We take a brief walk on shore, with the intent of doing some serious visiting the following day. The government dock is in good condition, and proximity to Rupert means it's still seeing frequent use. It hasn't -- like far too many others -- been sold off to private owners. A friendly wharfinger comes by in the morning and asks us almost apologetically for moorage: eighteen dollars, she says, but she really doesn't like it that they're supposed to charge these days, and she'll accept fifteen, or whatever we think is fair. We pay our $18 happily and I reflect that I like the people in these parts. They seem informal, tough, self-reliant, and full of sturdy commonsense rather than petty officiousness. Nice people. But oh, the climate...
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