The fog continued all day; it appeared, however, to have little influence upon Captain Urquhart more than to bring out his phonetic genius. Familiar with the intricate channels, currents and tidal influences of the San Juan Islands, the lead constantly going, he keeps on his course slowly and cautiously, but perfectly undismayed and without a moment of doubt. The whistle, with its echo, pilots him through the archipelago; and to this day it is a wonder to me how we found our way. I was by his side and had the benefit of his shrewd deductions and theories. Even with a bright sun, skill and knowledge of the landmarks are called for in the passage through these waters. Our difficulties and the skill displayed in overcoming them may well be imagined. Fortunately for us there was no wind; frequently we found ourselves amongst kelp, with its rank leaves floating on the surface. At one point we passed by rocks not seventy yards distant from us on the starboard side, the land appeared through the fog a ship’s length ahead. We immediately stop. The engine is backed. We are so near that we can hear the voices of children playing on the elevated shore directly ahead. No one is visible, but in reply to the question from the look-out at the bow we learn that we have passed Victoria Harbour and are near the entrance to Esquimalt.
The course of the steamer is changed and we shortly enter Victoria Harbour in as dense a fog as can be seen in any part of the world. It was dark when we reached the wharf. I do not think that any of us were sorry that the experience of the last thirteen hours had been brought to a close. It was entirely new to me, and with all its success somewhat bold and enterprising. Capt. Urquhart undoubtedly displayed great qualities, sagacity, caution, coolness and skill to track his way as he did. He achieved wonders in seamanship, but to men wanting in the qualification he possesses, the attempt to imitate it is not to be commended.
It was three o’clock in the afternoon of the following day when the regular steamer from New Westminster arrived. She left twenty-four hours before we started for Burrard Inlet, and took fifty-six hours to cross the Strait through the fog. We found our way in thirteen hours. In clear weather the trip is made in about half that time.
We went directly to the Driard house, an hotel which the Victorians never tire praising. We were late but had a special dinner, and Mr. Hunter with Captain Urquhart did us the favour to join us, when, as in duty bound, we did due homage to the captain and ship which carried us over; and we had especial cause to do so as we were indebted to Mr. Dunsmuir, the owner, who, hearing of my desire to pass to Vancouver Island, with great courtesy placed the vessel at my disposal. I did not fail next day to call and thank him for his kindness, and I feel it my duty again to acknowledge my obligations to him. The dinner was excellent and after it was over we strolled out into the gaslight of Fort street and walked a few miles into the country before we retired. I looked upon the gaslight as an old friend whose acquaintance I was glad to make again, and a pleasant duty it is to recognize all we owe to a well lighted city.
We obtained our portmanteaus, which had been sent from Winnipeg by the way of San Francisco, and we were by no means unwilling to fall back on the garb of every-day city life. Moreover we also had the happiness to receive letters from home.
Saturday was a comparatively idle day. We walked through nearly every street of Victoria.
We made some calls, and I recollected that eleven years ago on Saturday, September 29th—to-day is the 28th—I reached Kamloops after a hard journey across the mountains by the Yellowhead Pass.
My task was now accomplished. We were on the shores of the Pacific, having passed through the mainland of British Columbia and crossed the waters to Vancouver Island. Our next thought is the direction we must follow homewards. But for the moment, as birds of passage, we have to wait for the fog to lift.