~ 11 ~

Sunday, August 10th Port Alberni, BC

In the morning, David committed himself to his maps. After studying the formations around the island, especially along the west coast, he reviewed the ocean bed sonar mapping. Then came the cross-comparison of the shoreline, the marshlands, the relationships of each to the mountains and valleys interwoven, and then back to the Tofino area. He repeated the same process – only from a larger perspective; from that area to Nanaimo, then south to Ladysmith, then to Duncan and down to Victoria. Finally, he focused on Courtenay, and Campbell River, then up to the northern tip, near Port Hardy and over to Winter Harbour.

He ran the preliminary tests of the soil samples taken the day before from the marshlands near Tofino; by noon he was able to compare the results with his map analysis. The findings stopped him cold. After confirming everything, he ran a second series of tests. If those proved out, and this was as big as the numbers said it would be, there should be soil evidence as far inland as there in Port Alberni. He grabbed the map that showed the closest view of the Alberni Valley. By carefully measuring, adding and subtracting tracts and hectares, he found a likely spot. “There. There it is.” He tapped on the map. “Right there on the other side of Cherry Creek – next to the First Nation Reserve.”
Grabbing some of his field gear, David headed for the car. Using the city street map from the drawer in the room, he drove through the high side of town, onto the slope above the residential area of Port Alberni. One of the roads led him around the mountain and down to Cherry Creek. He parked the car on the side of the road, and crossed over into a large weeded field. After climbing up a bit, a small service area with a diesel fuel pump and shed came into view. Not knowing who owned the land, he walked and took samples as much as he dared, sketched diagrams that positioned the surrounding hills, and then got the hell out of there.

Back in his motel room, David ran the analysis of the samples. Confirmed. Holy shit! David reached for his notebook, connected quickly, and sent off an e-mail to a petrochemical engineer friend and colleague. He had a pizza delivered for an early supper and researched online while waiting for his answer.

****

Ted and Adam jumped on I-405 to skirt past Seattle, and merged into the early evening bumper to bumper traffic on Interstate 5 heading north to the Canadian border. Realising they would miss the last ferry to the island, the travellers slowed their pace.

Hours later, after crossing through customs at Blaine, Washington, Ted and Adam entered Canada and headed north towards the City of Vancouver.

When they arrived at the ferry terminal, they parked to catch a few hours of welcome sleep. They would board the first ferry of the morning scheduled for Swartz Bay, near the southern end of the island. Before he fell asleep, Ted checked his odometer. They’d driven 3,278 miles in less than four days. He flipped the readout to Metric: 5,275 kilometres. No wonder he felt tired.