Thursday, April 9, 2009

Amazon Adventure # 15. Santa Sighting at Little Harbour.

Girl`s eye view through the tent flap.

Little Harbour was established by a Canadian artist who went WAY back to the Land with his family long before it became ‘normal’ for people like us to do so. We have read his book about his families adventures in the last couple of weeks and have been looking forward to meeting them. First though, we have to speak with ‘Santa’ who arrives bright and early the next morning.

We knew that after the Christmas rush Santa planned to vacation in the Bahamas ( He had told Gwyn that in his Christmas letter) but even so when we were hailed ("Amazon ahoy!") and I stepped out of the tent onto the foredeck the family were amazed to glimpse a rotund, white bearded gentleman bobbing alongside in a little dinghy which was full of colourful ..... water containers. He introduced himself as Dick Stone and asked if we needed water and had any empty containers we needed filling as he was rowing across the bay to the spring. His boat is called ‘Knot Bad’ and is registered in NOME, Alaska. We know that ‘Knot Bad’ really means ‘Good’ and that Nome ( gnome, get it?) is close to the North Pole. Santa is travelling in disguise alright while on holiday but he can`t fool us! ‘Dick’ is close to ‘Nic(olas)’ don`t you think?

From the Journal:
Walked to Mr. Johnson`s studio and found him ready to go to lunch but he turned back and gave us a most interesting tour of his studio and showroom. I liked most of his bronze sculpture very much but some of it ( like death chasing a shacked man with terrified eyes ) I certainly would not want in my house! Mr. Johnson is about 82 but still very spry and interesting.

In the afternoon we hiked across the southern arm of the bay to the ocean beach. The breakers were terrific! We plodded along in the wet sand and hot sun, checking every piece of flotsam and jetsam for possible use and picking up shells. Heather.
‘Every body goin` surfin` USA.’ Not really but we did go snorkeling! We woke up this morning, ate breakfast, then since mom REALLY wanted to go to a beach ( what a laugh) we left for a beach in ‘the Bight’. I steered, we got around the point and headed for a beach. Soon we ran aground about 50 meters off the sandy beach so we had to walk through eel grass and sea-enemies[ sic, totally] and sea urchins and sandy lumps with holes in them. I knew we should n`t go in but mom said we HAD TO , Squish... GROSS!!! Think about it. You are in mud two inches deep and water two feet, there are creatures everywhere ( by the way, there were sea cucumbers too) and the only way across was to walk on the sand lumps and you`d be afraid that whatever was in those holes was going to meet you.
While you were thinking about that, Elaine and I had gotten across to the beach where Dad had found two coconuts and Anne had found Man Friday`s footprints. Mom then went into the woods and found a coconut with a tree growing out of it and came running back chased by mosquitos. Quickly we waded back to the boat, upped anchor and headed to another beach. We cut the coconuts up so we could dry them.

Heather and Gwyn cut up coconuts.

Elaine and I got out the snorkeling gear and paddled around for a bit, then Dad came in to wash off the hair ( mom had cut his looong hair and she had cut Elaine too) I got out and dad taught Elaine how to go underwater and then he tried to teach me ( nooo luck!) . Mom cut her hair and tried the flippers but as she said, " The paddles keep coming up."

We stopped by Santa when we went back to Little Harbour and he said there was a group of boats headed for Royal Harbour that night [they had been waiting for a week or more for the waves to die down enough to get safely out to sea through the pass] so we will go too.
Dad borrowed a bosun`s chair and went up the mast to change the navigation light while us girls held on to Dad`s life!
We then went out to those rolling seas. Anticipation was ahead of us and we were waiting for Puffin, Knot Bad and Whiskers . Finally Puffin and Knot Bad came but Whiskers was n`t so we left out to those rolling seas. Gwyn.

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