Imagination of remoteness

Snug Harbour, North Channel, Canada. – What eles can make one more sad then finding an imagination meeting reallity? Since beeing a little kid I always dreamed about the remote wilderness of Canada. I imagined myself an explorer, sometimes a bush pilot or whatever. I was hunting on adventures through endless woods over hills and mountains and to a place I admired as a kid as much as I do today. One day I will tip my toe into the Hudson Bay and the hunt will be over. Today its water is only a few hunderet miles away, still out of reach for a sailor. Yet the hunt is not over. I found my way up to the North Channel. What a beauty of sparkeling rock and green foilage. – The first wide impression however was followed by dissapointment: Too close to sweden, too close to home. I laughed later realizing how often I was in Skandinavia saying „This is how I imagene Canada to be“. But the close is getting wider as impressions get closer. It is not what I have dreamed about: Endless woods, uncharted bays to discover; yes. But the hills are smaller than those that were in my mind, a most important detail. And the people are different. Less explorers more refugees. Interesting is to see them on a hunt to escape. Everyone on his way to a place of isolation. – Mostly by poping up in a well known anchorages marked in every guide book. What a waste of time is that effort? While in most of the ancorages I have been to over the past years it was normal to give a short wave to someone who is about to drop his hook next to you. At least neigbours for a night, maybe friends for a part of the cruise. Up here greeting, not mentioning stopping the dingy for a chat, often seems almost to be an insult. A trespassing into a felt remotenes. Like in these cruisers guide books where one is requested to shor curtesy and anchor as far as possible from those cottages that have spread along the shores and conquered almost every island. Best is to hide out of sight behind a corner, ducking under rocks and trees. Curtesy is to feel guily for your existence and do not be a sign of reality to an imaginationed remotenes.