S.V. CAMBRIA: August 2012

Prideaux Haven, Desolation Sound Marine Park

Friday, August 31, 2012TheCambrians

British Columbia Desolation Sound the Inside Passage

Walsh Cove, West Redonda Island

Sunday, August 26, 2012TheCambrians

Walsh Cove Provincial Marine Park (left).

We left Shoal Bay late yesterday morning to hit slack tide through the final set of three rapids, Dent, Gillard and Yuculta, and made our way to Walsh Cove Marine Park along Waddington Channel for a few days of rest and relaxation.

I chose Walsh because it’s a nice place to kayak and relatively quiet compared to other Desolation Sound anchorages but forgot that it’s deeper water which will make hauling the anchor more difficult for the windlass. The charts show 10 metres (33 feet) in areas but, in reality, it’s more like 25 (83 feet). Our other option was to go down to nearby Roscoe Bay where the water’s more shallow, but it always seems to rain when we’re there. It’ll probably rain anyway, but there’s no sense in tempting Mother Nature. So we bit the bullet and dropped the hook.

While we had a cell phone signal, I sent a text to Jeff and Karry. We’ll be meeting them this week and are really excited to spend some time together on the water after so many years of their searching for a boat. It sounds like they’re several days behind us and won’t reach Desolation Sound until Tuesday or Wednesday, which works well for us. Right now we’re too tired to socialize and really need to catch up on some sleep – something that’s difficult to do when you’re tied to a dock.

The barometer fell significantly over the last 30 hours – from 1019 MB to 1005 MB – and the current forecast is like a jumble sale: a little bit of everything all over the place – a dissipating trough, a ridge, a low pressure system. But it should begin to clear by Wednesday which leaves us to do absolutely nothing over the next couple of days, just what the doctor ordered!

At this point in the season, we’ve travelled close to 1300 nautical miles and are ready to just sit and relax for a few days. But that didn’t last long. Before I knew it, David was in one of the bilge compartments installing a preliminary filter to the intake valve for the water maker which compelled me to polish the stainless steel in the cockpit and clean some of the plastic clears in the process. So much for a little bit of R & R.

British Columbia the Discovery Islands the Inside Passage

Shoal Bay, East Thurlow Island

Friday, August 24, 2012TheCambrians

British Columbia the Inside Passage

Pruth Bay to Forward Harbour

Wednesday, August 22, 2012TheCambrians

Johnstone Strait and the damage she's incurred from logging.

The past few days have been a blur of activity. We left our anchorage in Pruth Bay on Monday for Blunden Harbour which then turned into Beaver Harbour which quickly became Port McNeill, travelling more than 85 nautical miles in 11.5 hours. The conditions were ideal. There wasn’t enough wind to sail but the seas were flat with a low westerly swell (less than 0.4 metres) with a nice push from the southerly current. You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, even it it’s not the one you’d hoped for, so we kept going and going and going.

The adjustment is difficult – like going from the sublime to the ridiculous. Port McNeill is a very useful stop along the way. It’s a great place to do laundry (I managed to do ten loads in under two hours) and convenient for re-provisioning (if you hit the market before the vegetables have gone soft). But it’s dirty, smelly, noisy and we wanted to leave as soon as possible. So after a very busy day yesterday, we upped anchor this morning and went to the fuel dock to top up the tanks, unload the rest of the rubbish and walk Sally before moving on.

I have to admit that I was really looking forward to our passage down Johnstone Strait. The forecast was for winds from the northwest around 15 knots and building in the afternoon – perfect for a leisurely downwind sail. But the strait was flat calm most of the day to the point that I even sat on the deck to take in the scenery as it passed by – an absolute first! But the landscape, though dramatic in its own right with the mountains of Vancouver Island to starboard and the coastal mountains in the distance to port, has been severely damaged by logging and pales in comparison to the untouched beauty of the Central Coast.

It was a long day and we had to deal with a slight head current most of the way, but with the settled conditions we made it to Forward Harbour (55 nm later) where we promptly had dinner, took Sally to shore and climbed into bed. The fact that we’d just managed to accomplish in three days what it took us 12 to do on the way north wasn’t lost on us. But we’re not finished yet. Tomorrow will be another early morning to time our passage through Whirlpool and Green Point Rapids before we’re finally ready to stop a few days in Shoal Bay to rest up.

British Columbia Fitz Hugh Sound The Central Coast

Pruth Bay, Calvert Island

Sunday, August 19, 2012TheCambrians

West Beach, Calvert Island.

As it turned out, the forecast for the weekend didn’t materialize. What was supposed to be sunny and warm turned overcast with thunderstorms both yesterday and today. It was a little disappointing, spending so much of our time hiding from rain showers rather than exploring our final anchorage of the Central Coast. But more disappointing is that we’re beginning to see changes in the weather and forecasts that just aren’t holding up – in other words, the beginning of the end.

We did have one more beautiful day on Friday when we went to shore and walked across to West Beach. The beach, though not quite as impressive as those we’ve seen in the South Pacific, does compare with those along the west coast of the US, particularly Northern California and Oregon where coniferous trees are the norm. Regardless, it was a really nice change to hear the crash of the waves and walk barefoot along the warm, sandy beach dipping a toe or two in the cold water – now I can say I’ve had my foot in the Pacific from New Zealand to (nearly) the top of Canada. Not as exciting as the touching the two poles, but it’s a start.

The sea state is down and the forecast is good, so we’ll be leaving tomorrow morning with the tide. If all goes to plan, we’ll be able to take benefit from the ebb (which flows to the south) before it changes to flood at Cape Caution (which also flows to the south) along with a northwesterly breeze to sail in.

The fact that our time along the Central Coast has ended is sad for both of us. The area is without a doubt one of the most beautiful places and best cruising grounds in the world, and we’ve enjoyed every last minute of our time here. Day by day and mile by spectacular mile, we explored our way along the coastal mountains through a complicated labyrinth of channels, inlets and fjords. We saw some of them most incredible scenery the world has to offer – waterfalls, snow-capped mountain tops, glacial valleys and domes – all from the comfort of our home, a privilege we don’t take for granted. And as much as we’d love to linger in the area, it’s time to go. If the weather patterns haven’t already started to change (which we believe they have), they soon will.

I know in describing ourt ime here that I’ve used so many superlatives that it borders on exaggeration, but the opposite is true – when it comes to recounting our experiences and how stunning the area truly is, words fall short. The land here speaks to us in a very personal way. We have an affinity for the remoteness of the area – the seclusion and the need to be self-reliant. And leaving is difficult. Very difficult. We’re fortunate and can come back next year if we like. But you only have one first time, and now that’s over.

British Columbia Fitz Hugh Sound The Central Coast

Pruth Bay, Calvert Island

Thursday, August 16, 2012TheCambrians

The Hakai Institute, Pruth Bay

We got up early Wednesday morning and went into Shearwater to fill the propane tanks, buy some groceries and take Sally for a well-deserved walk before upping anchor and moving on – the sooner the better as far as we’re both concerned. The place holds no character, or characters, and simply isn’t for us. But Sea Otter Inlet is, so we motored for a while before hoisting the sails in Lama Passage and entering Dean Channel where we were treated to another really nice sail … this time, up wind.

It was a long day of tacking back and forth across the channel, but we both had a great time doing it. I had the helm to start but made the mistake of handing it over to David for a short break. I really should have known better because that was the last I saw of the helm for the day. David was having such a good time pushing the boat as close to the wind as he could and trimming the sails that I didn’t have the heart to ask for it back – that man loves to sail and we see so few opportunities to do it up here.

Along the way, we dropped below 52° N … a very sad day indeed. But it’s time. It’s getting late in the season for such high latitudes. But all’s not lost. The forecast for the next week is really good so we decided to compromise a bit and take a look at a few new anchorages along the outer islands on our way south.

I normally do the preliminary research and chose our anchorages. Sometimes I hit and sometimes I miss: Today was a miss … at least to start. I chose a couple of spots in a group of islands called The Spider Anchorage in the Hakai Recreation Area, the largest provincial marine park on the coast of BC. According to the cruising guides, you can find some of the most varied and scenic coastline here – from lagoons, sandy beaches to all-weather anchorages. Sounds perfect, right? But pristine comes at a price and that price is the area isn’t particularly well-charted and houses a lot of hazards in the form of rocks and reefs.

So we left Sea Otter Inlet this morning and made our way down to Nalua Passage, which separates Hunter Island from Stirling and leads to Queens Sound and the Hakai Recreation Area. From studying the chart, I’d expected some protection from the outer islands. But once through the passage, we were in a one metre westerly swell with breaking waves. We didn’t like what we saw so we got into clear water, turned around and made our way back to Fitz Hugh Sound. Whether we liked it or not, we were going south and moved on to our final anchorage along the Central Coast for the season – Pruth Bay on Calvert Island.

At the head of the bay there’s a former fishing lodge and resort that was sold three years ago and is now the Hakai Institute, a non-profit social enterprise that works in partnership with area universities, First Nations, BC parks and others to offer research opportunities (everything from environmental law to archeology) and is studying the area’s geological and ecological history, particularly over the15,000 years since the last ice age. There’s really nothing special about Pruth Bay itself as far as anchorages go. It’s a popular stop and there are several other boats here which is always a negative for us. But it’s what lies on the western side of the bay that we’re here to see – a white, sandy beach rumoured to be as beautiful as any you’d find in the South Pacific. But after having had enough excitement for one day, we opted to save the exploration for tomorrow.

British Columbia The Central Coast the Inside Passage

Klemtu to Shearwater

Tuesday, August 14, 2012TheCambrians

The Big House in Klemtu

We’re here, but we’re not there. We left Fifer Cove yesterday morning in light rain and managed to get through Meyers Passage before we were hit with 28 knot winds from the southeast. The rain and wind persisted and visibility was poor, which can be quite tiring, so we tucked into Jorgensen Harbour for the night and were given a first-hand lesson on how the area manages to receive 174 inches of rain a year. It wasn’t heavy. It wasn’t thick. But it was soaking wet and lasted all … day … long. Neither one of us had seen anything like it before.

The rain ended sometime overnight and we left Jorgenson Harbour in light fog this morning. At this stage, we’re out of fresh food and running low on propane, fuel and water so we stopped in Klemtu, a First Nations village of about 500. But the band store wasn’t stocked very well and they were out of propane, so we had to bite the bullet and make our way to Shearwater, a large marina and fishing resort, on Denny Island. But not before taking a tour of the Big House from local guide, George.

The Big House and all of its contents are constructed from cedar and the workmanship, from the carvings to the structure of the building itself, is impressive. It was built about six years ago in effort to protect and maintain the First Nations’ culture. Many residents, George included, were raised without knowing their own language because of strict efforts by the Europeans to “convert” natives and are now finding their way back through songs and dance. Unfortunately, we didn’t learn much more than that, but it was still worth the detour.

There are only so many hours in the day and we still had 40 nautical miles to go, so we said our good-byes, dropped our lines and continued down Finlayson Channel. Along the way, we had a really nice downwind sail – wing on wing, one of my favourites – and were treated to another hot and sunny day. Maybe summer isn’t over, after all!

Before we knew it or were ready to end the afternoon, we were in Shearwater. We hadn’t seen so many people or boats in weeks, and the change came as a huge shock to our systems and quickly dampened our moods. But they have what we need, food and propane, so here we are. Besides,it’s only for one night so we bit the bullet, set the anchor and went into shore for dinner at the pub.

British Columbia The Central Coast the Inside Passage

Fifer Cove, Princess Royal Island

Sunday, August 12, 2012TheCambrians

Fifer Cove, Princess Royal Island

We gave Pine Creek in Bay of Plenty another try yesterday, or at least I did. I spent much of the afternoon paddling around the bay in my kayak in hopes of catching a glimpse of the elusive spirit bear, but it wasn’t meant to be. Not there, anyway. So we upped anchor this morning and moved four nautical miles up-inlet to Fifer Cove, a beautiful spot with a creek which leads to a lake and has B•E•A•R written all over it.

Shortly after dropping anchor, we launched the kayaks and went to the mouth of the creek. Unfortunately, there was no possible way to reach the lake without going ashore and putting ourselves into a vulnerable position, so we sat and watched. There was a dead salmon lying on the rock and I was a somewhat optimistic that we’d see a bear, but it not this trip – it’s still too early in the season. And even though it was the sole reason we came to Laredo Inlet, we weren’t disappointed. These things happen in their own time and when they do, the experience is well-worth the wait.

But that’s not what today is really about. Since 1986, the 12th of August has been a very important date to me. It was on this day, twenty-six years ago, that my nephew, Steven Michael Wittrig, was born. Ten years later, Sally entered the picture. And three years after that, David and I officially began our lives together.

Sixteen years is an amazing accomplishment for a dog and real cause for celebration, as is a relationship that’s managed to survive 13 years. But Steven Michael is no longer here for us to wish “happy birthday”, so it comes as no surprise that what should be a great day is bittersweet – we just miss him so much. So it was a quiet day but, because Sally won’t have many more birthdays in the future, we did have a “cake” for her complete with candles and hats. Not that she cared. She didn’t. But simply because sometimes it helps just to be silly.

So … Happy “Sweet 16”, Sally. Happy Anniversary, D. And Happy Birthday, Steven Michael … you are forever in our hearts.

British Columbia The Central Coast the Inside Passage

Bay of Plenty, Princess Royal Island

Friday, August 10, 2012TheCambrians

Cambria anchored in Bay of Plenty.

After a day of rain on Wednesday, we left Bottleneck Inlet yesterday morning and moved 13 nautical miles to Jorgensen Harbour where we spent the night to wait for slack tide at Meyers Passage.

The word “narrow” doesn’t begin to describe Meyers. For one nautical mile, you have to work your way through a shallow fairway that constricts down to less than 50 feet wide and is lined with bull kelp. On the bright side, it’s pretty straight forward and well charted, but nerve racking nonetheless. And we had no choice other than to slowly motor through the kelp, picking up a hitchhiker along the way, in order to reach our final destination for the season, Laredo Inlet, where we hope to see spirit bears.

The “spirit bear”, or Kermode, is a subspecies of the black bear that lives along the central and north coast of British Columbia and has a recessive gene which causes their coat to be white or cream-coloured. The population is estimated to be 400 to 1,000, with the majority inhabiting Princess Royal Island and Laredo Inlet in particular. Looking for bear can be a lot like searching for a needing in a haystack. You have to be in the right place at precisely the right time and, considering how vast the area they roam is, that’s not an easy task. But we decided to give it a shot anyway and dropped our anchor in Bay of Plenty.

We took the dinghy up Pine Creek, which is more similar to a wide and shallow lagoon than a creek as it turns out, and floated around for a while but didn’t notice any signs of wildlife before finally giving up and going back to the boat. I did, however, see a genuine First Nations’ totem pole transitioning back to nature when I took Sally to shore. It’s difficult to describe the emotion such a thing evokes; again, it’s something you have to see to understand. We’ve seen hundreds of signs of man’s earlier existence in our travels – from petroglyphs to middens – but this was quite special … and eerie. I couldn’t help but feel that I was being watched.

Nature taking back a totem in Laredo Inlet.

British Columbia The Central Coast the Inside Passage

Bottleneck Inlet, Finlayson Channel

Tuesday, August 07, 2012TheCambrians

Bottleneck Inlet.

The problem with the windless still exists so we decided to stay in Windy Bay yesterday so David could take another look at it, cleaning the contacts and changing out the connectors in the process. It performed well for the first ten out of forty metres this morning as we were upping anchor, but then it was back to business as usual. It seems we have a real problem on our hands. In its current condition, if we need to leave an anchorage in a hurry due to weather, it’s not possible.

In hindsight, the issue first appeared a year ago in the Copeland Islands near Desolation Sound. The breaker on the windlass kept tripping out and there seemed to be a lot of strain as if we were fouled on something (not unusual in areas where logging has occurred). When the anchor came up clean, we assumed the chain was getting caught in the rocks. It’s happened a couple times since then, but over the past week has proved to be a real problem. One that could mean a new windlass in the very near future – assuming we can make it through the season with this one. Until then, the rode is standing by in case we have to switch from chain because we’ll never be able to haul it by hand if the windlass fails completely – David’s strong, but not that strong. This is turning out to be an expensive year, but Cambria’s at that age (13) where things are beginning to wear out and need to be replaced (i.e. the through-hull and valves). I just hate to consider what’s next.

It would have been nice to spend more time in Fiordland to enjoy the scenery (rather than work), but we need to move on so we left Windy Bay this morning and made our way down Sheep Passage to Finlayson Channel and our next anchorage, Bottleneck Inlet. Once again, the landscape is much lower than that along the Coast Range, the highest summit being 450 metres (1,400 feet), but it’s a well-protected anchorage and a cozy spot to spend a day or two while we wait for the next weather system to move through the area.

British Columbia Fiordland The Central Coast

Mussel Inlet, Fiordland Recreational Area

Sunday, August 05, 2012TheCambrians

Oatswish Bay in Mussel Inlet.

The plan for the day was to travel up Mussel Inlet, the western boundary of Fiordland. Our expectations weren’t high. By all accounts, we’d seen the best of the best yesterday in Kynoch, but Mussel Inlet has merit beyond what’s described in the cruising guides: Whereas yesterday the word “amazing” fell short, today it was “spectacular”. Regardless of the superlative, the hundreds of pictures we’ve taken pale in comparison to the actual beauty of Fiordland, and everywhere else along the Central Coast. You simply have to see it to believe it.

First up was Oatswish Bay where we found Lizzette Falls crashing down into the sea. We’d expected to see a waterfall based on the chart, but the fact that it was bigger and more impressive than Kynoch Falls, which is often called one of the best in British Columbia, came as a real surprise. The rest of the bay was just as stunning with more of the steep,snow-capped mountains and alpine scenery that Fiordland is known for and would have been the ideal place to spend the day paddling around in the kayaks, but it’s too deep for anchoring so we had to move on. If there’s one complaint to be made about Fiordland, that would be it. A lack ofanchorages. And, of course, the abundance of horseflies.

After drifting around in front of Lizzette Falls for a while, we continued up Mussel Inlet, dwarfed by the enormity ofthe mountains lining both sides of the narrow channel, and dropped the anchor at the head. I decided to brave the biting flies and launched my kayak for a closer look while David pulled apart the windless which has been giving us problems over the past few days (he joined later me so don’t feel too sorry for the poor sod).

There were two other boats already anchored, one a charter businesses carrying a group of Japanese tourists from Prince Rupert to Bella Bella. Both groups saw a mother grizzly and two cubs along the creek yesterday. We considered going ourselves in the dinghy but, because the inflow winds were beginning to pick up, decided it was time to leave so we upped anchor and started to make our way back to Windy Bay for the night.

As it turned out, our timing was impeccable. We were travelling down Mussel Inlet and David saw a large splash about a half-mile off our bow. And then another. And another. It turned out to be a humpback whale full-body breaching. We followed him for a while but weren’t able to capture much of his performance on “film”. But what an incredible performance it was! He played around for about ten minutes before taking a final dive and sending us on our way. Neither one of us had seen anything like it before. It was, well, for lack of a better word … “spectacular”.

A humpback whale breaching in Mussel Inlet.

British Columbia Fiordland The Central Coast

Kynoch Inlet, Fiordland Recreational Area

Saturday, August 04, 2012TheCambrians

The head of Kynoch Inlet.

We left Rescue Bay this morning and motored north along Mathieson Channel. The landscape continued to be fairly ordinary until we crossed the “line” into Fiordland Recreation Area where everything suddenly seemed to change: The mountains grew steeper and more beautiful. The forest more lush and green. And the wilderness more wild and complex.

A couple of miles beyond the park border, Mathieson Channel forks to the east and you enter Kynoch Inlet. Within minutes Kynoch Falls, a strikingly beautiful waterfall fed by Lessom Creek, comes into view. And as you continue up-inlet, the snow covered peaks and ridges with vertical granite walls rise over a thousand metres (3,500 feet) before disappearing straight into the sea below. Because of the park status, the area hasn’t been logged and appears as it has for hundreds of years– a humbling fact. Layer after layer of snow-capped ridges and densely-wooded mountains line the inlet, waterfalls marking the curve of time along their steep faces. Just when you think you’ve seen the most beautiful view, another one even more spectacular comes into sight. The word amazing falls well short.

All too soon, we arrived at the head of Kynoch, which culminates in heavily snow-capped ranges to the west, and dropped the anchor to consider our options. Culpepper Lagoon, believed to be the best of Fiordland by many, lies at the head but is protected by roaring rapids which can be transited at high water slack … an hour and forty-five minutes’ wait. The entrance is large enough and deep enough for cruising boats to enter, but it’s uncharted. So we waited.

Another sailboat that was there when we arrived entered the lagoon 45 minutes before slack water, either because they wanted enough time to exit if they couldn’t find a spot to anchor or because slack water is difficult to estimate. Either way, they were pushed to the south as they entered but made it through safely. We followed shortly afterwards in the dinghy and spent the next hour touring the lagoon. We considered bringing Cambria in for the night, but neither one of us cared for the entrance … or the limited anchoring options.

As amazing as the scenery was, most of it was visible from outside the lagoon so we went back to the boat and got things ready to move on. It had been another long and hot day and the horseflies were out with a vengeance (David now believes kynoch is Danish for horsefly … he could be right). From the head of the inlet, we motored south back to Mathieson Channel, this time turning north to the narrows before leaving the park boundaries behind us for what will be our home base while we explore the area over the next few days, Windy Bay in Sheep Passage.