Summers were looked forward too during my years as a boy. Read Island was a great place to be in the summer time, but we always looked forward to leaving the island for a few weeks to see family. Off we would go in our small-speed boat, with its 25-horse kicker on the back, to Campbell River. Here we would rent a car and away we would fly at least that is what it felt like to me. I’ll never forget the excitement of getting into a car for the first time each year and the sensation of speed as I watched the power poles streak by. This amazing experience was repeated each year as we left for the inhabited world.
It was not until the early 50’s that the main highway between Campbell River and Nanaimo was paved all the way and what an experience to drive on a road without dust. Nanaimo was not much of a town back in the 50’s but it was here that we caught the old CPR Ferry to Vancouver and that’s when our trip really took off.
With grandparents and 9 sets of aunts and uncles on my mom’s side alone, and dozens of cousins we had a lot of catching up to do, so these summer trips were always a time to look forward too.
It was after one of these glorious summer trips, which were a highlight to my growing up experiences, that my belief in angels was reaffirmed. As with all trips you end up coming home with much more stuff then you leave with. This trip was no exception as besides our family we had Gary Leavens who was now living with us plus all of our luggage. What this meant was that to get everyone home dad had to make two trips from Campbell River to Read Island.
So off dad went, with Gary, I, and most of the luggage. It was about 20 miles from Campbell River around Cape Mudge, Quadra Island’s southern tip and up the east side to Read Island. To speed things up my mom and two sisters, Dawna and Karen, and the remaining luggage went across by ferry and taxi to Heriot Bay on Quadra’s east side, to wait for dad’s return.
We had an uneventful trip over to Read Island but there was a brisk Nor’wester, which is typical of a late summer day, this time of year. After Gary and I had hauled the luggage up from the float to the house we did not have much to do but wait for dad to return. The afternoon slowly seeped away with not much to worry about, as we knew it would probably take them more than a few hours to return. It was quite late in the day and close to nightfall, when we saw the big tugboat that usually towed dad’s logs to town, come round the point and into Bird Cove Bay. This did not relieve our worry or satisfy our concern for something to eat, as we were both pretty hungry by now.
Our worry however turned to relief and puzzlement when at last the tug tied up to our float and dad pokes his head out of the pilothouse, followed by my mom and then my two sisters. And even stranger still, why was our speedboat on the deck of the tug? We were soon to hear the full story as it took only a moment for the tugs crew to unload our boat and get ready to leave. Dad thanked the Captain and crew profusely for what they had done and now it was our turn to hear the rest of the story.
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