How many of my fellow humans would drool at the prospect of spending a winter weekend on a 25-acre island rock boasting just one man-made amenity: a drafty cabin ventilated by woodpecker holes and shared with a fragrant family of minks residing somewhere below the floor? When pal Mary proposed we mark my 64th birthday with a weekend on a tiny uninhabited island I leapt at the chance with at least as much gusto as other folks might contemplate a stretch at a south-sea resort or California vineyard.
We might never have known a thing about the island and its cabin had Mary not been elected to the BC Land Conservancy board and consequently learned that the TLC owns a property, South Winchelsea Island, one of 19 islands in the Ballenas-Winchelsea Archipelago opposite Vancouver Island between Nanaimo and Parksville. South Winchelsea has a cabin that TLC rents out to people whose joie-de-vivre isn't dependent on proximity to a mall, casino or 4-star hotel. Boatman Lyle ferried us -- and our lode of food, drink, optical gear, warm clothes and bedding -- on the 25-minute run from Schooner Cove to SWI. For me it really was
love at first sight. As we approached the southern island group I saw a wisp of rock spotted with patches of Garry oak, arbutus and shore pine. Lyle lingered only long enough to fire up the propane-powered fridge and hot water heater. Then we had SWI to ourselves (excepting the platoons of sea lions and battalions of gulls just off our doorstep). At Winchelsea water comes not from a well but from a cistern storing rainwater collected from the roof. Solar panels power a few dim lights. A boardwalk leads to a facility boasting a more splendid view than I've seen from any other outdoor privy.
We spent most of our daylight hours exploring the island, botanizing and birding, taking pictures, savouring splendid water and mountain vistas in every direction. We found early wildflowers -- sea blush and blue eyed mary -- but were initially foiled in efforts to locate the prickly pear cactus we understood flourishes on SWI. Fortunately Mike found a riot of it on the last morning, just a stone's throw from the cabin door. 
Come sundown we ate and drank well, played Hearts, provided our own merriment. With apology to Lennon & McCartney my pals sang me their own special version of 'When I'm 64': Now that you're older, losing your mind -- and your O-ring too...The island offered a night life too; under a cloudless sky we aimed the spotting scope at Orion, showed Mike giant Betelgeuse and the amazing Trapezium. The cosmos features billions of galaxies with billions of stars in each. We looked for the soft blur of the nearest galactic neighbour: Andromeda, just 2.3 million light-years distant. Contemplating the night sky helps maintain perspective.
The 48 hours passed too quickly. I can think of nothing to gripe about. No guff. My Winchelsea weekend rates a perfect 10. What a way to take the pain out of turning 64.
