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.