9
Across the Ocean to Victoria
Joy drove the little Volvo station wagon of hers like nobody’s business. She drove fast, but smoothly, and seldom touched the brake pedal. I held on tight, looking at the scenery and not the road. I didn’t want to show her how afraid I was. I had driven this way lots of times, but not at the speeds we achieved today.
In no time we were at the ferry dock in Horseshoe Bay and in the line to get the Nanaimo ferry. It was an hour-and-a-half drive to Victoria. There were other ways as well, but Joy wanted to check out the this ferry.
It was a bright sunny day, typical of March in Vancouver—one day it’s freezing and you reach for your parka, the next day hard rain greets you, and the following day is warm and sunny with a bright, clear blue sky.
You have to be
