II 
     
    
   
   
    
     Finally, about mid-summer, after some unavoidable delay, I 
     
     dropped everything else and began to make preparations for a quick 
     
     get-away on my trip around the Island. My decision to head east Or 
     
     counter-clockwise was based on the fact that although I would have 
     
     to face the prevailing westerlies along the north shore, the toughest 
     
     part of the trip, I would have the wind behind me on the final run, 
     
     when I expected to be a bit tired. “Hardest things first”. I still don’t 
     
     know whether my decision was right. The first step, one afternoon, 
     
     was to test Tota in three or four feet of water at the shore below Tea 
     
     Hill. Having upset her several times, partly by design, I began to get 
     
     the feel or balance. 
     
    
   
   
    
     The next morning, Saturday — August 4, 1934, my neighbour, 
     
     John Dan MacRae’s oldest boy Don helped me load my equipment 
     
     — food, extra paddle, life jacket, blanket. About 9 am. Bozo and l 
     
     waved good-bye to Don and headed out across Hillsboro Bay for 
     
     Governor’s Island. Bozo turned out to be a good sailor. She would 
     
     look over the side of the canoe for awhile, watching the green water 
     
     flying by (but always careful not to “rock the boat”), and after a 
     
     while he on the bottom of the canoe and doze. 
     
    
   
   
    
     I had rigged a small triangular sail and the wind being from the 
     
     nor-west and favorable, in an hour or so we were within a half mile 
     
     of the Island. Having arrived at a point opposite the west end of the 
     
     Island and the tide and the wind rising, l hauled around, ran before 
     
     the wind, and landed on the East Bar close to the east end of the 
     
     Island about noon. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Proceeding to prepare our “noon-day dish” I discovered a real 
     
     blunder — 1 had forgotten to take any fresh water. Later in the after- 
     
     noon 1 set out to explore the Island. Bozo and I walked all over it. We 
     
     found a number of old farm wells and two or three bored by the 
     
     Henry L. Docherty oil men in 1926. All were foul. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Meanwhile the wind had risen to a strong gale. I decided to camp 
     
     in an old shed and wait till the next day before going on to Point 
     
     Prim. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Our thirst had likewise risen. Strawberry jam helped a little but 
     
     was too sweet to be much good. I brought up a bucket of salt water 
     
     from the shore, heated some in a kettle over a Coleman gas stove 
     
    
   
   
    
     8