Smith Inlet - Part VII

6:50 am Saturday morning. True to form, Rob and I have all our gear and suitcases lined up at the end of the driveway, waiting for the parents to pick us up at 7. 6:55 am the parents arrive, also true to form. Meanwhile, poor cousin Jason is looking on with annoyance while he tries to figure out how to squeeze nine people and all their crap into a Dodge Caravan. As we pulled away from the curb, it looked like the latest attempt was to tie things to the roof.

Since we were in good shape to make the ferry, and had a reservation, I managed to talk my dad into stopping for coffee. We ended stopping at a gas station, because coffee shops along side the road on the upper island are few and far between. Cousin Anje was riding back to Seattle with us and in addition to coffee, we picked up our favorite Canadian candy bars too. I went with a Coffee Crisp, having already tried my childhood favorite, Smarties, earlier in the week (which was sadly disappointing, I think they’ve changed the recipe).

We made the ferry with an hour to spare. After having already been in the truck for about five hours and still having hours to go, I walked up and down the ferry terminal to kill time. I was also keeping an eye out to see if the cousins made this ferry. A couple of them needed to be in Vancouver that afternoon and the way the packing situation looked when we left, making this ferry would be iffy.

Finally, with about 20 minutes to spare, I saw a van drive in with stuff tied to the roof. Obviously the relatives had made it. Which was great because the ferry ride is always much more fun with cousins to hang out with for the two hour crossing. First things first once we boarded the ferry . . . fries with vinegar and gravy. I really don’t understand why I can’t order this in the States. This time, Dad had promised to buy everyone who made the ferry a Nanaimo Bar, so I got to keep my $2.29. Which yes, is overpriced because I can make an entire pan of them for less than $10. But a Nanaimo Bar on the ferry is tradition.

My favorite moment on the ferry was when the little cousins were using Rob and I’s iPods to play games. Here is how the funniest conversation of the entire trip went:
Ocean: Heidi, may I play your iPod with Joeleigh?
Heidi: Are your hands clean?
Ocean: Yup, I licked ‘em! (while holding them up for inspection)
Hard to argue with that logic.

Once off the ferry, and a brief stop at the duty free store to stock up on cheap booze, we made it across the border with a short wait and minimal hassle. The Americans are always slightly tougher. And after a few more hours, we had reached the end of our destination, and were safely back in Seattle. I was sitting on the couch with Anje, waiting for her hubby to come pick her up and all the sudden I felt like I was moving again. “Are you still rocking?” I asked her? “Oh good, I was afraid it was just me and I didn’t want to say anything!” she responded. Turns out Rob’s house really rocks like a boat when doing the dishes. So I only did that once. The rocking was completely gone by Monday.

Perhaps the most amazing part about this trip was the fact that there aren’t a lot of other families that could have done this. My family is incredibly unique in that we not only all get along, but we enjoy spending time together and do is as frequently as possible. Even in very small spaces with large numbers of us. Also nice is the fact that we all realize how special what we have is. My cousin’s wife jokes that she didn’t necessarily want to marry him, she just wanted into the family. Since I see her much more frequently than I see him, I think she’s only mostly joking.

I still can’t believe that after years of talking about doing this trip and after about a year of getting organized, it is already over. We would all do it again in a heart beat, but it’s likely that this was a once in a lifetime adventure. I’m so glad that I had the opportunity to see where my dad and aunties grew up, to walk where they walked (or boated) as children, and to spend time where my grandparents did. I loved hearing the stories about my Grandma Hazel, who I never had the opportunity to know. To see pictures of the old GMG camp and then to be looking out over the water where it used to be was incredible. Listening to the stories about camp and their parents from the siblings. Listening to the letters that my grandpa wrote to my grandma, asking her to marry him. It’s one thing to know your history and understand where you came from. It’s entirely different to get to experience it first hand. Smith Inlet was quite an epic adventure . . . one I’ll never forget.