We just got back from a couple of weeks of cruising up the East side of Georgian Bay.
As some may remember our original plan of heading up to the North Channel was aborted by
certain events.
Anyhow, the sail is repaired, the
dinghy motor running and we are back to 'normal'.
As I said: we have been cruising around the East Side of Georgian Bay. This, at this time of year, has to be one of the busiest fresh-water boating areas in North America. Between we cruisers (of which we are legion - power and sail); cottagers going to and fro; recreational boaters out for the day; tour boats; PWC's; water-skiiers (wakeboarders); kayakers; canoists; amphibious planes; etc. etc. etc.
Why is it that most people feel inclined to wave at passing fellow boaters?
Almost every vessel we passed - from stand-up paddle board to 70' Sunseeker - gave a wave from cursory to full-blown vigourous.
Why?
We're not in a parade. We don't know these people. What's the point? Is it because of the perception that we are all mariners and have something in common? Bollocks! We have as much in common with the backwards-ball-hat-and-wife-beater-shirt-wearing yobbo on the crappy-music-blaring-bass-throbbing Ski boat as Sir Francis Chichester has with Francesco Schettino.
I can understand if we've been weeks in the Roaring Forties; haven't seen another human for weeks. Here we share a bond. Here the acknowledgement of another soul brings comfort from the isolation. Heading towards Five-Mile Narrows, after passing, and being waved at by, literally thousands of grinning vacationers doesn't require the same interaction.
So please don't wave at me. And especially don't expect a wave back - particularly if you have just swamped me with your six-foot wake (I'm talking to you Mr. SeaRay!)