Sunday, May 30, 2010

25, first half

Cindy was kind enough to pay us with some money, as well as shelter and food for our work, so after getting dropped off in the middle of town, we had breakfast and a cute cafe. The orange carrot soup was awesome. While Steph was attempting to make a call at a pay phone, I decided to throw my hat and some change down while picking the banjo, within thirty seconds I was rewarded handsomely, another moment after that steph was done on the phone and we started cruising down the highway towards the ferry. The rain was a bit troublesome on the banjo, but it was warm outside, so a sweatshirt wrapped it up nicely. No one was picking us up at that point, but the cruise was every so lovely, before we knew it the ferry was in sight and we had an hour to hang out before departure. We swapped stories and watched a child with dreadlocks run wild. Picking some tunes in the waiting room, approving glances and nods abounded. It was a quick ride of 45 minutes to horseshoe bay; while sharing a smoke we saw some porpoises and a older native guy with the word “elder” embroidered on his jacket. Getting off the ferry, we found out we could have bought tickets for the next on on the boat, but instead we walked all the out the terminal to purchase the tickets. I caught an internet signal at a local coffee shop and got the news that the album I recorded last month being carried along in post production. Then we had the notion to try and cook a steak I pilfered (it had been sitting out for a day) from around a camp fire. Our plan was to build a fire and cook the steak in the forty five minute window we had before the next ferry. Racing down a nearby path we found a suitable spot and began to burn a newspaper and some sticks, the fire got quite hot fast, but the sticks were all wet and refused catch. After a few attempts a blowing into and rebuilding the make shift fire, we abandoned the idea. Strolling down the gangway to the boat a slightly smart allecky gentleman commented that the boards should be ridden and not dragged, dodging the pedestrians we rode, striking some notes on the banjo got a big thumbs up. After tracking down a microwave in the sitca lounge, I popped in the steak and cooked it at three minutes a side. The flavor was more or less zapped out, but it was still pretty tasty, especially with the mounds of condiments acquired from the local cafeteria. A young fellow from a small town in Ontario talked to us about his job as a commercial diver, mostly taking dead fish out of nets in at fish farms. The week on week off schedule allowed him to travel all around, being based in Tofino, a spot I need to get to pronto. We also met a young traveler named Lynx with a beautifully painted leather jacket, colored nails, and white dread locks. We chatted about mind expanding drugs, dumpster diving, sweat lodges, busking and carving spoons out of wood. Apparently a carved knife is needed for such an endeavor, luckily he’s into black smithing as well.

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