Comox, British Columbia
0630: 5.6 kilometer walk from Comox to designated parking lot in Courtney to catch shuttle from Courtney/Comox to Nanaimo.
0840: Boarded shuttle
1045: Ferry from Nanaimo to Horse Shoe Bay, north of Vancouver
1230: Number 257 bus to downtown Vancouver. Allowed on by driver despite having incorrect and insufficient change.
1300: Decended underground in central Vancouver to catch a train to the airport.
1400: After having ridden the wrong line for a stop and at long last finding the correct line the airport appeared.
1530: After taking with four airport employees, waking the length of both the domestic and international terminals, and one over-priced taxi the Alaska Airlines cargo office is found. It was cleverly disguised as a Swissport office about a quarter mile from the airport. I was handed customs paperwork and told that the office only handles perishables on weekends, but I should try to have the paperwork signed off anyways.
1600: Back at the international terminal in the airport customs office with papers and passport in hand. With the explanation of the race, getting blown out of Johnstone Strait, landing in Comox, and the sincere promise that the engine will be taken immediately out of the country again I emerged from the perishables customs office, blue-stamped papers in hand.
1700: With help from the crew in the cargo office I collected the engine, restrapped it since its rainbow luggage strap went missing in transit, loaded it on the hand trolley I bought in Campbell River and began the long, slow, teetering roll back to the train station. The cargo office helped me carry the engine and its wooden crate down the stairs and sent me off with prefect directions for finding the bus back to Horse Shoe Bay. By this time I was aware that I might be spending the night on the mainland.
1800: The perfect directions got me to the exact intersection and side of the street to catch bus 257 back north. The bus sat there loading evening commuters as I trundled up with my 70+ pound box. At first the driver looked as though he weren't going to let me on. A taxi would have cost over $60 and that didn't appeal. Reluctantly and likely because I looked like I had good control of my giant wooden crate I was allowed on and even given preferential seating with the condition that I keep control of the box at all times.
1830: The hard part done! The final bus ride was my only concern and I was relived as a fellow passenger helped lift the box out of the bus. I declared my "dangerous goods" at the ferry terminal, bought my ticket, and rolled onto the ferry on the same level as the bicycles and cars.
1915: Ferry from HSB to Nanaimo. I was disappointed to realized that the BC Ferries don't sell alcohol on board. Sigh.
2100: Arrived in Nanaimo, found hotel, took taxi, checked in, and for the first time in 11 hours ate. The restaurant next to the hotel offered a discount to hotel guests. I was so hungry I even finished the complementary salad. Chicken burger, 20-ounce local lager and a bloody Mary for dessert.
2230: Sleep
Sunday 23 June
Nanaimo
0800: Alarm. My first thought was, "Alex didn't wake me. Am I suppose to be on watch?" I slept soundly and woke confused. All cleared soon.
0900: Waffles at continental breakfast!
0945: I called the same taxi company as the night before and explained the giant box situation. They sent their wheelchair accessible van and I rolled the whole shebang right into the back. Easiest manoeuvre in two days!
1045: After having booked a "bicycle box" for the shuttle there was plenty of space to load up.
1215: Arrived in Courtney/Comox, called taxi with the request for a big car and was dropped off at the Comox fisherman's wharf with Alex waiting to help unload and roll the box down the dock to Village Girl.
1300: Engine mounted and tank filled, Gerry jugs filled, and VG ready to leave any time. The trolly driver requested refreshment and was treated by the fearless captain Whitworth to a pint.
Arms bruised, belly filled, and the adventure continues.
Our friend Carla said that after the race having our engine will look like the Mona Lisa. We've since dubbed our Yamaha 2.5hp "Mota Lisa."
Home again with Mota Lisa |