After a quiet day yesterday, we untied our dock lines and left Princess Louisa Inlet this morning at 6:30 for Ballet Bay – some 7 hours away. As difficult as it is to describe what it's like to spend time in one of the world's most beautiful fjords, equal to the task is explaining how bittersweet it feels to leave. Perhaps it defies explanation, or that it's so dynamic that it eludes it. More than likely, it's a different experience for everyone who enters and exits its grandness.
Saturday was another leisurely day starting off with floating around on the kayaks after lunch, an early dinner aboard and after-dinner drinks on deck as people roamed the docks.
Cambria ended up being a focal point and David held court while I showed Anne, from Blue Rodeo, around and tried my best to answer some of her questions about provisioning a boat. I'm afraid I wasn't much help – it's been seven years since our passage to Tonga from New Zealand, and we tend to eat more simply than most people on the water.
Meanwhile, James sat in the cockpit of Norma Mae and played his twelve-string guitar – such a beautiful instrument. Craig, from the launch Mary Kay, pulled up a stool (literally) with a drink in hand and listened to the concert. This is when Ann, Craig's wife, came up with the idea for a potluck dinner the following night. Smart woman!
Sunday, we woke up to Princess Louisa Inlet showing one of her many different personalities in the form of heavy mist, low clouds and more waterfalls – it was simply magical – resulting in a quiet morning aboard Cambria.
I spent time researching possible routes to The Broughtons while David worked on Mark's computer. In order to travel north of Desolation Sound, we'll have to transit several rapids in the process and timing will be everything. Up until now, everything we've done has been a repeat of last year, but The Broughtons will be unknown territory for us and the options are overwhelming.
By the afternoon, the rain-clouds had moved out and we had fine weather for our dock-potluck dinner Рand what a great time it was! We had five boats taking part: Slow Ride, Mary Kay, Cambria, Blue Rodeo, and Norma Mae. Everyone brought their own entr̩e and a side-dish to share while the drinks flowed freely. After dinner, James and David pulled out their guitars with most songs resulting in singing, dancing, and always applause. It was an incredible of evening of sharing stories and making new friends; something neither one of us will soon forget and were loathe to end Рit was 11:30 pm before the party stopped and we piled back aboard Cambria.
Just another brilliant day in the most incredible place on earth....
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| July 2009 |
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| June 2010 |
Words can't describe how wonderful it is to be back in Princess Louisa Inlet – it's akin to coming home. It's our fourth visit, but each time different from the last and I'm struggling to recognize the landscape. There's more snow along the mountain ridges than there was last July resulting in countless waterfalls from the summer melt and Chatterbox is roaring like we've never seen it before. I had hoped to take another hike up to Trapper's Cabin today, but there's too much run-off making it dangerous with the shoes I have aboard. It's disappointing, the view alone is worth the climb, but things should be drier when we return in September.
With no hiking in the near future, we decided to take the kayaks out for a couple of hours after lunch, so I paddled over to the small waterfall where we like to bathe in the afternoons to have a look around. As I was paddling, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. And I was. Every now and again, I would see the head of a seal quietly peaking out from the black water staring at me with its large eyes. And then another one. And another. I was surrounded. I'm sure there are some people who would have found the moment magical, but I'm not one of them. For some unknown reason, I find seals eerie, so I dug in and quickly made my way to shore.
The niche where we used to shore the dinghy was filled in with gravel from the once gentle stream that is now roaring from the thaw. Last year, there had been a clear trail from the shore to the pool of the falls, but that path has been covered by debris – broken trees and rocks. I wasn't able to make it to the pools, but I did get a good look at the powerful falls feeding them. One thing was clear, all of our bathing would have to be done on Cambria.
By the time I got back to the boat, David was already there playing the guitar on the aft deck. It didn't take long before James, our neighbor from Norma Mae, stopped by for a chat and a promise to get together and jam before everyone leave.
One more boat came in with the evening tide, Blue Rodeo, out of Idaho. Mark and Anne are circumnavigating Vancouver Island before sailing down to Mexico for the winter with plans to land in New Zealand in 2012 – something that always gets David and I excited, if not envious. They certainly have the boat for it and were kind enough to give David and James a tour while Anne and I sat in the cockpit where we soon joined by Ann, off of Mary Kay, and talked.
It's going to be a good stay....
Our favourite spot on the dock is waiting for us at Chatterbox Falls.
We upped anchor at noon and slowly started making our way to Princess Louisa Inlet, once again, to time our arrival at Malibu Rapids for slack tide – 7:06 pm.
It was another beautiful day on the water with the wind blowing 15 knots in the Strait of Georgia and funneling into Jervis Inlet. We threw out the jib in hopes of catching some of it and sailing down; but it turned shifty before eventually dying out, so we furled the sail and let the motor do the work.
The sun was shining and the day was warm, so we were able to spend time outside on the deck enjoying the view as it passed by at a leisurely 6 knots, leaving some of the work to the autopilot – Cambria, after all, knows her way.
We arrived at Malibu Rapids a little early, but didn't see any overfalls, so we went through and made our way to the government dock at the head of the inlet. Our regular spot (end of the dock and on the outside) was open, so we tied up and I took Sally for a well-deserved walk. It'd had been another long day, so called it an early night and let the sounds of Chatterbox Falls lull us to sleep.
We left Nanaimo around 11:30 this morning after spending a couple of days anchored off Newcastle Island. Given more time, it would have been nice to explore some of the many hiking trails, but we're both eager to cross the Strait of Georgia and start making out way to Princess Louisa Inlet.
It was another long day made even longer by the fact that Whiskey Golf, a restricted deep-water military exercise range operated by the Canadian and US Navies to test non-explosive torpedoes and various ships' systems, was active, so we had to detour around the area adding another hour or so onto the passage. But the water was calm and there wasn't much wind (squashing all of our hopes of sailing across), so we made it across the strait and over to Pender Harbour, where we'll anchor for the night, without a problem.
Morning in Ganges on Salt Spring Island
We left Bedwell Harbour yesterday morning and motored up to Ganges, a small town on Salt Spring Island, in search of veggies not grown in Mexico, the internet, and inspiration. What we found is a quick reminder that Ganges isn't one of our favourite places.
A lot of people like it here because of the town's many restaurants and shops, but it's too busy for us – both on land and the water. The anchorage is crowded with mooring balls and boats and, from dawn until dusk, float planes that take off and land regularly. The town itself is dirty with few places to walk Sally, the main destination being a park which seconds as a hang-out for the homeless during the day. I suppose the best way to sum up Ganges, for us, is depressing (if not depressed).
For the first time, our visit coincided with the Saturday's Farmer's Market, reputed to be one of the best in the area, so I took a look around while doing laundry. There were more than fifty stalls set up, but most of the vendors were hawking arts and crafts – wooden bowls, knitted hats, candles, soaps, jewelry, etc. – rather than produce which was disappointing. So I spent most of the afternoon in the laundromat reading an old copy of Cruising World and visiting with a local guy named Derek.
With the laundry done, we'll leave in the morning for Nanaimo timing our departure for slack tide at Dodd Narrows, one of the many saltwater rapids along the south coast of British Columbia, to take care of some business and cross the Strait of Georgia.
Poet's Cove Resort in Bedwell Harbour.
This morning, with papers in hand, we untied from the mooring and motored north to South Pender Island in Canada. We hadn't been across the border for more than ten minutes when a Canadian Border Services inflatable came speeding up behind and startled us both. Our VHF radio wasn't on, and they were likely trying to hail us and became concerned when we didn't respond. David went down below and grabbed the handheld so they could ask us a few questions: Where are you coming from? Where are you going? And said, we may see you at the dock.
Once we arrived in Bedwell Harbour, we tied up to the custom's dock to check in. David brought all of our paper work up to the kiosk and picked up the phone to speak with an agent and answer questions about ourselves and the goods we had on board (you're limited to a small amount of alcohol and tobacco while certain fruits and vegetables are forbidden). According to the conversation, our vessel would need to be boarded for an inspection.
The agents who had stopped us while transiting were on station and David had already apologized for the confusion before poking his head into the office to tell them it looks like they'll need to come aboard.
By this time, the two agents who had stopped us while transiting were on station and David had apologized for the confusion. After the phone call, he told them it looks like they were coming aboard when they asked if we were all set. One answered that they weren't unless, of course, we had something good to eat. Sorry. Not this time. So they issued us our entry number and we were on our way. Welcome to Canada!
But the truth is that we were lucky. Even though the agents are polite and leave no evidence of their inspections, they spend hours rummaging through every nook and cranny of a boat looking for undeclared items. As to what happens when and if they find something, depends on what they find.
Even though it was still early, we'd lost the advantage of the incoming tide for travelling north, so we anchored off the resort in Bedwell and relaxed the rest of the day away.
Friday Harbor on San Juan Island.
We left Port Ludlow this morning with the tide for Friday Harbor on San Juan Island. The passage up and across the Strait of Juan de Fuca was good. Better than good, really. There wasn't any wind, but what began as an overcast and gray morning turned into a beautiful day on the water. And, with some help from the currents around Marrowstone Island and Point Wilson, we made over 11 knots at times helping us complete the 46 nautical mile trip in five and a half hours.
Once in Friday Harbor, we tied up to the custom's dock to check out of the US. Since we brought Cambria into the country in 2007, she was on what's called a “cruising permit” which allowed her, a foreign-registered vessel, to sail US waters freely for up to one year. All of that changed last November when we re-entered the country, forfeited our cruising permit, and were issued a Standard Entrance which now requires us to check in AND out of the country, but without time restrictions.
Because we're generally met with confusion and different interpretations of the law when dealing with US customs, we weren't sure what to expect from the change (the left hand rarely seems to know what the right hand is doing). But, aside from the moment when we thought they were going to draw their weapons on David, it went surprisingly well. He must have taken one too many steps in the “wrong” direction when looking at a chart hanging on the wall because the next thing we know, they're yelling, GET BEHIND THE COUNTER, SIR!!! They apparently thought he was going to threaten them with a file folder and inflict some nasty paper cuts.
Somehow or another, we managed to avoid an international incident (yet again), paid our nineteen dollars, received a Standard Clearance form to “bookend” our entrance, and made our way back to the boat and out to anchor. It was only five o'clock, but we were tired from a long day, so we grabbed a mooring ball, had some dinner, and called it a night completely ignoring all the offerings of town.
Port Ludlow Falls
After saying our final good-byes for the season to Jan, Don and Jonathan (the last ones standing), we fueled up Cambria and left Poulsbo with the tide last Thursday evening. Four hours later, we were about 25 nautical miles north tying up to the linear dock in Port Ludlow – the same spot we finished the season out in last year (fortunately, the night was a lot more restful this time around). With plans for an early morning departure the following day, I walked Sally, we said a quick hello to some friends, and called it a night. The alarm went off at 5 am (such an ungodly hour) and we drug ourselves out of bed to a gloomy morning of fog and mist, so we climbed back in and put our departure off until Saturday.
Later that morning, the inverter (a piece of equipment that converts dc power to ac and runs everything from our DVD player to vacuum cleaner) stopped working. If it hadn't happened to us, it might funny at some point because of the irony – David spent months putting together a solar panel array to help recharge the batteries, and the one piece of equipment that allows us to consume the most energy fell over. Unbelievable! The mood was fairly grim most of the day as he tried to get people to respond to his phone calls and was ready to sell the boat to the next person with more than $20 pocket change. But by Saturday, things had calmed down and we decided that we'd just manage with what we have (two small 110 volt inverters) to run the computer and deal with the rest in October.
Even though we're not operating at full-demand, we're very happy with the job the solar panels and MPPT are doing. On Saturday, there was hardly a cloud in the sky and we put in over 120 amps of power back into the batteries – starting as early as 5:30 am – and rarely ended a day with a deficit. In five days at anchor, we saved over 20 engine hours and $60 in diesel, but the biggest difference we're seeing is how much weight has been lifted off of David's shoulders. He's no longer held captive by our energy needs and doesn't have to spend up to four hours a day recharging the batteries – morning, noon, and night – which leaves more time for exploring.
Alas, conjuring up adventures in Port Ludlow can be difficult. It's a quiet spot centered around a resort inn and golf course where people come to relax or retire. There are a couple of “hiking” trails in the area, so we sought one of them out which took us to a small local waterfall. It's a nicely kept loop and we had a good walk around the old-growth forest. We also took the bus up to Port Townsend one afternoon to do a bit of grocery shopping and have lunch (no, I'm afraid we skipped Waterfront Pizza this time around). We hadn't been to the recently built Northwest Maritime Center yet, so we stopped in for a look around and were pleasantly surprised. In addition to the gift shop/chandlery where they sell everything from pirate treasure maps to copper nails, there's a workshop where volunteers and professionals (re)build wooden kayaks, dinghies, and sailboats with the goal of educating and promoting interest in the general public. All and all, it's an impressive addition to a town known for its wooden boat heritage.
Now we're just sitting and waiting for the weather to clear so we can make a run across the Strait of Juan de Fuca and up to Friday Harbor on San Juan Island. The forecasts have been “wishy-washy” (in the words of the NOAA meteorologists) with favorable conditions predicted in the morning and a complete revision issued in the afternoon which has left us guessing for the past few days. If the current forecast holds, we'll leave tomorrow morning with the tide. If it doesn't, well, there are worse things you can do than spend another day in Port Ludlow!
It's been fairly quiet aboard Cambria this past week but that could change very soon. With the majority of work done, we're now looking at the weather and will drop our lines as soon as things settle down a bit which could be as early as Monday or Tuesday. At this point, it's difficult to say because the forecasts from NOAA are all over the place, as is the weather. According to the local newspaper, this May was the third worst in 25 years with June looking like it's going to bring more of the same. I guess the old joke that summer doesn't begin in Puget Sound until the fifth of July is based in truth after all. I just hope the punch line isn't that it ends on the sixth!
We've seen enough sun over the past few days to get a feel for how the solar panels are going to perform. At first glance, it looks like we're going to be very happy, and they'll be able to handle our energy needs under decent conditions. If that's the case, it'll be a great change from last season when David spent up to four hours a day tied to the boat in order to charge the batteries.
