Friday, June 14, 2019

Ballet Bay, off of Blind Bay off of Nelson Island, B.C., Canada

     This is a pleasant spot with islands helping to protect the bay from some winds. We arrived last night and the wind was coming from the west, blowing strong in here. Still this place has better holding for laying anchor than the place the night before last. The other place had lots of rock on the bottom. It took us three times to drop the anchor and finally have it set properly. Because the bottom was so much rock we heard the anchor chain scrape every once in awhile on the bottom during a windy night. The guide book said it was protected from the northwest and northeast. It was protected from wave action but the wind came up around dusk and made plenty of noise in the rigging during the night. All in all not a very restful night. There is a bonus to wind in an anchorage for us. The wind generator spins and recharges the batteries which in turn make it possible to run radios, navigational electronics, and a mall refrigerator. 

     The wind from the night before, continued all day yesterday, so we had a wonderful day of sailing with the wind at our back, (downwind), in the morning and in our faces, (upwind), in the afternoon. The wind was just right, so we were moving between 5 and 7 knots of speed, which is as fast as we go with the engine. We probably could have sailed into this bay but it was starting to get late and the wind died down at one point, just when we were debating to continue sailing or take the sails down. Transitions are often a challenge. 

      Kieran is on the boat with us since the 4th when we rendezvoused  in Campbell River with him. Our first day out on the water with him was also an idyllic sailing day. We went back to Melanie Bay for a couple of nights and for Kieran to experience the beauty of it all. The first afternoon he went for a sail in our dinghy. The clouds had been around off and on all day. They clumped together and started to pour rain from the sky just as Kieran got within a hundred yards of our “home” boat, Pinniped. He was soaked by the time he arrived. We almost never use the hot shower on the boat but it was just what Kieran needed on this day. That and hot coco. 

      There is something special about watching raindrops falling on a large body of water. If they are big enough they make a great splash! I love to watch it happening. Even though I didn’t want it to rain that afternoon, there was this unexpected pleasure in seeing the raindrops hit the water with so much exuberance!

      So we are gradually headed south, visiting new places along the way. This place is great for sailing the dinghy around the little islands that help create the shelter for the bay. We took turns taking the dinghy out, each on our own throughout the day. We had a sunshine and just enough breeze. After dinner, still enough breeze to sail the dinghy, Mike and Kieran went out together and then Kieran and I. The sailing was much more exploratory because it was high water. We went in and around islands we couldn’t during low water earlier in the day.

Wednesday, June 19, Vancouver, B.C., Canada

     We arrived here on Monday afternoon in False Creek by Granville Island. This is a creek that acts as a harbor as it flows into Burrard Inlet. We came so Kieran could catch his flight back home to Carbondale early Tuesday morning. We decided to spend yesterday here so we could buy some much needed groceries. At 5:15 this morning the high winds forecast for midnight made a late arrival. A small sailboat had come in and anchored rather too close to us during the night. With that first big gust of wind Mike was up on deck checking things out. Luckily so was the young couple in the little sailboat. They managed to get their anchor up just in time so as not to run into us. Pretty exciting to wake up to another boat only a couple of yards from our boat. 

     So we are still here in Vancouver, waiting for the wind to subside. The wind will have calmed down by tomorrow and we will get an early start crossing the Strait of Georgia one more time to the Gulf Islands. From the Gulf Islands we will head south to the San Juan Islands in the States. If some old friends are available in Friday Harbor we will visit with them for a day or an evening. Our time on the water is fast coming to a close. We have another week and a couple of days left before the boat will be hauled out of the water until next year.

Once in the boatyard we will be on the boat for another couple of weeks. We will clean all the salt off the boat, take the sails off the boat, take off  the running rigging (all the ropes used for controlling the sails), empty the water tanks and dry them as much as possible, put away cushions, bedding, life jackets, emergency equipment, (life raft, survival suits, survival bag), then put it all in storage. There will be laundry to do,  tools and clothes to be packed into the truck for the drive back to New Mexico. The dinghy will be lashed to the top of the truck. To do lists for next spring will be made. For example, what will need repairs, need  replacing, what if any new project will be planned, etcetera. 

Tuesday, May 28, 2019

Van Donop Inlet, on Cortes Island, British Columbia, Canada

     We just arrived here in the early afternoon today. This inlet is part of a marine park. There are trails to be hiked up mountains and lakes that can also be hiked to. It wasn’t so far from where we spent four tranquil days in Melanie Cove off of Prideaux Inlet in Desolation Sound Marine Park. We had to motor to this park because our house batteries had gotten too low while we were in Melanie Cove. We could have sailed but the batteries needed charging and the only way that could happen was to use the engine to get here.

Two days later: We are here in Von Donop for a second full day. The weather has been lovely these last eight days or so. The water up in the northern parts of the Salish Sea,  are not so cold. We’ve gone swimming a number of times. Earlier we spent two days at Manson’s Landing. This bay had a gorgeous large lagoon that could be walked along to a fresh water lake famous for going skinny dipping. We walked to this lake. The water wasn’t too cold, just the wind that day made getting out of the water a challenge.

        Von Donop Inlet is so long, almost three miles, it is possible to hike across the island to a small settlement called Squirrel Cove. We did this today. We walked through sun splotched woods. Most of the trees seemed to be second growth. Ferns grew on both sides of the path. At the start of the hike was a sign saying this is wolf country but we didn’t see any wild life on our walk. Lots of bird calls I didn’t recognize. This isn’t unusual for me because the only bird song I know is the Robin’s and the Chickadee’s. Oh, I guess I know the Raven’s call as well. Last evening as we ate dinner in the cockpit of the boat we watched a Bald Eagle swoop over the water numerous times in hopes of catching a fish. It was amazing to watch. Mike got it on video with his i-pad.

Sunday, June 2, 2019

Gowlland Harbor, between southern Quadra Island and Gowlland Island, B.C. Canada

     We are almost just across the channel, (called Discovery Passage) from the town and river called Campbell River. Actually we are three miles north of there. We arrived here around 10:30 am after leaving Gorge Harbor at 6:30 am. You may be wondering why we left so early in the morning. There were two reasons. First we left early because yesterday in the afternoon the wind became rather blustery, with gusts up to 22 knots. On the marine weather channel (which we try to listen to dutifully every evening before the morning of a place we are leaving) was predicting more of this wind by mid morning. Although Gorge Harbor, where we spent the night, is protected from any wave action, it does have wind. As I said earlier in the blog, wind while at anchor can be very annoying to me. That is one of my challenges this summer, to overcome the sense of insecurity the wind blowing in an anchorage creates in my mind. It isn’t like the wind one sails through with waves all around and a sense of purpose to it all. After all, the wind while under sail is making it possible to reach our destination without burning any fuel. No, when we are anchored I don’t want to be worrying about how the wind may cause our anchor to drag, which in turn could lead us to going aground or ramming into another boat. I don’t want to hear the wind whistling through all the rigging and making our flags flap wildly, creating a sense of unease in my mind, senseless restlessness. No, I don’t like the wind in these circumstances, but I can’t control the wind, only maybe, eventually, my response to it. But I’ve strayed from why we left so early in the morning. I was glad to be leaving that darn anchorage. It had blown all night, off and on and woke me up every time it picked up from a respite of calm. 

     The second reason for leaving so early was also very important. It turns out that Discovery Passage has an incredibly strong current, up to 9 knots at it’s peak. (This is very important information to know since our boat’s motor can only do 6.5 knots and while sailing our record speed has only been 7 knots.) How did we know the current would be so strong? Well we would have known the first time we went to Campbell River, two weeks ago, if we’d examined the chart like we usually do. Like we’re supposed to. On the chart, it accurately shows the channel having a current up to 9 knots and in red print it states for all chart readers to see:

                                     Tide Rip

With flood stream and strong southerly winds, a dangerous tide rip forms off Cape Mudge, often extending across the entrance of Discovery Passage. Extremely steep waves may be encountered under these conditions which are a serious hazard to small vessels.

Needless to say we learned this the hard way; but that’s another story. This time, we were not going to be caught by surprise. We made sure the wind would be out of the north and the tide would be ebbing. However, to meet those conditions, we had to have our anchor up by 6:30 this morning.

     We had an interesting time coming over here. We came out of Gorge Harbor and the water was glassy calm. We were motoring. As we came out from the protection of an island, the wind started to pick up. We thought we’d be ahead of the game and just put out small amounts of sail in anticipation of strong winds. The strong wind never materialized. Then, at one point it appeared the wind was building when it gusted up to 17 knots and we scrambled to put a reef back into the sail only to have the wind die down again and have to let the entire main sail fill with the meager wind. 

     We’ve never been to this harbor before so out of necessity we were both alert, paying attention to key landmarks, matching what is seen on the chart to this new place we were coming to. In general, more often than not, when arriving in a new place, there are rocks to be avoided, marker buoys to be located, as well as taking into account, always, (Ha!) wind and tide direction. So for me I find myself having to curb my imagination at these times. I guess one could call it the fear of the unknown, the new. I find myself becoming anxious beyond what is reasonable. It’s like there are two of me. The person who wants everything to be just fine, no surprises, no unknowns, all the time wanting everything to be predictable. Then there is this other me who wants to explore new places, have new learning experiences, expand my horizons. From the very beginning this season of sailing has been a challenge in a new way. I guess it always is, only this year, since the very first day or because of the very first day, I have had to do mighty battle with the part of me that fears. Finding the guy in the cold southern waters has been part of it. Mike’s inability to move without pain in his hips on some days, which meant he couldn’t do things on the boat that came easily to him in the past, and carelessly sailing into a rip tide, all these things have put me in touch with the me who is afraid. This manifest itself outwardly as a kind of sadness, tinged with anxiety, and bordering on depression. Going to Prideaux Haven in Desolation Sound where wind does not penetrate the anchorage, walking to the fresh water lake to swim in the nude, hiking in a northern rainforest, almost two whole weeks of pure sunshine, meeting other sailing couples our age who were very friendly and generous, all of this has restored my confidence in this sailing adventure.

      Now it has begun to rain. They need rain up here in the Northwest. Although down south in Washington they had quite the snowfall and moisture this winter, further north, in British Columbia, they haven’t had their usual rainfall. It has been relatively dry. I say relatively. Their dry is nothing like our New Mexico dry. 

Tuesday, May 28, 2019

Van Donop Inlet, on Cortes Island, British Columbia, Canada

     We just arrived here in the early afternoon today. This inlet is part of a marine park. There are trails to be hiked up mountains and lakes that can also be hiked to. It wasn’t so far from where we spent four tranquil days in Melanie Cove off of Prideaux Inlet in Desolation Sound Marine Park. We had to motor to this park because our house batteries had gotten too low while we were in Melanie Cove. We could have sailed but the batteries needed charging and the only way that could happen was to use the engine to get here.

Two days later: We are here in Von Donop for a second full day. The weather has been lovely these last eight days or so. The water up in the northern parts of the Salish Sea,  are not so cold. We’ve gone swimming a number of times. Earlier we spent two days at Manson’s Landing. This bay had a gorgeous large lagoon that could be walked along to a fresh water lake famous for going skinny dipping. We walked to this lake. The water wasn’t too cold, just the wind that day made getting out of the water a challenge.

        Von Donop Inlet is so long, almost three miles, it is possible to hike across the island to a small settlement called Squirrel Cove. We did this today. We walked through sun splotched woods. Most of the trees seemed to be second growth. Ferns grew on both sides of the path. At the start of the hike was a sign saying this is wolf country but we didn’t see any wild life on our walk. Lots of bird calls I didn’t recognize. This isn’t unusual for me because the only bird song I know is the Robin’s and the Chickadee’s. Oh, I guess I know the Raven’s call as well. Last evening as we ate dinner in the cockpit of the boat we watched a Bald Eagle swoop over the water numerous times in hopes of catching a fish. It was amazing to watch. Mike got it on video with his i-pad.

Sunday, June 2, 2019

Gowlland Harbor, between southern Quadra Island and Gowlland Island, B.C. Canada

     We are almost just across the channel, (called Discovery Passage) from the town and river called Campbell River. Actually we are three miles north of there. We arrived here around 10:30 am after leaving Gorge Harbor at 6:30 am. You may be wondering why we left so early in the morning. There were two reasons. First we left early because yesterday in the afternoon the wind became rather blustery, with gusts up to 22 knots. On the marine weather channel (which we try to listen to dutifully every evening before the morning of a place we are leaving) was predicting more of this wind by mid morning. Although Gorge Harbor, where we spent the night, is protected from any wave action, it does have wind. As I said earlier in the blog, wind while at anchor can be very annoying to me. That is one of my challenges this summer, to overcome the sense of insecurity the wind blowing in an anchorage creates in my mind. It isn’t like the wind one sails through with waves all around and a sense of purpose to it all. After all, the wind while under sail is making it possible to reach our destination without burning any fuel. No, when we are anchored I don’t want to be worrying about how the wind may cause our anchor to drag, which in turn could lead us to going aground or ramming into another boat. I don’t want to hear the wind whistling through all the rigging and making our flags flap wildly, creating a sense of unease in my mind, senseless restlessness. No, I don’t like the wind in these circumstances, but I can’t control the wind, only maybe, eventually, my response to it. But I’ve strayed from why we left so early in the morning. I was glad to be leaving that darn anchorage. It had blown all night, off and on and woke me up every time it picked up from a respite of calm. 

     The second reason for leaving so early was also very important. It turns out that Discovery Passage has an incredibly strong current, up to 9 knots at it’s peak. (This is very important information to know since our boat’s motor can only do 6.5 knots and while sailing our record speed has only been 7 knots.) How did we know the current would be so strong? Well we would have known the first time we went to Campbell River, two weeks ago, if we’d examined the chart like we usually do. Like we’re supposed to. On the chart, it accurately shows the channel having a current up to 9 knots and in red print it states for all chart readers to see:

                                     Tide Rip

With flood stream and strong southerly winds, a dangerous tide rip forms off Cape Mudge, often extending across the entrance of Discovery Passage. Extremely steep waves may be encountered under these conditions which are a serious hazard to small vessels.

Needless to say we learned this the hard way; but that’s another story. This time, we were not going to be caught by surprise. We made sure the wind would be out of the north and the tide would be ebbing. However, to meet those conditions, we had to have our anchor up by 6:30 this morning.

     We had an interesting time coming over here. We came out of Gorge Harbor and the water was glassy calm. We were motoring. As we came out from the protection of an island, the wind started to pick up. We thought we’d be ahead of the game and just put out small amounts of sail in anticipation of strong winds. The strong wind never materialized. Then, at one point it appeared the wind was building when it gusted up to 17 knots and we scrambled to put a reef back into the sail only to have the wind die down again and have to let the entire main sail fill with the meager wind. 

     We’ve never been to this harbor before so out of necessity we were both alert, paying attention to key landmarks, matching what is seen on the chart to this new place we were coming to. In general, more often than not, when arriving in a new place, there are rocks to be avoided, marker buoys to be located, as well as taking into account, always, (Ha!) wind and tide direction. So for me I find myself having to curb my imagination at these times. I guess one could call it the fear of the unknown, the new. I find myself becoming anxious beyond what is reasonable. It’s like there are two of me. The person who wants everything to be just fine, no surprises, no unknowns, all the time wanting everything to be predictable. Then there is this other me who wants to explore new places, have new learning experiences, expand my horizons. From the very beginning this season of sailing has been a challenge in a new way. I guess it always is, only this year, since the very first day or because of the very first day, I have had to do mighty battle with the part of me that fears. Finding the guy in the cold southern waters has been part of it. Mike’s inability to move without pain in his hips on some days, which meant he couldn’t do things on the boat that came easily to him in the past, and carelessly sailing into a rip tide, all these things have put me in touch with the me who is afraid. This manifest itself outwardly as a kind of sadness, tinged with anxiety, and bordering on depression. Going to Prideaux Haven in Desolation Sound where wind does not penetrate the anchorage, walking to the fresh water lake to swim in the nude, hiking in a northern rainforest, almost two whole weeks of pure sunshine, meeting other sailing couples our age who were very friendly and generous, all of this has restored my confidence in this sailing adventure.

      Now it has begun to rain. They need rain up here in the Northwest. Although down south in Washington they had quite the snowfall and moisture this winter, further north, in British Columbia, they haven’t had their usual rainfall. It has been relatively dry. I say relatively. Their dry is nothing like our New Mexico dry. 

Tina’s Sailing Blog 2019

Friday, May 18, 2019

       I am sitting close behind the dodger (a canvas cover that cuts out some of the wind in the stern or back of the boat, and keeps large waves from splashing into the cockpit). We are anchored in Gorge Harbor on Cortes Island ( the Canadians must of Angla-sized Cortez, changing the z to s in Cortez). The wind is blowing making the flags on the boat flap and the wind generator spin very fast, (good for keeping the batteries charged). We are at the very northern end of the Strait of Georgia. The sun is partially shining, there are also many gauzy white clouds in the sky as well. I have to be grateful to the wind, it’s because of the wind that we have this sunshine I suppose.

     This morning was spent looking over charts and consulting guide books about the next leg of our journey north to Seymour Narrows and beyond.

     I need to back track all the way to May 2, the day we left Port Townsend and crossed the Strait of Juan de Fuca. That day has colored much of our trip so far. We were making nice time sailing with gentle winds. We had just finished lunch and were feeling sleepy when I heard a voice over the water. That caught my attention. In the same moment Mike saw someone floating in the water with a yellow life jacket on and draped over another arm a bright orange traditional life jacket. As we turned the boat in that direction we could hear a man’s voice call for help. We were about a mile to a mile and a half off shore. There were no boats, paddle boards, nothing to tell us how that man came to be there in the water. In hindsight we realized we should have called the Coast Guard first, lowered the sails, turned the engine on, and motored over to the man.

However we didn’t think things through but responded on pure instinct, which in the long run was not the best strategy. We arrived close to him very quickly. We allowed the sails to luff in the wind but the breeze filled  the sails just enough that the boat would move away. We threw a life sling to him, The sling floats and is attached to a line that is attached to the boat. The man was unable to move towards the floating life sling so we could pull him onto the boat. Mike turned on the engine. We were close to him right away, almost too close. Even with the engine running the sails kept catching wind and making the boat drift away. So Mike furled the jib and I lowered the mainsail. Finally I thought we were going to get him on board when we were able to give him the jib sheet to hang on to. We needed our boat hook to grab him quickly before he let go. The boat hook was buried in the lazarette (a compartment in the cockpit of the boat), Mike couldn’t find it and a few seconds later the man let go of the line! At that very moment a large power boat came along and asked if we needed help. We answered yes as the man drifted over towards their their boat. They did call the Coast Guard immediately. By doing this the Coast Guard was able to put out an alert to the area. All boats have radios that are always tuned in to channel 16, the emergency channel. I doubt that the people in the power boat would have been able to get the man on board either since their deck was even further off the water than our boat. But a small fishing skiff was nearby and heard the man overboard alert. They saw our two boats and came speeding up to help out. There were three large burly guys on the boat. One grabbed the man with their boat hook and the three men managed to pull him onto their skiff. After a minute they began taking off their extra clothing to try to keep the man warm and sped off for shore where an ambulance met them, took the guy to the hospital where a helicopter met the ambulance, in order to airlift him to a special hypothermia hospital unit in Seattle. After the skiff left, Mike was talking to someone on the radio from 911 or the Coast Guard. Everyone was trying to figure out how he had ended up in the water all by himself. Did he fall off a tug or a barge, did he fall out of his fishing skiff, did his boat sink for some reason? We will never know those details. We were able to learn some time later in the week that he had survived his ordeal. 

     I was pretty shook up by this experience. We were both relieved that other people had arrived to help out because we were having a difficult time doing anything effective. At the time I felt like a total failure. Mike pointed out to me that sometimes one just can’t help another person the way one wants to. I didn’t sleep well that night. I kept going over everything that had happened and what we should have done differently, what we could do differently if it ever happened again. We were anchored in Friday Harbor for the night and were going to leave in the morning. I was still upset and so instead we spent half the day going over emergency procedures. This is stuff we usually review the first week out on the water. I think we will do this review before we go out from now on.

     In the afternoon we rowed to town to do a few errands, take advantage of the public showers, and drink a beer and watch baseball in a local sports bar. Rowing is a very soothing past time for me. By evening I felt better. We had talked to Marisol the night before because it was her birthday. Of course we told her what had happened. She in turn had told Fiona, who called us that night as well. Then the following evening we talked to Kieran about it too. They were good listeners and wanted to make sure we were okay.

      Saturday morning we headed out again, leaving Friday Harbor and sailing in gentle winds up to the end of San Juan Channel and into New Channel by Spieden Island. Then the wind diminished to nothing and we motored into Reid Harbor on Stewart Island, which is the last island in U.S. waters on our route to Canada. We spent a peaceful evening there. Since then we have gradually been making our way north. Our destination is Port Hardy near the very northern tip of Vancouver Island. If Kieran can join us we will go ahead rounding Cape Scott and sailing south on the western side of Vancouver Island. If Kieran can’t get time off from work we will probably just turn around and head south on the inside. There are so many places to explore up here no matter which way we go.

     Since entering Canada we had one very tiring day of sailing into a headwind from Montague Bay to Telegraph Harbor on Thetis Island. Winds only gusted up to 20 knots but the current was against us so we made poor time at 3 to 3 half knots on average. I also had moved a block (pulley) for the jib sheet and failed to make sure the block was locked into place.  In the middle of a tack the block came flying off and caught on the winch. Made quite a racket. At that point we just had to turn out of the wind and put the block back. We decided to put one reef in the mainsail (shorten the sail). Just as I finished that chore, for the first time of the season, (making silly mistakes, because it was the first time in the season), the wind died completely. So we decided to have lunch, it was past one pm. We each were biting into our crackers when the wind came back. Put away peanut butter and jelly as quickly as possible and continued our upwind slog. At one point we had to decide which anchorage would be less windy for the night. We had to make a couple of turns downwind and what a blessed pause that was from the headwind. We were moving 6 knots instead of 3 and the wind was at our back. The harbor we chose was not less windy at 4:30 in the afternoon. We tied up at an easily accessible  dock for the night and had a beer in the marina pub. By 7:30 pm the wind had fizzled out, thank goodness!

     We spent three days anchored in Nanaimo. Nanaimo is Vancouver Island’s other major city (although it’s not that large). We would row to town every day to check emails at a local cafe, do grocery shopping, laundry, showers, mail a letter, visit the local chandlery, buy some sunglasses for Mike, etc. One evening we rowed over to a pub on floats just off of one of the local residential islands.

     On the morning we were leaving Nanaimo, as I was raising the anchor, I saw a chain draped over our anchor just below the surface of the water. It had been hard to raise our anchor. I had had to do some of the raising mechanically without the use of the motor in the windlass. Now I understood why it’d been so difficult, we were hooked on someone else’s anchor chain! The boat nearest to us, whose chain our anchor had caught, luckily had someone awake on board. Mike was able to get their attention to let them know they would probably need to reset their anchor. As we left the bay I reflected on how there really are very few dull moments when boating. It can be physically very tiring and wondering how the wind is going to behave can work on one’s psyche, but bored is not part of my experience when on the water in a boat. If one doesn’t have to be alert to the sailing of the boat, if we are just motoring, there are always things to see. The different sea birds, seals, dolphins, sea lions, whales, new breathtaking scenery, other boats coming and going, looking at the chart and figuring out where we are, all these things keep me awake and far from being bored.

     Now as I’m writing the wind continues to blow harder in this anchorage. There is no wave action but the noise the wind makes in the rigging, the flags flapping wildly, and the wind generator spinning making a constant whirring noise, are all rather irritating. The sun is in and out of the clouds, which have turned partially grey. I hope the wind quits for the night. If it doesn’t stop blowing I will probably not sleep very well.

Sunday, August 19, 2018

      Montague Harbor between Galiano and Parker Island among the northern half of the Gulf Islands, Canada:

      Wow! Time flies when it comes to blogging. I last left off in Poet’s Nook way over on the southwestern coast of Vancouver Island. We spent a good half day in this very secluded little cove inside Barkley Sound after an uneventful motoring back down Alberny Inlet. We came down the inlet in sunshine and warmth, following Suzi and David on their boat Sidewinder. 

      It was foggy at first when we arrived in the sound about 11:00 am. The fog discouraged us from trying to make Pipestem Inlet and Lucky Creek. Poet’s Nook was the go to spot, closer by far and the fog was already beginning to dissipate in that direction. Suzi and I spent a couple of hours sailing our dinghy in the cove. Cocktails and dinner was on their  boat. We’d hoped for a moonrise inside the cove but by dusk the fog was already forming around us. Good conversation was had by all below deck, inside and away from the chilling fog.

      The next morning we said good-bye to Suzi and David. They were headed to Pipestem Inlet but we were headed back to Bamfield town and harbor. We had to start our return to the States so I could meet my sisters for our annual reunion beginning on the fifth of August. Because we travel “slow”, at least by twenty first century standards, a week wasn’t too much time for us to get ourselves to the southern half of Puget Sound to a bay created by Vashon Island and Maury Island and close to Tacoma on the mainland. Traveling in a boat that averages 5mph (with or without wind), we are also constrained by the possibility of too much wind, current speeds moving with us or against us, and fog. All these variables spell out the need for “time”. With airplanes and boats, research has shown that when one has a strict deadline or timeline, accidents are more likely to happen if one does not factor in “extra time” needed in order to reach ones destination “on time”. The variables we have no control over, like weather for example, have to be included in one’s time frame. We had great luck with the weather and used the currents to our advantage, i.e. getting up early in the morning when the current would be “with” us.

      Our first day we left Barkley Sound, our destination was Port Renfrew/ San Juan, 40 miles along the western coast of Vancouver Island. There are no islands or bays or harbors to take refuge from bad weather. By the way, there is a marine weather station that covers all these boating areas and we listen to this every day we are on the water. We left Bamfield by 7:00 am so to benefit from an incoming current from the ocean. There was fog of course but visibility was at least a half a mile which increased as the morning wore on, until the sun came out around 10:30 or 11:00. There was very little wind so we were motoring. We made good time; arriving at Port Renfrew by 2:30 pm. The sun was shining, the ocean swells were small and smooth, we didn’t feel too tired, so we did some calculations, and decided to keep going on to Sooke, another 30 miles but already inside the Strait of Juan de Fuca. We would arrive by 7:00 pm. The wind changed direction and came from behind us, a following wind, so we unfurled our smaller foresail and motor sailed.  It wasn’t very much wind but boosted our moral. Motoring is tiresome when you know sailing is so much more soothing and noiseless. At least in moderate winds. There is a certain anxiety that creeps up on me when we are out on the ocean side of shore. I know it originates with our lack of experience on the ocean. Until we gain more experience that anxiety will persist. By the time we passed the point where Sheringham Lighthouse is perched; it is the last major point before Sooke Harbor, I was flooded with relief that this leg of the journey was almost over. Fog was forming beyond our turn into the harbor, the wind was gradually building but not to the point of making us feel uncomfortable, so less than 20mph, the sun was shining, all was well. 

      By the time we were inside Sooke Harbor and anchoring the wind had picked up. The wind does blow into Sooke but it has no means for the waves to build, and that is all that counts for a restful night of sleep. It was Friday evening and on the wind we could hear music playing a song about home being wherever” you are”. It’s an uplifting song for me and as the wind blew, cold and humid to the bone, I felt triumphant. By 8:30 in the evening it was as if someone had hit a switch. The wind stopped blowing and the water became glassy smooth. I settled into the book I was reading at the time, The Plover by Brian Doyle. It’s a curious tale, disturbing and uplifting all at once. I was kind of sad and at loose ends when it ended.

       In the morning there was fog out in the strait. Cotton wool fog for fifteen minutes or so. We slowed down to 3 knots or less, keeping an eye out for the little fishing boats that were out in big numbers. We were crossing the Strait of Juan de Fuca for Port Angeles on the Olympic Peninsula in the States. There is a customs office and port of entry for boats coming from other countries. Luckily for us, by the time we reached the shipping channel, the fog was dissipating. We could use our eyes not just the AIS and radar to see if any barges, freighters, or cruise ships, were coming our way while crossing the deep channel, designated for the large to huge commercial ships. Sure enough there was a cruise ship coming. Then we went to the AIS to see how fast they were moving and how close we would pass each other. We decided we would let them pass us first even though the AIS said we could cross in front of them.  There were no boats in the outbound lane and a smaller boat coming up behind the cruise ship, which turned out to be the Coast Guard. Small enough to maneuver around us. This is another source of anxiety for me, that is, passing large ships. This being the fifth year we’re on the water I know that enough experience has reduced that anxiety.

        Mike called customs in Port Angeles. This was our first time using  our pass, called an I-68, which required a thorough background check before one could qualify. There are no guaranties that customs will give you the clearance over the phone even with this pass but one can only try it after all the fuss of getting the darn thing. Once more, luck was with us! We didn’t have to go into Port Angeles at all. U.S. Customs cleared us over the phone! This pass is wonderful when they accept it! We went on to Sequim Bay that same day and anchored for the night. The whole of our journey to the south of Puget Sound and Vashon Island was very relaxing. We arrived in Quartermaster Harbor on the south end of Vashon Island and the west side of Maury Island, the day before Tony was to arrive and two days before I was to meet my sisters. After a quick ride on a ferry to Raston, a suburb of Tacoma, my sisters who were driving from Spokane met and picked me up and we drove further south to a resort town called Long Beach. Of course there were miles and miles of sandy beach and big breaking waves to stare at and listen to.The sun came out on Vashon. We had stopped in Port Townsend to pick up mail and say hello to friends. The day we left there was a fine rain falling all morning; the kind that makes you feel like you’re in a cool sauna.

      Dear Readers, I have not caught you up to the present moment yet, Monday, August 

27th, but I am going to post this before I get even further behind, We are currently up at the northern end of the Strait of Georgia in a lovely harbor and town called Comox on the eastern side of Vancouver Island. Tomorrow if wind permits we will be off for Desolation Sound. It is a famous marine park which should be tranquil and isolated except that it is August and everyone who owns a boat will still be there. Oh well, one can’t have everything. Our days haven’t been too strenuous and we’ve only had a little rain and overcast. Lots and lots of haze from the fires. The rain cleared it up for a couple of days but today it is back.

Thursday, July 26, Poet’s Nook in Barkley Sound

     We arrived in Barkley Sound four days ago. Time and events sometimes seem so distorted. Only a week ago we left Sooke early in the morning and returned to Esquimalt  

Harbor by Victoria. We spent a day there doing odd chores that needed our attention. One such chore involved mixing vinegar and baking soda in a bucket and scrubbing spots in the cockpit and the rub rail where green mossy like stuff started to grow during the winter while the boat was in the yard. A week later I can say with confidence that the baking soda and vinegar along with vigorous scrubbing did the trick of removing the green slime.

      Late in the afternoon of our “chore day”, we received a text from Suzi and David. They were still in Oak Harbor on the other side of Victoria and planning to leave early in the morning for Port Renfrew. Some friends of their’s on another boat would also be setting sail.  Their time of departure would be 4:00 a.m. Mike and I looked at each other and decided we would try to meet them somewhere along the way. Our departure would be 5:00 a.m. since we were already an hour further along in Esquimalt. We wouldn’t be stopping in Sooke it would be a ten or twelve hour day depending on weather conditions but it would be less anxiety producing traveling the same route with two other boats. The next morning as we exited Esquimalt Harbor and looked back towards Victoria we could just make out two sailboats in the distance, headed our direction. We tried calling them on Channel 68 for conversing over the radio with other boats. We could hear them but they couldn’t hear us. Turns out we were on the Canadian channel 68 and they were on the U.S. channel 68; so we were unable to communicate until we texted by phone with each other. Later on during the day we finally figured out the situation with Canadian and U.S. channel 68. We had the tide with us a good portion of the day and the weather was sunny!!!! We even were able to sail for a few hours. The sailing didn’t improve our arrival time but it did give us a break from the noise of the diesel engine. It turned out Suzi and David could only motor at 5 knots max. Maybe 6 knots when the current was with us. While we were sailing, they passed us, but we were never that far behind. I think we arrived in Port Renfrew about 5 or so.  By the time we were anchored it was time to heat up some quick ready made soup and go to bed. We would be getting up at 4:45 am to try and beat the fog in the morning and heavy winds in the later part of the afternoon at Cape Beale, our entrance to Barkley Sound . I’d made tea and sandwiches for us the night before. By 5:30 we were out on the water, motoring through thin fog, hoping it was going to dissipate rather than get thicker. Luck was with us. The sun shone eariey through the fog, (one can stare directly at the sun through fog, the light is a kind of golden haze). Within a half hour we were looking at blue holes in the fog and our visibility on the water was at least a mile. Suddenly we could see Vancouver Island and our friend’s boat and there were only a few wisps of smoke like fog left in the air. By 6:30 it was a brilliant sunny, blue sky, kind of day in the Northwest. The water was sparkling all around us. We had to put on sunscreen, hats, and sunglasses. It was still chilly though. We were in layers, t shirt, long sleeved shirt, fleece, jacket/ wind breaker, warm hat. Mike and I took turns napping in the morning. It was another long day of motoring without sufficient wind to take a break sailing. There were swells with choppy water the first three hours in the morning. Then the water settled down a bit, the swells were smoother and the chop disappeared. As we neared the sound the afternoon wind began to pick up a little bit but it wasn’t worth while to worry about it. We met up with the other two boats between two islands to share tea and cookies and meet Suzi and David’s friends in person. They turned out to be Australians whom Suzi and David knew from their sailing days in the South Pacific. A very lively and adventurous couple.They had friends to meet at a yacht club further into the sound. As for ourselves and Suzi and David, we cut across Trevor Channel to Bamfield Inlet and town to anchor and relax. 

     Once anchored, we shared dinghy space  to go ashore and look for a restaurant to have dinner. Turns out Sunday night in Bamfield is restaurant closed night. I had just made some fresh bread and with improvised chicken noodle soup and salad we had a great dinner. We started a new “box” of red wine. What more could we ask for; safely arrived, sharing a meal with friends?

     After a day of walking and rowing around Bamfield; Suzi and I walked a bit out of town to visit the lovely wild and local beach, we were ready to leave the next day. It was decided that Suzi and David would meet up with Trish and Will (the Australians) at the yacht club. The place where the yacht club is located is notorious for having rocks with a narrow passage for boats our particuliar size. Mike and I decided we wanted nothing to do with this place and said we would meet them later in the day on the way to a place called Pipestem Inlet and Lucky Creek. We had good sailing making our way around a group of islands called The Deer Group to Imperial Eagle Channel. We spotted a whale blowing off in the distance ahead of us. We never did catch up with it, although we saw it surfacing and blowing several times. We thought maybe it was a Humpback. As we sailed down Imperial Eagle Channel, we had the radio on to the “chat” channel (68) and overheard a conversation in progress about a boat having hit a rock and was taking on water. Another boat was offering assistance if needed. Then we realized it was the Australian’s boat that was taking on the water. As we listened, trying to spot sailboats within sight and coming from the direction of Robbers Channel ( the narrow, rocky, channel with the yacht club), we heard David talking on the radio. Apparently they had also hit the same rock but not as badly and were not taking on water. Mike and I were kind of surprised to say the least and relieved at the same time that we hadn’t gone that notorious route.

     There is a 20 mile long inlet or fjord from Barkley Sound into the interior of Vancouver Island. At the end of that inlet is a logging town, Port Alberny, with a boatyard capable of repairing boats damaged by rocks. This is where the two damaged boats were headed, along with the boat named Tango. Tango contained a generous couple  who came to the aid of the Australians when they realized they were taking on water and the situation was still being assessed. Trish and Will had wisely brought along a third bilge pump for just such a possibility as hitting a rock during their cruising. The only problem was that Trish had to help the other two bilge pumps out by sponging up the excess water while Will connected all the wires to their electrical system to get that third bilge pump up and running. Whew! Anyhow, we decided we would follow everyone to Port Alberny as well. Suzi’s and David’s boat motors slower than everyone else’s and we figured they would be glad for another boat with people they knew, following along and bringing up the rear. Since we were all on the “conversation” radio channel, everyone and anyone can be listening to conversations. Sure enough several different fishing boats announced to us sail boats that our afternoon and early evening jaunt up Alberny Inlet would have lots and lots of following wind, up to 30 knots! That was interesting. Apparently the wind from the western Pacific just races up this narrow bit of water every afternoon until sunset. Sure enough the wind picked up as we went into the narrow part of the inlet. We decided to put our small fore sail/stay sail out. It is easily furled if the wind were to become too strong. It is fun and relatively easy to sail downwind, that is with a wind “following” us or coming from behind. However, it is important that when the wind becomes a certain strength in relationship to a particular boat, the sail doesn’t  become over powered by the wind. This is why we started with the stay sail, being smaller than the jib, it is less likely to lead us into problems. We were happily amazed to find that in 25-28 knots of wind the stay sail moved us through the water at 6-6 1/2 knots. This is top speed in our sailboat, whether we are under sail or just motoring. It is always satisfying to learn more about what one’s own boat can and can not do in different conditions. This was one of those times. We saved 20 miles worth of diesel fuel as well; another cause for satisfaction.

     We arrived in Port Alberny at dusk. A huge log was just visible in the water and David, whose boat was ahead of us, pointed it out. It was warm and calm, clear skies above, the first stars made pin pricks of light in a sky that still had color in it. We parted ways for the night to different docking places. We made a few passes past an outer dock, looking for the boat Tango. They knew of a spot where we could dock for the night. finally saw them and were able to understand where we were to go. Our radio used for talking had run out of batteries earlier in the evening. We went around a corner and there was our spot with about 5 feet to spare between two other boats. Ron from Tango was there to help us get tied up and the owner of the boat in back of us was also there. We managed to dock without any problems thanks to the extra people, ready and waiting to help us tie up. It was the end of a long day on the water. An almost full moon had risen by the time we sat down in the cockpit to enjoy the warmth of a clear summer’s night, inland from the ocean. There was no fog or the damp chill that inevitably sets in at sunset when we are on the coast. After cool, humid, sunny days on the coast, our day spent in Port Alberny felt dry and very hot. It was probably only in the upper 80’s that day but I walked around the town to do laundry and visit a super market and I was sweating like I hadn’t done all summer. Actually it felt very good to be hot in July. After all that’s what summer is all about; at least for someone coming from the Southwest. We watched the Australian’s boat get hauled out and saw the gash in the bottom of the boat and water rushing out of the keel. It wasn’t a huge gash, maybe 4 inches in all. Big enough to allow water into the boat. It’s a sobering sight for any boat owner. The cost of having the boat hauled out and the repair was also sobering. Luckily for Suzi and David, they opted for David to check the place where they hit a rock in his wetsuit with a flashlight and a mask. He found their spot where the boat met rock and it was minimal. Nothing to worry about until the boat comes out of the water in the fall. That was a huge relief to them. That evening we ( four couples ) celebrated the repair of Trish and Will’s boat taking only two days instead of a month; Suzi and David’s boat not needing any serious repair, and the chance to experience the “heat” of summer. We ate together at a nice restaurant where we could see the sunset over water and forested mountains.

       Time to post this installment of the blog. Until the next one dear readers.....

Blog, July 7, 2018

     Hello dear readers. We have set out on another summer of “cruising” this past Monday, July 2. We left the dock in Port Townsend for a short motor across the bay to Morrowstone Island and it’s lovely little Mystery Bay. To arrive at the bay is rather round about. One has to motor around a large sand spit then carefully navigate between a series of red and green buoys so as to avoid too shallow water outside the channel. It is only six and a half miles from Port Townsend but because we have to motor slowly through a rather shallow channel with “s” curves through Kilsut Harbor before arriving in Mystery Bay; it takes at least an hour. 

     We had a delightful two days in the little bay. It was a much needed time to relax after the push of the last ten days to have the boat ready to go into the water on the date we had given ourselves.Then there were three more days on the dock doing all the last minute things that can only be done while the boat is in the water but still on the dock. There is the last minute grocery shopping to do using the car. All the tools not needed on the water have to be taken to storage in exchange for life jackets, cushions for our settee and quarter berth (another place to sleep on the boat when we have the kids or a friend), etc. Before a boat our size can go back in the water a large vehicle, a bit like a crane, has to cradle the boat and carry it to the water. It’s called a travel lift. The travel lift in this boat yard is not the largest and for this reason boats our size have to loosen the “stays” (stays are metal lines that support the mast on sailboats), fore and aft on the boat so as to fit on the travel lift. Once the boat is back in the water those “stays” have to be tightened again before going sailing. It can be awkward physically adjusting these essential lines and may take a day or so to tweak. Sometimes sails have to be put back on the mast, which was the case for us this year. So the last two weeks before one can truly sail the boat, are intense and full of work filled days.

      On Wednesday morning we’d pulled up the anchor by 7:10 and were on our way, sailing with an outgoing tide across the Strait of Juan de Fuca. It was an easy sail. The winds were gentle, the waves were tiny, and we averaged about 4 1/2 knots or 5.4 mph. By early afternoon the tide was with us as we neared a tranquil harbor by the name of Mckaye on Lopez Island. We “dropped a hook” (sailor speak for dropping the anchor) for the night. Time was slowing down now that we were on our way. It took us 7 hours and fifteen minutes to sail 30.2 miles!

      The next three days were spent in Friday Harbor. We have friends there so even though this harbor is not ideal in terms of noise and water traffic, i.e. there are many seaplanes, power boats, ferries, and tourist boats, we usually stop in to visit these old friends if they are home. We also had a minor electrical problem with the electric windlass (a windlass raises the anchor) on the first day. We didn’t know it was minor. Mike patiently did as much trouble shooting as he knew how to do, but by 3:30 in the afternoon he couldn’t figure it out. So we called a local boat electrician who agreed to come look at it if we brought the boat to the dock by 7:00 am. the next morning. We were up at 5 or so to eat a quick breakfast and pull up our anchor manually and then we motored into a vacant spot on the public dock. The electrician was there promptly at seven. He went on to tell us how during boating season he works 16 hour days but in the winter he barely has any work. “Feast or famine”, were his words.

     On Sunday we were off to one of my favorite islands, just on the border with Canada; Stewart Island sits on the edge of Boundary Pass. I’m sure I’ve written about this island before... it has a lighthouse on it since the late 1800’s and some of the island’s families today have ancestors going back to the some of the original settlers on the island. They have gone out of there way to keep the old one room school house and “teacherage” maintained as a museum and a library. They also renovated and furnished the old lighthouse keepers home as a museum and gift shop. So people still live on this island but they are responsible for their own electricity and phone. We the public are able to hike on the island because part of it is a marine/state park. There are two harbors, one on the north side and one on the south. We usually go to the harbor to the south but this year we met up with friends we’d made in the boatyard in Prevost Harbor. It was fun to meet up with friends on another boat. We shared dinner with each other the two nights we spent there. On Monday we hiked the island together, talking about this and that. I walked with Suzie the wife and Mike with David. Suzie and I are more of the hiking type so we walked longer and further. She and I have similar taste in books and talked about favorite books we’d read. She was a teacher of 35 years so we have the teacher experience in common as well. Another element that bonds us is the fact that we are both doing this sailing experience and can talk to each other about it and understand each other completely. 

     On Tuesday we both left for Canada at the same time and arrived at South Pender Island to clear customs. For the first time ever our boat was boarded by the Canadian customs patrol. Usually all we do is call a number at the dock and give them our passport numbers and boat documentation information over the phone. They must have been looking for alcohol but we didn’t have much left after sharing dinner with our friends the two nights before. 

      After clearing customs it was time to anchor, flake the sail, and do all the other little chores that go with anchoring a sailboat for the night. We had a late lunch when Suzie came on the radio asking if we’d like to go to the grocery store with them in their dinghy. They have a larger dinghy than ours, plus we haven’t tried putting an outboard on our dinghy yet. It was a pleasure going with them. They can handle Mike’s sense of humor and have their own unique humor as well. The next day we went over to this little cove with a resort. Suzie and David had scoped out the place last year. Because it has an outdoor pool, there were public showers. So we all went and had showers! Mike and I have been going there for the last four years but never figured out the shower situation. Our friends left the next day around noon. In the morning Suzie and I had rowed over to the footpath that one can take to the top of Mount Normanon South Pender Island. From there we made the hike, talking all the time about different experiences and friends in our lives. It was a very companionable time. It reminded me of when I must have been ten years old. It was summer time in upper New York state. Our family was on it’s annual car camping trip in the Adaroundeks. We were at a favorite spot, Cranberry Lake, only this time it was different because two other families met us on that trip. Both families had daughters close to my age and the three of us went off on a hike together up some “mountain”. The woods in BC are rather shady with mottled sunlight because the trees are large and tall. It was the same kind of woods back East that the three of us went hiking in.The same sense of being able to talk about all kinds of things with friends was present both times. It is one of the best things in my life. My life is rich with such moments and I’m so grateful for that.

     When we made it back to our dinghy, it was still high up on a rock strewn shore.  Together we clumsily lifted the boat up over the rocks and carried it to the water. Suzie is a petite person but she assured me she would be fine and we were. We managed all by ourselves which was rather gratifying to say the least. They left at 12:30 to go visit friends over near Victoria. I was a little sad to see them go. I have to admit I do get homesick for all my family and friends in New Mexico while we are cruising. It’s not  a constant feeling. It tends to sneak up on me when we are around strangers in a new place. Such are the hazards of traveling far from home. Perfect times with friends are a temporary state, that’s for sure. I suppose thats what makes such times so precious.

      We spent the rest of the day doing odds and ends with the boat. There is always something to be done that isn’t too pressing but will be needed in the near future. Mike discovered he needed to download an app for the new wind and sun generator system that he engineered on the boat in June. So we rowed into the resort and went to the restaurant/bar to see if wifi was available. There was wifi, so we each had a beer while Mike had a frustrating time creating the “ideal” passwords. He finally got that set up, only to find they wanted his credit card info, even though the app was free. We only had cash with us of course! The next day we sailed over to North Pender Island where there are grocery and marine stores in Port Browning. We had to return some engine oil Mike had bought only to discover it was the wrong kind. There was a nice bakery/cafe with wifi and in less than a minute Mike, armed with all his credit card numbers, had downloaded the app. Modern day life is so full of these technological miracles!

     We had a very nice sail half way over to Port Browning. The wind had us going 5 or 6 knots without having to tack and never made us uncomfortable or  had us thinking we should reef (make the sail smaller when winds are too strong for the whole sail to be used).

      The following day, we left early, around 8:00, so to have the tide pushing us as well as any wind out there on the water. It was a good wind, mostly coming over the beam ( the middle) of the boat so we made good time plus we had the outgoing current  pushing us along to our next destination. Around 11:30 or so the wind began to slow way down and we were just moving through the water finally by the outgoing current. We ate lunch in the warm sunshine and watched our slow progress until about 1:30 when the current started to change direction and we started going backwards. It was time to turn on the engine and finish the trip by motoring to the next anchorage south of Sydney (town) to Saanichton Bay and Cordova Spit. This is a place we’ve anchored in at least twice before.The spit has always been deserted in the past but not this particular Saturday afternoon. At least two thirds of the spit was full of people with cabanas and their picnics and their was some kind of racing going on because we could hear the guy announcing things. As we were setting the anchor and putting stuff away we started listening. There were traditional indigenous paddle boats racing one another. We decided we would row ourselves over to watch some of the races up close. I think people were curious to see us there but no one stared or was rude. We were the only Anglos there. A few people smiled or said hello. People were relaxed and obviously enjoying either being in one of the many races or watching and socializing. We saw races with different age groups, ten years old and under, thirteen year olds and under, sixteen year olds and under, men and women doubles, teams of six adult men, teams of  

five women with one man, teams of eleven women in big paddling boats, and teams of men and women. The boats were not like a traditional canoe. They were much narrower and very light, some of fiber glass, others made of wood. We actually saw one team of two, capsize. We watched for an hour or so on the beach but headed back to our dinghy just in time as the tide was coming in and the dinghy was beginning to float. As we were eating dinner the eleven person teams were racing and the course for this race became a large oval that passed way out into the bay by our sailboat and went all the way out to the end of the spit. It was so amazing to see these six or seven boats racing each other, each team paddling hard and in unison with each other. The racing ended just about at dusk. 

     Sunday morning we woke up to another sunrise. It’s pretty special for a part of the world that is often overcast, foggy, or rainy. This past week has been high summer in the Northwest. I could actually get down to a t-shirt on the boat if the wind wasn’t blowing. It is now Tuesday, July 17th and the nice weather continues.

      Well it is Wednesday, July 18th. We are in Sooke Harbor waiting out high winds/gales before we head further out the western end of the Strait of Juan de Fuca. We would like to make Barkley Sound again and perhaps go further north up the western coast of Vancouver Island. That's weather always weather permitting. I’m going to post this blog for now. Lots of free wifi cafes around. Until the next post, be well everyone.

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