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21. Nautical and Nuanced

An exhilarating sail in brisk winds took us on three long tacks across English Bay and into Queen Charlotte Channel. As I adjusted the sails and vane to continue easing Tastevin from close-hauled to a broad reach toward Howe Sound, I looked up at Lorne's smiling face and said, "Not as intimidating as I thought it would be."

He shrugged. "Told you it's easy doing it this way."

"But ballsy of you allowing me to do it."

"No, not at all, Kate. You understand the theory and the process from your father's boat. The principles are no different here. Size doesn't matter."

My mind flashed to Cyclops, then to Nathan's pebbled pickle, and I blew a loud breath. "Size may or may not, but technique certainly does. So much better doing it slowly. We always did it fast – tiller over and scramble on the sheets."

"With our huge sails in this wind, it would be foolhardy to fall off quickly without two or three additional crew."

I gave another pull on the wind vane line and barked the jenny and staysail sheets a few more feet. "Ummm. I prefer it relaxed and in full control like this – similar to the tweaking always necessary after the scramble."

"Indeed." Lorne nodded toward a winch. "When you have us settled on the left edge of Bowyer, I'll show you how to adjust the vang to add more belly to the main. Give us an additional knot or two."

Over the next few hours, we wound our way among the islands, and between alterations and adjustments, we dug into the restaurant review sites, Lorne creating a new spreadsheet on his computer. By the time we were off Kits Point and ready to luff, we had another large list of links for the RCMP geeks to analyse.

As we motored into False Creek, I asked, "Do you ever investigate? Or do you always turn it over to the police?"

"No and yes." He chuckled. "No, my mandate is to represent the criminal code and prosecute alleged offenders. While I can point the police to sources of evidence, I must leave the investigations to them."

"So, you're not jeopardising your position by telling them about our suspicions."

"No, not in the least. But with my bias about this, I'll stand down from being appointed if sufficient evidence is found to bring them to trial."

"Yeah, and if they're charged, they'll likely weasel their way through their polished loopholes."

"Then, we must find ways to prevent them from doing that."

A few minutes later, Lorne pointed to his slip in Quayside. "You take her alongside, Kate."

"What? No!"

"Why not?"

"I'll muck it up."

"You did superbly practising on the float in Plumper Cove."

"With you coaching me."

"The first two approaches, yes. But the next two were all yours."

Four minutes later, Lorne looped the breast line around the bollard and snugged its end to a deck cleat as Tastevin settled to her fenders on the float. "See? Simple."

"Yeah. With you beside me as an emergency backup." I glanced at the time on the bulkhead clock and wrote the log entry.

Then, while I assisted Lorne with the mooring lines, he said, "We've a little under an hour and a quarter. No rush, but neither is there time to dally."

I looked down at my mid-calf smock and chuckled. "It'll take me no time to dress. One of its benefits, I suppose – just throw it over whatever and be ready for the world to not see."