The grey haired man approaching with the wheelbarrow smiled and said, “Hi.” We were on a secluded forest trail and a wheelbarrow didn’t seem too out of place, even though it contained what I believed to be a guitar in a black case. After all, this was Baya Exotica. I turned a few seconds after we passed and looked back. He strode purposefully across the planks that spanned a small creek, his tall body flickered in the sunlight permeating the lush spring foliage. Suddenly he veered off the path and descended a steep dirt track down to the rocky foreshore.
An hour later, as the Vancouver Island’s mountains cast their long shadows deep into the bay, I heard a lonesome melody wafting on the breeze accompanied by a guitar. Not unusual I mused. Only last night I had been entertained by a djembe beating out a jungle rhythm. It appeared to be coming from a group ashore huddled around a fire. And earlier today I was shaken by wild buglings, eerily bounced around by mighty cliffs surrounding the bay, that seemed to come from nowhere. Who are these wonderful people? Where do they come from? Thank goodness there are still some left!
Here in Baya Exotica it didn’t seem to matter that Rainbird was surrounded by a collection of decaying vessels, some already half sunk and one in particular a hazard to navigation. Others were works in progress, or more appropriately, works in regress. With boats, as with other material things in life, entropy always wins.
I had felt the need to be back on the water. This time I was alone except for Maio my faithful Portuguese Water Dog. First Mate, Juliana, departed this world last December. She had fought many battles in her life but she was never going to beat the cancer that invaded her body.
Rainbird was as much her boat as mine and I wondered how I would fare. Would the memories held in her cedar hull be too painful to endure? I’ll admit to being fearful a few days earlier, when I untied Rainbird from her dock and headed out into the brisk southeasterly breeze. But the wind and the sunshine soon worked their magic and quickly settled my mind.
I was heading for Baya Exotica. I love its eccentric charm and always marvel at the surrounding hills and forest, which hold lush hay meadows. With unseasonal spring warmth and sunshine, everything was bursting into life. Birdsong permeated the air. Eagles and ospreys soared and swooped. Seals went leisurely about their business.
I was crossing a meadow with Maio; no houses, no people, no noise. We stood in the brilliant sunshine, feeling fully part of our surroundings. I had to remind myself that it really doesn’t get better than this.
Juliana’s vision and determination to get back in touch with nature led her to Rainbird. She has now gone, but for me, Rainbird is helping me do what Juliana had wanted for us both.
David, I was glad to read your article and see you’re sailing again but very sorry to hear of Juliana’s departure last December. You are in our thoughts. Best Wishes. Richard & Stephanie. Abingdon, UK.