Friday, July 17: Day 44: Rain, Fog and then sun at the Amazing Property of the Homestead

🌫️ Morning Fog, Lady Hawk, and the Lonely Bleat

I arose around 7:20 this morning, stepped out into the cockpit, and what do I see? Morning fog and a wet cockpit—it rained off and on all night. The forecast claimed the rain was supposed to stop at 9:00 AM, but it hasn't yet and it is already 11:00 AM!

Fog in the distance. Glad we're staying put today in this rain!

As I was standing there taking in the misty view, I noticed our neighbors on the Beneteau pulling up their anchor. Because they were moving, I finally got a clear look at the rear side of their stern and caught the actual name of their boat: Lady Hawk! Honestly, I think I liked Lady Gaga better. It had such a funny catch to it, especially after their almost-incident yesterday afternoon!

While I was sitting out in the quiet cockpit, I suddenly heard a distinct bleat through the fog. The lonely sheep was back on the hillside, practically beckoning me to take her picture!

I’m going to say it’s a "she"—it's hard to tell from a distance, but the males of this herd usually have horns. These sheep are actually feral, not wild—they are the descendants of domestic farm animals left behind from the island's old homesteading days, completely adapted to living on the rocky terrain.

She sounded so sad, almost as if she were wandering the rocks looking for her friends or her mama. As a mother myself, that mournful little sound really pulled at my heartstrings.

Since she was standing perfectly still and posing for me through the mist, I quickly grabbed my trusty phone and snapped a photo of her. It was just in time, too—she wandered off into the trees right afterward. I think she saw me taking her photo and decided her modeling shift was officially over! She has since been back on the shoreline a few times, making herself known.

Perhaps she's looking for her lambs?

While I'm updating previous posts, here is a photo of our stern tie when the tide was about to change last night:

You can see that the yellow tag is completely submerged now.

I really want to stretch my legs and head ashore for a walk this afternoon, but with the weather looking so iffy, I’ve decided to tackle the spreadsheet beast instead. I'm going to dive back into the 2026-27 TOPS numbers and see if I can get everything a whole lot closer to where I want it to be. Wish me luck—hopefully, the formulas cooperate today!

(Spoiler alert from the future: I've been so busy with this spreadsheet—who knew it could take this long!—that I'm actually finishing up writing this whole post on Day 46. But let's get back to how Day 44 unfolded...)

⛵Afternoon shore Excursion: The Magic of Culver's Homestead

The weather finally gave us a window, so we dropped ourselves into the dinghy and pointed the bow toward the trailhead. As is usually the case out here, the journey itself had a few delightful detours in store.

On our way over, we passed an anchored trimaran. We drifted nearby and struck up a conversation with the couple aboard. After chatting for a while, we had one of those wonderful "small world" moments—turns out we both belong to the Vancouver Island Bluewater Cruising Association (BCA) group—always amazing to run into fellow island cruisers out here! We happily exchanged boat cards before finally continuing on our way. (Artemus, meanwhile, stayed behind to dutifully guard Lil' Ollie). We made a  careful beach landing, scrambled up the shoreline rocks with zero incidents, and finally stepped into the trees.

The dinghy sitting by the shore waiting for us to get back.

Oh, it felt so incredible to be back in the woods. There is nothing quite like the smell of the Pacific Northwest forest—that deep, rich fragrance of Cedar and Douglas Fir wrapping around you as you walk.

You can't mistaken the scent of a PNW forest.

As we moved down the path, we bumped into another sailing couple. They had been anchored right beside us yesterday but had vanished without a word this morning. It turns out they were having a rough time with their stern tie, so they had pulled up stakes and shifted over to White Rock Bay on the other side of the island.

After a quick catch-up, we pushed onward through the trail and came across a rope swing in the middle of the path. Greg couldn't help himself - he had to hop on and go for a swing - I mean after all, this is not an everyday occurrence, right‽

Greg couldn't resist the swing and I couldn't resist snapping a photo of him. 

Just after the swing the path opened up into a gorgeous meadow of long, swaying grasses. There, we crossed paths with a younger couple who belonged to the beautiful wooden motor cruiser that was in our anchorage when we first arrived. They kindly pointed us in the right direction, and we set off for our destination.

Emerging into the meadow.

The lovely tall grasses but watch out, the blades can be sharp!

We finally arrived at the old homestead. There is quite the history about this place—Dan Culver had a hand in getting this place into the hands of BC Parks.

Daniel's memorial plaque

Let me tell you, this was hands-down one of the most beautiful settings I have ever seen in my entire life. If I had the money, and if this property were ever for sale (it’s not, thankfully, as it's protected parkland), I would buy it in a heartbeat. I could so easily picture a life tucked away right there. I snapped tons of photos, though, as usual, I know they won't fully do the magic of this place justice.

The old homestead house, not quite what it was in it's day, but still partly standing.

A beautiful walnut tree in the middle of the gorgeous orchard.

Looking out from the front of the house towards the south east (towards the Georgia Strait). It was an amazing view!

A welcoming bench to sit and meditate or surmise the view.

A pretty snake in the grass near the house.

Another water view more to the east.

Looking out from the homestead, you could see sheep peacefully grazing in the back forty. Down by the shore, a flock of geese stood at the water's edge, suddenly taking off for a beautiful, synchronized test flight in a perfect V-formation before looping back to settle on the exact same spot on the water. It was an incredibly serene, almost mystical moment, and absolutely the highlight of our trip so far.

A gaggle of geese flying from their grazing position into their test position for when they go south.

Landing back where they were before take-off.

Two of the sheep grazing. I wasn't quick enough to get the third one in this photo. I picked this one because of the way the black faced one was looking at me.

Eventually, it was time to turn back. I made the classic mistake of not packing a snack and not bringing quite enough water, so by the time we turned around, I was feeling distinctly hungry and a bit shaky. Needless to say, our pace on the return trip along the path was significantly faster than our stroll on the way there!

We made it back to the boat just after 5:00 PM, having not passed a single soul on the final leg. The weather had been warm and beautiful for our hike, but almost the exact minute we climbed back aboard, the clouds opened up and it started to rain again. Talk about perfect timing.

I immediately raided the galley for a quick bite and a cold drink—nothing a quick granola bar couldn't fix! By the time actual dinner rolled around, neither of us was particularly hungry anymore. We decided to keep things low-key: we poured a couple of beverages, made some popcorn (yes, what else?), queued up an episode of The Resident, and called it a night.

A truly magical Day 44.