Spin-less weekend

The commute home.  In the waterproof
deck bag in the foreground is my spindle.
 I have yet to spindle while kayaking
but you never know.

I just realized that I didn't spin this weekend. Not one twist. Priscilla-the-fleecesless-sheep-that-haunts-the-wool-stash-in-the-guest-bedroom is livid. Apparently I am a traitor. Flighty, fickle, and frivolous. But I was not fibre-less as I tried to point out. I always had my spindle, ready to whip it out and start spinning at the slightest provocation, but it just didn't happen this weekend.

Who could blame me. We hopped aboard a friend's boat and speed off to some Gulf Islands, going through notorious Dodd's Narrows which was running 6 knots against us. No problem in a motor boat but not something sail boats or kayakers would do. Check out the hard to see whirlpool in the picture. A couple of summers ago, I went through Dodds with 25 First Nations war-style canoes. It took us three attempts to finally make it through. Yesterday a First Nations fellow told me of going through in a 11-man racing canoe (very narrow and very tippy) and getting caught in a whirlpool with the stern down in the centre of the whirlpool which can often be a few feet below the surface of the surrounding water. Apparently, the first three or four paddlers in the front were so high above the water their paddles couldn't reach the water. They survived and got through it, but it was scary.  

View from the deck.

Once past Dodd's, off to a friend's cabin to sit on his deck for a picnic, then a cruise between some islands. And all the while, I had my spindle in my back pack. And there it stayed.

Hard to believe we fit through that gap.