Monday, July 4, 2016
Independence Day in the U.S. We left the spit in Sanichton about 7:30 a.m. Saturday morning. We motored the first part of the morning south to Victoria. We raised our sails just after the current changed from outgoing to coming in. We were making good time when we came up on Esquimalt Harbor, it was 11:45 or so. We decided to continue on to Race Rocks and Race Passage. About a third of the way to the light house on Race Rocks the current became stronger. We lowered the sails because the current was stronger than the wind at this point and we were being swept with the current back to where we’d come and then we fired up the diesel engine. We decided to go through Race Passage instead of going around Race Rocks. It would be shorter that way and the headwind was less. We came through Race Passage with no problem but there was rough water up ahead. We decided to try motor sailing and raised a reefed main sail. Luckily for us the wind and the current were both against us. If the current had been going out we might have had bigger wave action. As it was waves were spraying us all the way back to the dodger in the stern. The sun was shining and the wind was chill ( I’ve never experienced a warm wind here on the water in the Northwest). We decided to make for Becher Bay where we’d been last September with Kieran and Betsy. It was only four miles away from Race Passage to Campbell Cove, a protected spot in the bay. It ended up taking us a good hour before arriving in the cove. The wind was out of the northwest and was funneling into the bay which made our passage to the cove even rougher than out on the open water. I was really glad we had a dependable engine for these circumstances.
We are still in Becher Bay waiting for winds to calm down to the point where we are comfortable continuing on. We busy ourselves with little projects we never seem to get to otherwise. I’ve learned a new skill, how to sew whipping on the ends of rope to help them not fray and slip through the outer sheath. It looks nice and really works. It’s not hard to do, a kind of sewing with waxed thread, a strong sail needle, and a sailmakers palm, (a piece of leather that fits around your hand with a plastic and metal spot used to help push the needle through a thick rope, heavy sail, or canvas fabric).
July 11, 2016
We are in Barkley Sound now since Friday late afternoon. We finally left Becher Bay on Tuesday the 5th. The sea had calmed down, there was no longer whistling of the wind through the standing rigging when we went to bed the night before. It was a relief to leave the cove. The two days there had been very windy even though there was no wave action where we were anchored. The noise the wind makes in the rigging distracts me to no end. It is funny though, on the second day I was able to block it out as long as I busied myself with some activity.
We arrived in Sooke Harbor around 1:00 p.m. It was a short trip, motor sailing with one reef in the mainsail. When we came to the mouth of the harbor it was low tide. The entrance at Sooke is tricky with a narrow channel and very shallow water. We turned around and waited another hour before coming in. There is a public dock in Sooke which means it is mostly full of local fishing boats. We lucked out and found an empty spot along the dock to tie up. We were happy to have the opportunity to fill our water tanks, listen to music, charge computers, use electrical outlets on the boat that we can only use when we have shore power. We put away all the paraphernalia needed during a sail; life jackets, lines coiled and stowed in their proper place, radios and electronic navigational stuff (depth, wind, and knot meters)turned off and covered, binoculars, water bottles left on deck. Then we gathered up our dirty laundry, a weeks worth of trash to deposit on the dock in a dumpster, and walked the half a kilometer into town.
The next day was a 32 mile stretch of water along the western end of the Strait of Juan de Fuca. There is nowhere for a boat our size to go if conditions are bad so we listened closely to the weather broadcast on that stretch of the strait the night before. We motored out of Sooke with overcast skies that quickly cleared with a nice breeze. We put up the sails and enjoyed the beautiful weather. Sailing was slow and carefree with the outgoing current giving us some momentum. We only tacked maybe five times total. By the time the current changed the wind was no longer strong enough to make any headway so down came the sails and on went the engine. By then we were three quarters of the way to our destination for the night, Port San Juan. Port San Juan isn’t the most ideal place to anchor, it is open to winds out of the west and northwest. As we started into the inlet a late afternoon wind started. We were just able to anchor in water beyond the worst of the wind. Happily for us the wind died down about 7:00 that evening. It is still light at 10:00 pm in these parts. Maybe it was 8:00 or so when I heard the motor of a boat and some clanking under our boat. Mike ran out on deck with me following close behind. There was a metal fishing boat collecting it’s crab pots. We had drifted over the crab pot that they were trying to retrieve. There were three young guys and they were amazingly close to our boat. As they brought up the crab “pot” ( really a wire cage that traps the crabs) they almost drifted onto our boat. Suddenly they were pushing themselves away and Mike was pushing them away and I grabbed a fender which was not needed in the last moments after all. Phew! Talk about evening excitement! These young fishermen didn’t seem too worried about this situation. They were friendly but not apologetic. We had drifted over their crab pot after all. Alls well that ends well was their attitude.
The next day dawned foggy and rainy with gale warnings along the southwest coast (where we were headed), so we resigned ourselves to staying another day in Port San Juan. We busied ourselves once again with projects needing attention on the boat. Although we had sketchy phone coverage we tried checking in with certain family since they had left a text asking us to call them. We managed to contact my sister and brother in law who live next door. They needed to know what we wanted done with a leaking pipe in our house. Our electronic chart plotter was acting up so Mike fiddled with that a huge part of the day. I had a good book to read and some chores, can’t remember what they were. In the late afternoon we realized the refrigerator wasn’t working properly nor the salt water wash down pump. Another puzzle to be worked out. We checked different things, trouble shooting as they say. After an hour we realized that something must be blocking the “through hull”, ( an opening in the keel of the boat that allows salt water to be pumped into the boat for the operation of the refrigerator and a pump for bringing salt water to the deck for washing off the chain and anchor when being raised out of the mud). We decided someone needed to put on a wet suit, snorkel and mask and have a look at this through hull and try to unblock it. I volunteered. The water wasn’t that cold but their were swells rocking the boat and my wet suit made me too buoyant to dive under. Also I was afraid in the swells that I might bump my head on the hull. I came out of the water and in the cockpit Mike explained that I needed to use a weight belt. By then I was getting cold and basically disoriented by the swells and wet suit. So we quit for the day.
The following day we were able to leave, the gale having blown itself out. We washed off the chain and anchor with buckets of water. There were low clouds and rain awaiting us for the rest of the day, no wind, but plenty of large swells left over from the gale the day before. This day was the longest leg of the journey, 42 miles, and the one with the Pacific Ocean right there with us on the left, Vancouver Island on the right. No more Strait of Juan de Fuca. As we started off, two Orcas appeared about a hundred yards off and swam along with us for a little while. They were an encouragement and I hoped a “good omen” as well. The boat rocked and rolled all day in the swells that were sometimes rather high. There were moments when the boat was in the trough of the swell and one couldn’t see beyond the crest. When I would look through the binoculars at lighthouses or other land marks on the Island the sea was so fluid and unstable it was a bit erie. It was also amazing to see and experience the ocean in such a state. In spite of my feeling of nausea all day long I was determined not to dwell on the discomforts. When Cape Beale came into sight and we were sure it was Cape Beale I was so relieved. A calmness came over me even though it was still an hour or so off. That sense of calmness was a gift because just about that time the waters really became confused, there being swells coming from three different directions as we neared the cape. One was the swells that are constant to the west out of the Pacific, swells from the northwest because the prevailing winds are often from there, and third, swells from the south because of the gale the day before. The waters off the cape are shallow and break on rocks. It’s very dramatic and a scary kind of beautiful. The importance of lighthouses is now a concrete part of my experience. I never dreamed I would see a lighthouse with breaking water all around it from off shore. Mike and I had eaten breakfast that morning but we didn’t eat anything the rest of that topsy turvy day until we were safely anchored at Bamfield Harbor in Barkley Sound. It was one of those first experiences, like child birth, the first birth was a trial, and my initial reaction was “ no thanks, one kid is enough; or one day on the ocean like this is all I ever want to experience”. However I went on to have five children and perhaps I will travel more on the Pacific in the future.
We spent a week in Barkley Sound, exploring a bit but also taking relaxing walks through tiny unpretentious Bamfield town. We took a walk to a local beach with windblown trees and lots of rocks. We found a place called Poett’s Nook and spent two whole days there. It was a lovely salt water cove, so hidden from the coastline with a narrow opening that one could easily overlook it if one didn’t know it existed. It was on the chart and so we found it. Once on the inside of this cove we felt like we were on a small lake in a forest. Huge cedars and firs surrounded the water. At one end of the cove a small stream opened into a small meadow on it’s way to the cove. It was in this meadow on a lazy sunny day that we were watching a small flock of Canada Geese and a Great Blue Heron when a black bear lumbered out of the woods. It proceeded to turn over rocks and rotten logs, looking for something to eat. It saw the birds and ran towards them. All the birds took flight even though we knew that bear wasn’t trying to catch one. Those geese and the heron weren’t going to take any chances! We were in the dinghy observing it all.
We spent three different days sailing around the area, exploring and trying out different sail configurations to match different winds. Barkley Sound us a huge area. I hope we have a chance to visit the place again and explore it even further.
July 22, 2016
Esquimalt Harbor ( six kilometers from Victoria)
We are on the return leg from the southwest coast of Vancouver Island, Barkley Sound. We arrived here after only two days of motoring and sailing plus one day of doing laundry and grocery shopping in Sooke. The mornings started out foggy. For a good three hours the waters were calm except for some gentle swells and all we could see around us was soft grey. We were totally dependent on our compass and the radar. Much to our relief, traveling on the western coast one doesn’t have to worry about ferry traffic or the big freighters that ply their way up and down the Stait of Juan de Fuca. Sometimes we could see a half mile ahead other times it was only a few yards. Then around 10:30 or so the sun would seemingly melt a hazy hole above us in the sky. The fog would still be surrounding us but the grey water would begin to glisten. Pretty soon a patch of blue would appear near the sun, a slight breeze would come up, then suddenly we could see the dark green fur covered mountains on Vancouver Island, the shore still lost in fog. Then our visibility would lengthen and broaden disclosing the coast at last, sunshine, and blue sky, with only wisps of fog fast disappearing. Once the fog dissipated the wind would come up from behind us and we had such awesome downwind sailing with only the jib pushing us along at six and a half knots. That’s as fast as our engine can go but sailing is so much more peaceful. Only the sound of the boat making it’s way through the water. It still delights me to no end. Sailing is really not a very practical way to travel. One has to love it to do it with all it’s inconveniences. For example: waiting for bad weather to pass, not having all our wondrous modern conveniences,( i.e. cell phone and internet service, electricity for lighting and appliances) always available when you want or “need” them, sailing 55 miles to get to a place that is only 32 miles away but because you are tacking while sailing your day will involve more time and miles on the water. Sailing has no place in our practical world, much like mountain climbing, dance, surfboarding, sky diving, and so on. The process involves the whole person. We have to carefully plan ahead so as not to be overwhelmed by the elements, such as wind speed, water currents and their speeds, weather (rain, fog, sun, clouds, temperature), learn different kinds of knots to tie and how to use them, learn specific vocabulary only used in the boating world . One has to physically raise and lower the sails, haul them in when changing directions and adjust to changes in wind direction. We are outside in the wind all day long in all kinds of weather. A good sailing day isn’t necessarily sunny.
Today is our second day in Esquimalt Harbor because there are gale force winds out in the strait but the sun is shining! Yesterday was hot, and clear most of the day. It would have been fine to leave but I wanted to go visit the oldest Canadian light house on the west coast, Fisgard Light House, at the mouth of this harbor. It is still operational but it’s automated so the structure is also open to the public as a museum. We had to get there using the dinghy and our little outboard. It was well worth it but the weather turned during the night and here we are again waiting for winds we can confidently sail with. The sun is out which is good for the spirits.
Yesterday morning and this morning we have been visited by a Great Blue Heron. He lands rather clumsily on the rail at the stern of the boat. He looks at us and we look at him for a few quick moments and then he takes off. This bird has a long neck that folds in on itself when in flight with long stork like legs. It is a large bird to be landing on ones’ boat. He made three stops on our boat yesterday, that is, if it was the same bird. I suppose it could have been another bird each time.
