Disappointment comes from unrealistic expectations. All too often though, we don't know our expectations are unrealistic until after the disappointment. Case in point: what were we thinking in imagining we might treat ourselves to ice cream in Cortes Bay?
We entered the bay through a narrow channel at low tide early on Sunday afternoon. The book recommends we anchor at the northwest end of the bay, near the Royal Vancouver Yacht Club dock or the SE end of the bay near the Seattle Yacht Club dock, depending on the prevailing winds. We chose the former, expecting northwesterlies. It also advised setting the anchor well because the mud is so soft. Having an oversized Rocna anchor served us well and it set easily.
Deploying the dinghy and outboard, to say nothing of gearing up (changing shoes, grabbing hats, an extra layer, cameras, water bottles, a light, oars, security cable and lock, pfd,s) is always an exercise in protracted futzing. After a mis-start or two, we are eventually motoring along a wandering line from the boat, having no real clue where we are going.
In the case of Cortes Bay one reference book, written in the late eighties, reported a small store. Surely by now that has become a supermarket, Mexican restaurant, and Thai massage parlor. Such was the state of our inflated expectations. Granted, there was nothing to indicate services of any kind on shore, but such was commonly the case, whether present or not. We were convinced that something would present itself in the light of determined recon.
As it turned out, there were no services of any kind unless you count a public dock. We hiked from the dock to the highway and back to stretch out legs, then talked to a gentleman at the dock and learned there is a store one bay to the east in Squirrel Cove, but "it's only open on weekends." So much for our dreams of an ice cream sandwich. Or three.
Ice cream or not, it's a quiet little bay with plenty of room.
(Written by Rod Mercer)
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