SALT AND WHEAT

Son Bruce and daughter-in-law Cheryl are musicians. They travel across the country leading workshops and giving concerts. Somewhere in Saskatchewan an elderly gentlemen came up after an event and said: “I would really like one of your cd’s but I don’t have any money. Would you take a bushel of hard winter wheat in exchange?” Bruce, much like his father, will barter anything. “Sure,” he said, not realizing that a bushel of wheat weighs 55 pounds!

Somehow they got it home. And now we have bags of wheat stashed in every corner of the boat. We sprout it for salads and stir-fry. We crack it and add it to bread and muffins. We made sprouting kits for our children and grandchildren. We trade it away. But we’ve still got a lot of wheat stored in nooks and crannies!

wheat berries in sprouting mix
jam tart

The other day I was up in the attic of the cabin at Crippen Cove.

There, stored where it keeps nice and dry, is a 20 kilo bag of “fishermen’s” salt. Under the sink in the forward head is another 20 kg bag, barely opened.

Telling stories at the cabin

For years now we have salted surplus fish during the summer for pickling in the winter. Without refrigeration we have had to re-learn how to preserve food in the old ways—salting, drying, pickling, canning. Two years ago we discovered that if we salted the fish carcasses, prawn heads, etc. in the bait bucket, our guests on board and neighbours in an anchorage on hot summer days, appreciated it. But it always bugged me that we could only buy coarse salt in 1 kg packages, and at a price more expensive than iodinized table salt!

Salting bait

Last year, in an out-of-the-way corner of a store in Prince Rupert, I discovered fishermen’s salt: 20 kilo bags for 13 dollars and change. I bought three. We’ve got two left!

Paddling the kayak in Salt Lake

In earlier cultures a surplus of salt and wheat was a sign of abundance, of blessing. Looking in various corners of the boat, and up in the attic at Crippen Cove, are we ever blessed!