on the horizon, I went downstairs and used the head (toilet). And, it got stopped up. So, within 15 minutes, I’d managed to clog the sink and the head. I was feeling really, really low (and embarrassed). The Captain and First Mate explained that this was standard operating procedure and not to worry, but I was really stressed about my handiwork. Embarrassed, I headed out to the bow to try to relax and take in the view.

The area around us was so beautiful, I sat myself down on some cushions at the front of the boat, and wrapped myself around Cinnamon (Sanctuary’s dog) for warmth. Later, Chef brought me a blanket to keep warm. It was really cold out there, but the view and intense emotions I was experiencing kept me in my seat for at least an hour.


I took over 80 photos on that leg, sadly, most didn’t turn out very well because it was too sunny. While the sun wasn’t great for photos, it felt great to sit in.

The whole trip up, the crew of Sanctuary were dying to see a bear. We thought that this would be our day since we’d already had such incredible luck with the porpoises and the whale. At one point, Captain got on his loudspeakers and asked all bear to report for duty at waters edge. Sadly, they must have been on break at that time because none showed up.

All in all, the cruise took about seven hours, and it was beautiful and calm and amazing the entire duration. It was a truly thrilling trip that only got better once we reached our anchorage. We dropped anchor at the end of an inlet, with a view to one side of a snowcapped mountain sprouting an incredible waterfall. In another direction was a beautiful grassy valley, flanked by mountains. Behind us were more dramatic mountains and in the remaining direction (the direction from which we’d traveled) was the channel cutting through the tall mountains.

After arriving, we were quickly informed by the first to arrive that they had seen a lazy grizzly, just a few feet away, chewing on the bright spring grass. Later, other participants went exploring by dinghy further up the inlet. They came across another grizzly, just 20-30 yards away. When we heard this news, a number of us piled into the dinghy and headed up the inlet to see if we could also spot the bear. The shallow water (and borrowed dinghy) kept us from traveling too far up the waterway. We did have a chance to see a half dozen seals playing in the shallow water.

While we had been out in the dinghy, our Service Genius had stopped in and fixed the problems I’d created. He was gratefully asked to stay for dinner.

Outside, we had stunning 360 degree views, but my eyes were constantly drawn to the grassy valley and the mountains behind it. I spent hours on the bow just taking the view in (and taking countless photos of it).

While I was staring at the meadow, Chef made the most amazing dinner using the salmon she’d been given the night before. She made an incredible wine sauce to go over the top. I don’t really like salmon, but before going on the trip I’d told myself that I would eat everything Chef made, in an effort to expand my horizons. The salmon was amazing, probably the best salmon I’ve ever had. Chef is a genius. She also served some amazing cheese and salami, tomato bruschetta and roasted fennel, potato and onion. An amazing meal and prepared on a boat. The dinner conversation was fun and the company great.

Dinner and dishes were finished just as the sun was beginning to go down. I returned to my place at the bow of the boat, with iPod on and camera in hand. As I sat overlooking the meadow, I saw an object that looked interesting. I grab the binoculars, and sure enough, there was a huge grizzly bear eating grass in the middle of the meadow. I called out the others on the boat, and someone from our group radioed the other boats in the inlet and we all had a chance to see our grizzly.

After our bear sighting, things began to wind down. Buck, Chef and I had a glass of wine on the bow of the boat, and watched the light change and listened to the waterfall. Later, the clear skies allowed us to see millions of stars. It was an incredible anchorage and a magical night.

Duncanby Landing to Shearwater (Bellla Bella)

Chef and I woke on our own again this morning, around 7:30 am. I can’t tell you how great it is to wake on our own in the late morning, as opposed to waking at the crack of dawn to our rowdy neighbors - the twin 1000 HP Caterpillar engines (as long as we aren’t waking in Sullivan Bay that is).

I ambled upstairs and found Captain sitting in the California Cockpit (the back deck in layman terms) a huge grin on his face and a warm cup of coffee in his hand. He was in heaven, sitting comfortably with his dog at his side and the rain pouring down on calm seas. It was nice to see Captain enjoying a slow start to the morning and it set the tone for the day.

I ran up to the lodge and gathered up the fresh muffins and coffee they had put out for us. What a great way to start the day! Once everyone was up in the galley, Captain got us underway. The seas were like glass during the first portion of our journey, much to the pleasure of Chef and myself. We had one batch of rocky seas, but gratefully, Captain got us out of those pretty quickly and we were back to smooth sailing for the next few hours.

Chef took advantage of the calm seas to make a minestrone soup and risotto cakes that would be our lunch. The galley was filled with incredible smells as she chopped and simmered. Later, we ate lunch as we cruised on calm seas.

The water was a bit rough on this trip, and it was a very gray, rainy day, so I don’t have many photos from this leg.

At about 3:00 pm, we pulled into our next stop, Shearwater. I’d expected it to be just a few buildings – but it turned out the area was pretty well developed. The afternoon was a little hectic as I made calls to several of the marinas and outfitters to change our plans. Buck helped me and I was able to use the satellite phone to make the calls. It was really great to have the ability to actually communicate with people. I’ve got most of our events rescheduled or cancelled now, and I’m feeling much better.

We had to make some changes to the schedule. After Shearwater, we were supposed to go to a First Nations village – Klemtu and then go to an anchorage the next day. We decided to shorten the trip by cutting out the stop to Klemtu. I was sad about the decision because it was the only First Nations event I had planned, but I understood the wisdom of shortening the trip to try to make up time.

Before I knew it, it was time for our dinner. I’d made arrangements for the restaurant to hold a salmon bake. They also prepared chicken and ribs and had several salads and an apple crumble. For some reason, this more elaborate dinner didn’t seem to be as well received as the burger BBQ the night before, but people seemed to have a really good time.

Just as dinner was getting started, the manager of the restaurant approached Chef and asked her if she would like some free sockeye salmon. It seems that there are a large number of sports fishermen in the area. When they get bored, they go fishing. When they pull in fish they don’t have a use for, they sometimes give it to the restaurant. The restaurant can’t serve it (their license requires them to purchase their food from pre-approved sources). So the restaurant stores it in their freezer or gives it out to friends and family. Chef was given a Sockeye Salmon. The head had been removed and the insides cleaned out, but fish still weighed 20 Ibs in total. Chef was like a kid in a candy store. She quickly ran back to the boat and filet the Salmon. She packaged pieces of fish in zip lock bags and gave one to each boat at the end of the night. She was a very popular Chef that night. After filleting and dividing the fish, she came back just in time for a little dinner.

As usual, our participants headed back to their boats by about 8:00 pm. This time, the staff was able to unwind at a real bar. We played pool, darts and shuffleboard while we shared a few drinks and some laughs.

Sullivan Bay to Duncanby Landing

All the talk we’d heard the night before pointed toward an early morning departure. The rest of the staff and I were all very hopeful that we would be setting off today. So, when I went to bed I was really expecting that the engines would serve as my alarm clock.

Instead, I woke on my own at about 8:30 am. I can’t tell you how very bummed I was that we would be in Sullivan Bay for one more day, and behind in our schedule by two days. I recognize that with boating, the weather, not the neurotic event planner, dictates the schedule, but I was so hopeful that the weather would be in our favor and that we would be able to stick to our plans.

I hung out for a while in crew quarters, dreading going up and trying again to contact the different marinas and outfitters that I’ve been working with. I stayed below for a good while, cleaning up my area and dilly-dallying, not too anxious to start my day. When I finally came up at 10:00 am, I was informed by the captain and first mate that rather than being stuck here all day, it looked like we would actually be leaving at 10:30 if the upcoming weather report was favorable. I attended the skipper briefing to hear the verdict. It was positive we would be leaving between 10:30 am and 11:00 am.

I headed directly to the restaurant, got online and sent a message to our next two destinations, letting them know our most up to date schedule. Then I went back to Sanctuary to help stow the final items and pull in the fenders (Chef calls them boat balls) when we left the dock.

The next task was to don the wristband, down ginger pills, ginger beer and candied ginger, and cross the fingers in an effort to keep seasickness at bay.

We were underway before 11:00 am. As we headed out the seas got choppier and choppier. Captain called the waves “mashed potatoes” because they were coming from all different directions and had no set rhythm. Chef and I were getting very nervous, especially when the Captain explained that this was not the rough part. We were both gripping the cushions of our seats as the boat rocked and rolled over the rough seas. Chef was threatening to curl into the fetal position and shake if the seas didn’t get better soon.


After about an hour of that, we turned sharp to the left and suddenly nature was working in our favor. The wind was behind us and the waves seemed to cruise right along at the same speed as our boat (about nine knots). Chef and I were so grateful. Almost instantaneously, the seas were with us and the clouds parted and the sun came out.

It was at about this time that Chef’s huge variety of seasickness meds kicked in, and she about passed out into a nap. I downed more ginger.

The seas stayed calm for a few more hours until we rounded Cape Caution and cruised through a squall. The seas got pretty choppy at this point. We had 40+ knot winds that thankfully were coming from behind us. The waves weren’t too bad; the highest we saw was estimated to be about five feet. That only lasted for about an hour and then the squall passed.

I learned later that while our boat was rocking and rolling in closer to the shore, the boys on the bar had taken a path much farther out to sea, and had a close encounter with a whale. They were shocked when 50 yards in front of their boat, a huge object suddenly appeared directly ahead of them. They were further shocked when the huge mass moved through he water, showing its massive body and dramatically flicking its massive tail. The boys ran for the cameras and kept their eyes on the water, but the whale did not resurface.

Once the seas grew calm I took advantage of the peace to take a nap. I slept for about an hour and then woke to bright sun shining on the marina we were headed to. I was so happy to see that marina and even happier to know Sullivan Bay was behind us. It seems that my ginger treatments and Captain’s strategic cruising allowed me to cross what is expected to be our roughest waters without hurling. I was very grateful.

We arrived at about 5:00 pm, and I jogged up the dock to the restaurant to be sure that the dinner that I had planned (to happen two days earlier) was still possible for the night. The incredible crew at Duncanby Landing was on it, and they pulled together a great BBQ dinner without a hitch. The BBQ was really well received and Chef was glad for a night off – she was still pretty well gorked from all her seasickness meds.

Just as the dinner got started, the rain let loose and continued to pour down throughout the rest of the night, sometimes in light sprinkles, sometimes in incredible downpours.

I stopped in at crew quarters to grab my computer and found that a small waterfall was filling our cabin with water. Actually, I think a majority of the water found its way directly INTO my new rubber boots (hope I won’t need those anytime soon). I tried monkeying with the door – I thought perhaps I hadn’t closed it properly, but nothing I could do would stop the water pouring in. I had to go to the bar and request the help of Mr. Fix-it (aka Fran). As always, with a little grin on his face and without a word of compliant, he immediately came to our aide. He donned his body length raincoat and set about assessing the door. As luck would have it, the sky waited until precisely this moment to let loose. Fran was working on our hatch in a torrential downpour. Whenever he would lift his arm to make an adjustment, rainwater would pour into his sleeve and run down his arm to his side. Needless to say, he got a little soggy during the fix-it session. He found that a screw was missing and quickly replaced it then put in a temporary gutter-type contraption over the top of the door to try to deflect the water away from our hatch. It worked great last night and we stayed dry. I hope it will hold for the rest of the trip.

After dinner, there was a skipper meeting. The group agreed to adjust the schedule some. I’ll need to make some calls tomorrow to try to reschedule my bear sanctuary trip, and to cancel another trip that I’d arranged for a visit to Klemtu, a First Nations community. I’m hopeful that it will all work out. The night ended wonderfully with the guys at the bar, talking some and listening some as the rain came down.

Sullivan Bay Day Two

Early morning came and went with no departure. Once again, Chef and I woke on our own rather than to the sound of roaring engines. Early in the trip, I dreaded those engines, as they often came at about 5:00 or 6:00 am when I was deep asleep. Now that we are officially behind schedule, I’m sad to wake on my own.

Once again, the weather predicted rough seas, so the group decided to stay put for another day. People were great about making lemonade out of lemons. Sanctuary loaded 20 or so people on board and traveled to a nearby area for a beautiful hike to a mountain lake. Margo Wood, another resident on Sanctuary who knows this area inside and out, spoke to the group about places to visit beyond Wrangell, or on their return from Wrangell. And one boat organized a cocktail (or docktail) party. Everyone turned out with drinks and snacks and had a blast.


I stayed back at Sullivan Bay during the hike and tried to connect with the three marinas we are scheduled to visit next. Only one returned my email and confirmed that they received my message. So, I’m hoping that the others also got the word.

Chef had requested some groceries from a store on another island, and those were delivered today right after the hike. Chef was loaded up with about 15 Ibs of chicken, which she hopes will last her until the end of the trip.

Chef made an amazing dinner after the docktail party and we were joined by the guys from “the bar” for the meal. After we ate, we headed back over the “the bar” to watch a movie. Just as we arrived there, one of the locals Leesha came by and sat with us for an hour or so and chatted about the area. Leesha was Chef’s grocery contact, so Chef was very pleased to see her.

After the movie, we headed back to crew quarters and once again stowed everything in anticipation of (and with hope for) an early morning departure.


This is the staff's typical state of being (from the left, Fran, Chef and Buck).

Sullivan Bay

Before going to bed the night before, Chef and I had been instructed to make sure that everything in our cabin was properly stowed, battened and otherwise secured. Crossing the Queen Charlotte Strait was to take us out into the open ocean. Depending upon the strength and direction of the winds, we could be in for a rocky ride. Chef and I were pretty nervous about getting seasick, and downed a few ginger pills before going to bed.

We’d been told that the Captain would listen to the weather report at 4:00 am, and there would be a Skipper Briefing at 4:30 am. At that time, a decision would be made about whether or when we would cross the Strait. Chef and I stayed sleeping in our cabin, knowing that we’d be awakened once the engines got fired up. We were very surprised when we woke at 8:00 to see sunlight coming in from the light up on our hatch.

The 4:00 am weather report called for 10-foot swells in the Strait. That was enough to call off the early morning departure. Everyone headed back to bed, and it seems that no one was really up until about 10 am. The group has been moving along pretty quickly, and the early morning starts were really taking it out of all of us, so the weather day ended up being appreciated by everyone.

Our hosts at Sullivan Bay have been very gracious. They had just opened a new restaurant this season (we were their first guests). They had expected us to stay only one night, but when they learned that we wouldn’t be pushing on, they did all they could to pull together breakfast and dinner for the group. They also let us use their facility to host a few seminars. Fran, the Service Director, took numerous questions from the participants on boat maintenance and fixes. The man of our boat spoke on health related issues. After the seminars, there was another Skipper meeting with a review of the weather. At that time, we were told that there it was a less than 50% chance that we would be leaving Sullivan Bay the next morning.

This is when I started getting nervous. We’d built in a weather day (it was actually schedule for the day after our crossing) so if we left the next day, I’d still be on schedule. If we got stuck again the next day, I’d be behind by a day and would need to connect with all of the marinas and event coordinators and reschedule everything.

I still needed to connect with the marina we were supposed to arrive at that day to let them know we would not be showing up that night (I had a BBQ scheduled). I picked up my cell phone to call, and had no coverage. I tried using the boat’s satellite phone – but all the great minds on our boat couldn’t get it working. I tried using one of our participants sat phone, but the numbers didn’t seem to work. I tried using the Vonage phone of our hosts. I got through, but couldn’t understand a single word being spoken on the other end. I think they could hear me but I couldn’t be sure. I tried the sat phone of another participant, but ended up getting voicemail. I left a detailed message and asked them to email me if they got the message. I also found out that wireless had just been installed in the new restaurant. I was able to send email to the marina, but never got a confirmation mail back. I hope they got the message, and didn’t end up cooking those 50 hamburgers.

That night, everyone was tired, including Chef. We decided to take her out to dinner at the restaurant. She needed a break. The dinner was actually pretty tasty and it was nice to relax. Chef didn’t have to work and I didn’t have to do any dishes.

After dinner, Chef and I went over to “the bar” and watched a movie. The guys have so much space over at their place. We were trying to encourage them to go sleep in crew quarters for a night so that we could sprawl out in a huge bed and actually stand up straight in the cabin. The nicest perk was that both of us could actually stand up and move about the cabin at the same time. We weren’t able to convince the guys to swap cabins, and we headed back to the hole and re-stowed and battened in anticipation for the early morning departure.

Lagoon Cove to Sullivan Bay

Chef and I were pleased to be able to sleep until 8:00 am before we left Lagoon Cove. The cruise to Sullivan Bay was expected to last only four hours, with no special obstacles expected along the way. Since we had an easy day, the participants on our boat agreed to make a side trip to a deserted Indian village (I’m sorry, I don’t remember the name). It is the same village that was described in The Curve of Time, where the main character found jewelry that had once been warn by the Indian dead. The bodies had been “buried” in the trees, and as they decayed, the jewelry fell to earth.

Just as we arrived at the village, another group from the Tour was loading into their dinghy, headed back to their boat. They warned us to make a lot of noise during our walk, as they had come across very fresh (i.e. still warm) bear scat during their hike around the island. Well, I can tell you, that got our party pretty energized. We agreed to go ahead with our walk, but we first put the dog on a leash and then found an old coke can on the dock and stuck a few pebbles in it and shook it like we were mixing martinis the whole walk.

The village is quickly being reclaimed by nature, and won’t likely be there much longer. The path was nearly overgrown and we had to fight berry bushes throughout our walk. The old abandoned houses, coupled with the bear warning and the large number of bear droppings along the path had me on edge.

The village must have been beautiful in it’s day. There was this fantastic, huge table still standing that faced the most beautiful view of little islands. There was an old house that was still in pretty good shape and must have been lovely in the day. There was also an old, much larger building that had likely been a hospital or a school at one point.

Chef went forging and found some nettles. She got some burns on her hands, but managed to fill a bag full with nettles. I found an old lilac bush, and pulled off a few branches. Later, Chef used the nettles to make tea (she had a sore throat that morning and was sure it would help fix her up) and sushi. Both were great. When I got back to the boat, I got the lilac into water and the boat has been smelling wonderful for the last 24 hours.

Our walk didn’t very long, and we turned back and headed to the dinghy and then back to the boat. A short time later, we arrived in Sullivan Bay just as the rain really started pouring down. Grand Banks had generously gifted all of the participants and staff on the trip with great Gortex jackets, and they came in handy when we pulled up to the dock.

Sullivan Bay is a very special town. It’s actually a floating town of about 15 to 20 buildings – all floating and connected one to another with floating, wooden walkways. They have a very small, but pretty well stocked store. I guess that statement is relevant. A few days ago, we made a stop at Refuge Cove and hit the store (conveniently open from 1:00 pm – 3:00 pm). There was not a vegetable or dairy product to be found. There were a few cases of some no-name beer, some chips, candy bars and fishing gear and that was about it. The Sullivan Bay store actually had a few bananas, some broccoli and cauliflower, along with some peanut butter and other such items and a pretty well stocked liquor store.

Chef and I hit the store and stocked up on booze and broccoli. Later, Chef turned the broccoli into soup and it was incredible. The lady of the boat approached a fisherman who had just arrived in Sullivan Bay and was cleaning some halibut. She managed to buy a good 10 lbs, that Chef later turned into an amazing meal.

We were scheduled to leave Sullivan Bay very early in the morning as we had a very long (eight hour) trip that would carry us through the open ocean. On the ocean, if the weather isn’t in your favor, you don’t go. In the evening, we’d heard that there was a possibility of bad weather. The skippers agreed to listen to the weather report at 4:00 am, then have a meeting and decide at that time if they would take the cruise or not.

Chef and I went to bed early in anticipation of waking to the engines at 4:30 am.

Shoal Bay to Lagoon Cove

It was 5:00 am when we left Shoal Bay. There was a bit of excitement from the participants as they tried to wake the guys in “the bar”. Eventually, the newest arrival to the boat was roused but had to skipper the boat in pajamas and slippers. Things did not start well for the guys, because just after they pulled away from the dock, their dinghy broke free and was floating along behind them. They were alerted by radio and were able to round it back up.

We left Shoal Bay early to hit Greene Point Rapids at slack tide and later, Johnstone Straight - known for it’s blowing winds that tend to develop later in the day. Again, thanks to good planning on the part of the skippers, the trip was uneventful.

Some of the participants saw bear along the water as we were cruising, but we didn’t see any from Sanctuary. We did see a few bald eagles on the way.

The weather changed this morning, and the day was very misty and cool. The mist was beautiful as it hung over the tops of some mountains and wound around others.

We arrived at Lagoon Cove Marina around noon and were met by Bill, the very warm and charming owner of the marina. He absolutely fits the image of a remote island marina owner, right down to his salt-crusted captains hat.
In the afternoon, Chef led a cooking class on sushi preparation. She got very competitive when she learned that the participants from Japan were going to be bringing sushi to the potluck later in the night. Chef cracked me up, pretending to take to competition so seriously; as though she was going to be on an episode of the Iron Chef. After her class had been taught, and the sushi presented side-by-side at the potluck, Chef was deemed (by the two of us who cared) as the winner. Our ruling was confirmed when Nori, who had prepared the sushi, approached Chef and said “your sushi is so pretty. It looks much better than mine.” That was enough to make Chef walk a little straighter for the rest of the day.

The potluck was great. Bill, from the marina caught buckets full of prawns for the feast and he had 35 crabs delivered by a local. Each guest outdid the next with oyster stew, spinach salads, chocolate brownies and lots and lots of sushi of course.

After dinner, Bill shared tale tales of a waterskiing bear and bear who bit into his gas line. He had the group in stitches, but the night was cool, and the mosquitoes started coming out, these factors along with the early start caused our participants to head in to bed around 8:00 pm.

Chef had experienced her first case of seasickness that day, so we headed out for a walk on terra firma and the boat’s dog, Cinnamon, joined us. It felt good to walk around and enjoy the quiet area.

Chef was exhausted that night. She’d been going since 5:00 am and the cooking classes really take a lot of energy. I’d been able to sneak away for a nap while she led the class but by the time the class ended, I could tell she was exhausted. So by 9:00 we headed down to the hole. We put on our pjs and watched a DVD of Grey’s Anatomy – it was the perfect little slumber party.

Our slumber party got me thinking about friendships and how they form. I find that as I get older, I don’t make fast, deep friends like I did when I was in high school and college. But in the week since we’ve been sharing a cabin I feel like I’ve formed a friendship with Chef that will last a lifetime. There really must be something to all those friendships formed at camp and in dorms. Something about living in close proximity and sharing an important life event creates immediate and lasting bonds. Chef and I have decided this trip really is very similar to camp (at least for us) with “the girls” down in crew quarters, and “the boys” over at “the bar” and our camp director on the lookout to see that we don’t mingle too much.

Desolation Sound to Shoal Bay

Today we got to sleep in. The team really needed it, as we’ve been running on 3-6 hours of sleep a night. It was wonderful to sleep until 9:00 am, and then get up and enjoy fresh baked scones and fruit, prepared by our beloved chef. We sat at the front of the boat in the sun, eating breakfast and taking in one of the most incredible views imaginable. Desolation Sound, and the area we anchored, Prideaux Haven is unbearably beautiful.

We set out at 10:30 am, again with calm seas and sunny, warm weather. Along the way, we sailed up close to a waterfall and had a photo op. We considered stopping to take in a one-hour hike to a swimming hole, but decided against it when the captain realized we needed to hit some rapids at low tide and the side trip might screw up our timing. We continued on and hit the rapids at the perfect time – it didn’t even seem like a rapid at all. We were joined for a short while by porpoises. We saw a dozen sea lions lounging on a rock, and have see an equal number of eagles hanging out in the trees.

Just a short while after be passed through the rapids, we pulled into Shoal Bay. What a treat Shoal Bay is. It is a beautiful, grassy area bay with a half dozen buildings (and an equal number of residents). It once house 5000 people (most were loggers). It was a pretty complete little town in the day with a post office, store and brothel. Now, there are only a few ramshackled old houses, and four or so new buildings erected by the new owners. The owners have been hacking away at the vines and weeds that have come in over the decades and reclaimed the land. Recently, they uncovered a small old shack that was still in pretty good shape. The fenced it in and have turned it into a chicken coop. The lodge and restaurant or completely off the grid, and a bulk of their energy is solar. In one section of the newly reclaimed land they’ve planted a garden surrounded by a 10-foot high fence to keep the deer out.



I’d arranged to have a crab feed at Shoal Bay and it was a huge hit. They’d baked fresh rolls, caught 80, yes 80 Dungeness crab for our feast (for 50 people) prepared three different salads and a cake. They had a full bar and the most gorgeous view. The participants were very happy.

Pender Harbor to Desolation Sound

At 7:00 am, we left Pender Harbor and began our trip to Desolation Sound. I’ve been so excited to get to the area. I’ve been reading different books (Curve of Time, Passage to Juneau, Spillsbury’s Coast) about the area in preparation, and all of these authors have been smitten with the area.

The passage from Pender Harbour to Desolation Sound was a bit rough for me. It was the first time I’ve felt any seasickness on the trip. I’ve been taking my ginger pills regularly, and eating candied ginger (that some very dear friends gifted to me prior to my departure) and I’ve been feeling great. When the seas got a bit rough, I felt better after moving to the front of the boat and focusing on one landmark. Thankfully, the seas grew calmer after about an hour when we moved into a more protected area.

As we officially entered Desolation Sound, I saw immediately that all of the hype as merited. Great big mountains fall straight down into the salt water. There is not a house or sign of people as far as the eye can see. I understand that in the high season, the area is just packed in with boats, all dumping their wastewater directly into the coves and bay, which sadly pollute the pristine area they have come to enjoy. But thankfully, during our stop, there were only a few other boats in the area, besides ours. And our boats carry their waste in tanks, so we aren’t dumping straight into the water.

Participants enjoyed the day swimming, kayaking, fishing and crabbing. One participant knows the area very well, and he went by dinghy to a secret spot to collect oysters. Chef held a cooking class on board Sanctuary for ten participants. The two hour class was really well received, and the food that was prepared was a hit at the potluck dinner that was held immediately afterward, as were the oysters that were generously shared by our oyster hunter. The potluck was great and it was really fun having a chance to get to know the participants better. We have such a fun group of really interesting people.

After the potluck, we clean Sanctuary, where the event was hosted, and after everyone went to bed, staff (and our adopted journalist) headed upstairs to work while we shared a bottle of wine and more giggles. Our photographer worked on the pictures that he’d taken, preparing them for the company blog. Chef and I were tickled when we shared the photos we’d taken with the two professional photographers, and they gave us the greatest compliment when they asked us each if they could use the images we had taken on the blog. We tried in vein to get a satellite connection, but were unsuccessful, so finally went to bed very late without posting to the blogs.

Nanaimo to Pender Harbor

This was the day that we would cross the Strait of Georgia, which can be challenging if the winds are up. So we set out early (about 6:00 or 6:30 am) when the seas seem to be the calmest. We were met with perfect, sunny weather, and glass-like seas. One group had a pod of porpoises travel with them for a good 15 minutes, playing in their wake. I had the good fortune to see two porpoises jump once out of the water, but then they stayed hiddedn. Participants said it was one of the best crossings they’d ever experienced.

The weather on the trip is even better than we could have possibly imagined. One of the locals told me that they have had record highs three days in a row – hitting into the 80s each day. Down close to the water, the warm sunshine makes for perfect temperatures. Experienced participants keep reminding me to enjoy it, as this is very atypical weather and cold wet days are the norm for the Inside Passage especially this early in the season.

The trip to Fishermen’s Marina was just a few hours. We pulled in some time between 9:00 and 10:00 am, and had the whole day to enjoy the area. And what a gorgeous area it was. There were great places to kayak or canoe and a few cute restaurants in the area. The staff was given free time to play and we made the most of it. A few of us went out kayaking, and were joined by two very curious seals. One was especially playful and kept nudging our kayaks. It was an incredible thrill for me – and made me miss our dog Harley (the seal looked an awful lot like her).

There was a little burger joint on the island that had internet connection. Most of the staff hooked up there, downloaded email and uploaded blogs. I couldn’t get my (new) computer working properly before I had to head out for an event I’d organized – you may have noticed my lack of postings since the trip began. Well, I can’t blame it totally on the internet connection, because I didn’t have any copy ready to post at that time anyway.

From 3:30-5:50 pm, a naturalist spoke with the group about the different animals and fish we could expect to see on our cruise up the Inside Passage. It was a great talk, and everyone really seemed to like it. After that, I spent some time chatting with different participants, and passing out gifts (each day, we have a gift for the participants which has been an organizational nightmare that I won’t get into here).

Chef prepared another amazing meal that night, despite the fact that the stove has a tendency to trip the breaker every 15 minutes, requiring a reset. The food has been so fantastic and plentiful on the trip, I know I’m going to gain 5 lbs. by the time we are finished.

After dinner, when most everyone had gone to bed, staff got together again to talk and laugh, and watch for shooting stars. The evening get togethers are really becoming one of the daily highlights of the trip for me.

Poets Cove to Nanaimo

Monday brought a tough wake up for Chef and me. We’d heard that we’d be heading out at 6:30 am so we thought that if we got up at 6:00 or 6:15, we’d have enough time to throw on some clothes and get upstairs in time for the sail past.

I didn’t sleep very deeply during the night. I think I was getting used to the movement of the boat and the new surroundings. At about 5:30 am, I heard the dog running around on the deck above us. That was enough to rouse me. I lay in my berth, clearing the cobwebs and finally decided to get up. Our cabin is pretty tight, so we can’t both be up and getting ready at the same time. I decided to go ahead and get up first. I’d grabbed my clothes and had just pulled off my pajama bottoms to change, when someone started pounding at the hatch, then threw it open. I was standing in half the buff, trying to cover myself. The lady of the boat had come down to warn us that we should wake up before the engines got started, as they would be pretty loud. She closed the door, and I sheepishly slipped on my pants and headed upstairs, followed a few minutes later by Chef.

It was such a beautiful morning it was worth the early wake up. The light was just perfect, warm morning light. All the boats were flying 40 ft streamers and they looked festive. The boats lined up in formation, largest to smallest, and we set out for the sail past.

The sail past was surreal. It felt like some Hollywood movie shoot with all the media there taking photos. The photographers were shooting from a seaplane, a helicopter, fast boats, from the land, and even from other boats. It was our moment in the sun, we felt like a bunch of supermodels with all the lenses pointing in our direction. I think the boaters were enjoying watching the media, as much as the media was enjoying the photo shoot.



After the sail past, we began our journey to our next destination, Nanaimo. The journey there was beautiful. We all passed through Dodd Narrows without a hitch. In fact, the water was like glass. The sun was out and it must have been 80 degrees. It took us about two hours to get to Nanaimo, which is a pretty good size city, and also the last major stop for supplies for the next week or more.

First organizational challenge of the day: We had a series of seminars set up for participants. They were meant to start at three and run until six. At 2:30, I got a call from my 3:00 – 4:00 speaker (he is also a participant). It turned out that his dinghy had a substantial problem and he was taking it to the mechanic to get it fixed – right then. I think he’d forgotten that he was meant to teach a class in an hour (ironically, the class he was teaching was on dinghy repair). I called around frantically trying to first find, and then reschedule my other speakers. I managed to get that done, then I had 15 minutes to get to the yacht club where our seminars were being held. I’d expected to go with the gentleman who was now repairing his broken dinghy to our location. It was two miles away, so I couldn’t walk, I ran up and caught a taxi, and got there just after 3:00. When I arrived, my rescheduled speaker was sitting outside alone. I joined him. It turns out; no one was there yet. We decided to wait for a half hour and see if anyone showed up. No one did. It seems that people were really concerned with getting supplies purchased and loaded onto their boats. It actually worked out all right for the speaker and me (he also works for the company) as we had plenty of work to do.

Second Organizational Challenge of the Day: a few hours after we left Poets Cove, I realized that I’d left some materials behind. I’d staged some mugs at the dock for our dockside breakfast (which got cancelled). I’d also left a carton of 50 boxes of chocolates in the walk in fridge at the restaurant. I called the hotel (I can’t believe how well cell phones have been working for us on this trip). They looked into sending a fast boat out with the goods to catch up with us – but that option was $800 – more than the cost of the items being transported. The other option was to send them by courier to another location that we’d be stopping at in about a week. Even thought we are sending the materials via courier, I’ve been warned that they may not arrive in time. I’m really hoping they do, because it will be ridiculous if I then have to send courier them again to another location. I’m also worried because it has been so warm here (in the 80s) that when they do arrive, they may just be boxes of chocolate blobs. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

At 6:00, all the people loaded up onto their dinghies or the water taxi and we headed over to a floating restaurant called the Dinghy Dock Pub. It is a cute place, where almost every item on the menu is fried. The highlight of the night was having the folks from the sail past rejoin us. They passed out awards to those individuals that really stood out during their salute. The best-dressed participants received a bottle of salad dressing. The offender award went to a family that apparently showed a good deal of their back end during their salute, they received an old fender.

After dinner, we floated on back to the harbor and to our boats. We finished up some details from the night and prepped for the next night. Then, the staff joined together when our leader (who has recently been given the stage name Buck Naked by Chef who likes to project people’s privacy in her blog) asked us for some help coming up with copy for the first page of the Grand Banks blog. The conversation started out very seriously as we shared ideas for tone and content, but within about a half hour, it completely devolved into hours of one liners, jokes and put downs. We were all running on fumes, and were punch drunk. It was the kind of laughing that makes you cry and makes your stomach hurt. Somehow, Buck got his copy written and posted that night, and it sounded very good.

Radio Silence

Well, the trip is well underway, and you haven’t heard a peep out of me. My only excuse is that I’ve been insanely busy since the tour started.

Saturday
Saturday was a great day. Aaron and I were up before the crack of dawn, packed up the car and headed to Roche Harbor. The weather was amazing, a bright, warm sunny day. There were over 100 Grand Banks boats in the marina. It was great to walk around the area with Aaron and introduce him to people that will be on the trip. He got a tour of Sanctuary, and got to visit crew quarters (or as Becky and I have come to call it “the hole”).

An aside about “the hole”: You can enter “the hole” one of two ways. The first route takes you through the engine room between the huge twin engines. But when those two 1000 HP engines are running, you don’t want to be anywhere near that room. It is a bit like standing directly under a plane as it takes off. The second entrance is through a hatch (a door) located on the main deck of the boat. You open the door, and descend a ladder straight down into our little lair. There are two windows in our room, each about 7” circumference. One looks out over a beautiful vista that we call the engine room, the other is up the ladder shoot, in the hatch. So, if you stand at the bottom of the ladder and look up, you can see light. When the lights are off in the cabin, “the hole” is as black as night (and our companions wonder why we don’t rouse until the engines get started each morning).

After the tour of the boat, we met up with our friends and had a good cruise around the harbor in their dinghy then had lunch on the sunny deck overlooking the water. Later that night, we dragged Chef along to a great dinner at Duck Soup Inn. Chef and Aaron were cracking me up. They were smelling every little herb and sprout and holding deep discussions with the server about each item. It was fun to see them truly enjoy every aspect of their meal. Then it was back to our rooms to bed.

Sunday
I woke up on Sunday with a lump in my throat. It finally hit me that I was leaving Aaron for three weeks. This was the day that I’d get on the boat and leave Aaron alone to take care of the dogs and himself for the next 19 days. Of course, I was also giddy because it would be the start of my long awaited adventure, but it meant leaving Aaron behind, which was the tough part.

Chef, Aaron and I headed down to Sanctuary and stowed (see how I’m learning the boat lingo???) the last of our bags. Then we headed back up to the head of the dock to grab breakfast. All through breakfast, I was so excited and nervous, and just a little sad. I guess I was just really having a case of reality knowing that departure and the start of the trip was less than an hour away.

Aaron walked with us down to the boat, and we hung out chatting and taking photos. When we found out that we were taking Sanctuary over to the dock to fill up gas, Aaron was able to come aboard and cruise with us over to the fuel dock. At least he got to experience ten minutes of travel aboard Sanctuary. BTW: It took a good 20 minutes (and $250) to top off the boat. And then the moment arrived. Aaron gave me a great hug and kiss (we got busted for macking in public) and he jumped onto the dock.

As soon as we pulled away from the dock, tears started streaming down my face. I was so surprised. I knew I would miss him, but we’ve been apart often before, and the entire “parting is such sweet sorrow fanfare” is generally composed of a drop off at the airport, a quick hug and a kiss and that’s it. No tears, no weeping, no drama. I knew that I would miss Aaron on the trip, but I thought it would take a week or so for the adventure high to wear off and the longing to set in. So, I was rather embarrassed as I clung to the rail of the boat, waving frantically with one hand, and wiping away tears with the other.

I think that Chef was also a little surprised by my, what shall we call it, extravagant emotional display, and she did a great job of cheering me up. She got me to laugh until I could finally get the tears under control.

It only took us about two hours to cross over to Poets Cove Resort on Pender Island, BC. Once we arrived, that’s when my real work started. I unloaded half a dozen boxes and got the gear all set up to greet our guests. Just after noon, people began to arrive. We had a series of seminars set up for the day to help people get their barings and get to know each other. After the seminars, we had a wine tasting and cocktail party, followed by the kick off dinner. The event happened to fall on Mothers Day, so we made a big splash when we had a bouquet of flowers delivered to each of the moms in the room.

The most exciting “change of plans” happened at about 5:00 pm that night. We (the Grand Tour planning folks) had organized a sail past to happen the next day at 8:00 am. For those of you (us) new to boating, my simplistic description of a sail past is as follows: a hosting group of boaters (for example a yacht club) lines up their boats side-by-side in the water. The guest group “sails past” the hosting group one boat after another, and as they sail past the president’s boat, the guest group salutes. It can be a very formal event, with the skipper and crew of each boat decked out in full uniform, complete with starched white pants, pressed blazers, ties, hats, gloves – the whole works.

Well, I’d made all my arrangements around that 8:00 am start time, but the group decided that in order to make it safely through Dodd Narrows, a potentially challenging area, we’d need to change our departure time – to 6:30 am! I spent the next hour or so running around like a headless chicken trying to reorganize. I’d planned a dockside breakfast the next morning, to start at 7:00 am. In order to move the meal up an hour, the restaurant called the chef and other staff to try to get them in earlier. We could get them to come in a half hour earlier, but we couldn’t get them to come in a whole hour earlier. So I had to cancel the breakfast.

A much more significant challenge was reorganizing all of the media. My boss had arranged for a large number of journalists to attend the event. The journalists, in turn, had arranged for helicopters and seaplanes to fly them around for the photo shoot. We ran around to each of the journalists and explained the change of plans. They all got on the phone with the pilots and those plans were all adjusted without a hitch, but not before we shared a mild panic attack.

Then, the news had to be explained to the Canadian boating club that had come to be the sail past committee. They were great sports, and agreed that they would be up by 6:00 am in order to get in formation for the sail past.

With all of our scheduling challenges addressed, we were able to enjoy a really fun night with the participants. Everyone is so excited about this trip. It is starting to feel like a great big floating party.

Chef and I and the rest of the Grand Banks crew were up pretty late that night, settling final details from the night, prepping for the next night and entertaining the media. I think Chef and I probably fell into bed at about midnight for our first night sleep aboard Sanctuary.

Black Friday

Today is Black Friday. You might think of Black Friday as a day in the late 1800s on which there was a great deal of financial panic, or perhaps you associate it with WalMart sales. But no, that’s not the Black Friday I’m talking about.

This Friday, this Black Friday is my fortieth birthday. The day has finally arrived! I can assure you that I haven’t been looking forward to this day. I know, age is in my head and I’m only as young as a I feel and all that good stuff (by the way, three weeks ago, I started working out with a personal trainer, and I’ve been so stiff and sore that I can assure you, I’m feeling my age).

But there is something about forty that really gives a girl reason to pause. That number just seems so much older than I feel. As I was growing up, that was always the number I associated with a grown up, a “mature adult”. And I still can’t see myself as a mature adult. I still feel like a (stiff) young person. But forty, like 21 is such a landmark birthday. It is one a person needs to stop and notice.

At least I have the good fortune of being able to celebrate my fortieth in the very best possible way. At noon, I’ve set up a 1 ½ message for myself (see ‘stiffness associated with personal trainer’ above), my darling husband bought tickets for Cirque du Soleil tonight. Anyone who knows me knows I’m absolutely nuts about Cirque du Soleil- NUTS, not-right-in-the-head-crazy for Cirque du Soleil. And they just happen to be performing here in Seattle. Such amazing luck. After Cirque, we will go out for a late dinner at some delicious restaurant downtown, then home to bed.

The next day, we will head out early to go to Roche Harbor. Then on Sunday, the Grand Tour begins and I’m on a beautiful yacht for a three week trip up the Inside Passage. Now how could a person have a more incredible start to forty? Am I not the luckiest grown up ever?

Changing my Religion

With the start of the trip just a few days away, I thought it would make just SO much sense if I converted from a PC to a Mac today. Actually, I decided about a month ago that I wanted to take a laptop computer with me on the trip. At the time, I only had a desktop PC that I was using for my business. My husband is a dyed-in-the-wool Mac user and it has killed him that we’ve had different systems in the house as long as we’ve lived together (maybe it has just killed him that I don’t use a Mac). Anyway, when the new duo core came out, he saw a way to ease me back to the Mac. He worked and worked on me, and I have finally relented. Not that I don’t think that Macs are great, it’s just that I’m used to my PC now AND, PC are substantially less expensive than Macs. But I allowed myself to give in to the beauty of the Mac.

About three weeks ago, I bought my new Mac (a MacBook Pro, for those of you who care about such things). I slowly started setting up the computer and migrating documents over the last couple of weeks. I’ve been dreading the migration of my mail from Outlook to a Mac compatible system. It seems my dread was not without reason; I spent about four hours today trying to bring my contacts and mail messages over from the PC to the Mac. The fix for the contacts was rather simple - not “file/save as” simple – but download Mozilla (with Mozilla mail) export contacts from Outlook into Mozilla, then save them as an ldsomethingsomething file that is recognized by Mac Mail. Then I was able to export the contacts from Mozilla and import them into Mail.

That only took about 1 ½ hours to do. But with my success, I was feeling confident. I then decided to import my message (related to the tour) from Outlook into Mozilla mail. That worked like a charm, but when I tried to export the mail messages from Mozilla to a file that I could import into the Mac Mail, I found that Mozilla did not provide an export option and there was absolutely no help info on the site to guide me.

I tried sending all of the messages to myself as attachments in a mail message (found that suggestion online), but that made the message too big and my service provider wouldn't allow me to send the large message. I suppose I could have tried breaking the messages up into smaller groups and sending them that way. But I just decided to wing it. I believe that I have all of the relevant details that I need for the trip printed out and sorted into my folders by day and venue, and I have a huge (7 page) contact list with all my vendors and venue contact numbers and addresses. I really should have everything I need. If I don’t, I can’t imagine that an email is going to help me out.

So, starting on Saturday, I’ll be a full time Mac user. It is so exciting and should lead to greater marital bliss.