S.V. CAMBRIA: Hot Springs Cove

Hot Springs Cove: Alone at Last

Saturday, August 17, 2013TheCambrians

The view from the hot springs

One night anchored in a place as busy as Hot Springs Cove would normally be enough . . . normally. But I can be somewhat obsessive and was bound and determined to get my fill of hot baths without the additional company of fifty strangers. The weather did its part to help my cause: Day after day of approaching frontal systems, weakening lows, dissipating troughs and weakening cold fronts played havoc with the conditions. All along the coast, gale-force southeasterlies blew, causing the sea state to rise, and rain poured down in buckets – the perfect excuse to go absolutely nowhere. And, in all honesty, after moving every day or two, the break was welcomed.

Hot Springs Cove (also known as Refuge Cove for a good reason) offers protection from all quadrants, except the south. The five moorings described in most cruising guides are long gone; but the holding is good in mud and, apart from sailing around a bit at anchor and the wakes from passing boats, we were comfortable as we waited for the weather to pass through. The only challenge was getting Sally to shore. Dogs aren’t allowed in the park so we had to go beyond the best protection from the peninsula into a slight chop and swell to get her to land.

David making the long walk to the hot springs

But today’s a brand new day. The wind has subsided, along with the seas. The rain has stopped. And the barometer’s on the rise, which could explain why David woke up with a rotten head this morning. He doesn’t get headaches very often but, when he does, they can be debilitating. To his credit, he got up early anyway and walked the two kilometres with me to the hot springs, which we were finally had all to ourselves.

Enjoying the time alone at Ramsey Hot Springs

After four trips, I can say with 100% certainty that this is the only way to enjoy them – without distraction and with the one you love. Quintessentially West Coast, the granite pools look out onto the Pacific Ocean as waves crash along the rocky shore, unfolding an impressive scene. It truly is beautiful but tourism has made a significant and negative impact on a place that otherwise would be among our favourite hot springs (that honour goes to Bishop Bay where the water is odorless, the temperature is just right, and pools are easily accessible). Sadly, the daily influx of tourists and the facilities built to accommodate them have sanitized this natural wonder.

As if on cue, the first tour boat rounded the corner at 9:00 am as we gazed out to the Pacific and we knew our time was limited . . . in 30 minutes the silence would be interrupted, replaced by the chaos of excited tourists. Even still, it was difficult to leave this place behind, in all its scenic ruggedness, so we lingered until the first sightseer appeared and it was time to move on.

British Columbia Hot Springs Hot Springs Cove

Reflections on the West Coast: The World According to David

Wednesday, August 14, 2013TheCambrians

I’m not really sure how or why, but the website’s a task that’s fallen to me since its inception. I’ve asked David to contribute here and there over the years, but it hasn’t been something that he’s been interested in doing . . . until now. So, without further ado, I give you David:

Solitude at anchor: Cambria alone in Rae Basin

At anchor in Hot Springs Cove:

Reflecting on the past twenty or so days cruising the north and central sections of the west coast of Vancouver Island, it occurs that, while not as spectacular as the scenery and surroundings of the Central Coast or as kindly as the waters inside Vancouver Island, this area has a unique attraction, a rough charm all of its own.

As an unprotected coast open to the influences of the Pacific Ocean, cruising these waters is, at least, challenging. Changes in conditions brought about by approaching and weakening weather systems, some at a considerable distance, the occurrence of frequently dense fog, and the very nature of the coast itself with its many off-lying rocks, scattered reefs and shoals, require a crew to be constantly aware and performing to their best abilities. Couple this with the natural anxiety in rounding the major local west coast capes – Scott, Cook, the Brooks Penninsula, and Estevan Point – the dangers and difficulties of which are supported by a history littered with numerous accounts of lost ships and crews and it is clear that this is not a venture to be approached casually. Despite the challenges, the solitude found in many of the areas, the absence of noise and bustle which accompanies busy population centres, and the rugged nature of the area and its few inhabitants are, in some strange fashion, alluring; almost magnetic. A sense which is difficult to describe in words. It’s almost as if the locals carry with them the unspoken attitude “not only can we survive in this area, we thrive in it, and given the choice, would not wish to be anywhere else than here.” I can understand that.

A fellow cruiser, in speaking of the Inside Passage and the cruising grounds inside Vancouver Island, commented that “the easy cruising there encourages poor seamanship.” I entirely agree – we have witnessed many such examples first hand. Throughout the trip thus far we have only encountered serious, skilled people, intimately familiar with and embracing the challenges of cruising this area. No “weekend warriors” here since I suspect that attitude would be the shortcut to calamity. Prior to spending time along this coast it was not truly apparent how much of a misnomer Desolation Sound, with its anchorages harbouring boatloads of holidaymakers packed in from shoreline to shoreline, really was. Perhaps desolate during George Vancouver’s time but no longer. Sharing an anchorage with float planes and water taxis coming and going, once a novelty, is now just an unwelcome intrusion; a reminder of a populace governed by time, schedule and convenience rather than the cycles of nature. Some distant place; in attitude,a million miles from here. There was a time when I too was one of those people. Now I share nothing in common and can barely understand them.

We are now a little more than halfway “down” the coast and, although I am looking to the next anchorages with eager anticipation, I am already starting to mourn the passing of the “wild north coast”, its remoteness, its solitude, its tranquility, and its unabashed rugged beauty.

The rugged west coast during a southeasterly blow

British Columbia Hot Springs Hot Springs Cove

Hot Springs Cove: A Hot Time in the City Tonight

Tuesday, August 13, 2013TheCambrians

We departed Rae Basin this morning, running into heavy fog as we exited Hesquiat Harbour, and made way for our next destination, Hot Springs Cove. With less than 100 feet of visibility, it was a little nerve wracking, to say the least, but something we’ve grown accustom to in the month that we’ve been cruising these waters.

Once inside the cove, it was sunny and warm. And busy. After days of solitude and peace and quiet along the“wild coast”, nothing can quite prepare you for the immediate assault on the senses from the hustle and bustle of water taxis, whale watching boats and the endless arrival and departure of float planes with groups of tourists aboard. It begs the question: where’s the solitude now? So we spent the afternoon sitting in the cockpit watching the constant flow of arrivals and departures, attempting to make it fit within our experiences of sailing down the West Coast, but it was an impossible task.

As the name implies, Hot Springs Cove is home to a natural hot spring, the only one along the coast, and is an incredibly popular spot during the summer months. The best advice to visiting yachts is to go to the pools in the morning or evening in order to avoid the crowds, so we waited patiently for the tourists to leave before making the trip . . . but not without some resentment. We worked hard to get here and the fact that you can walk up to window in nearby Tofino and purchase a ticket simply doesn’t seem right . . . or fair. But it is what it is.

The boardwalk leading to the hot springs

The trail to the pools consists of a two-kilometre stretch of wood boardwalk that takes you through a beautiful section of coastal rain forest, a highlight of the park that’s often overlooked. Many of the planks have been carved with the names of boats that have visited the over the years, a tradition first started by the fishermen who sought refuge from bad weather in the cove. Some have been professionally crafted while others are merely a rudimentary attempt at leaving a mark behind. But they all make for interesting reading during the 30-minute hike to the hot springs.

The hot springs at quieter times

The water that feeds the spring travels along a fault, five kilometres deep, where it’s heated before pressure forces it back to the surface through fractured rock at a temperature of about 50° C (122° F) – a little too hot for comfortable bathing. The smell of sulfur hangs in the air and steam rises from a creek that finds its way down a ten-foot granite wall before spilling into three rocky pools that form small tubs, each with a decreasing temperature, on its way to the Pacific Ocean. I’m sure under the right circumstances it’s very beautiful, but our timing was bad. The Pacific Swift, part of a summer sailing program for kids, had arrived in the anchorage while we were eating dinner and made their way to the hot spring – all 39 of them – without our realizing it. The pools, which can hold 10 to 15 people comfortably, were littered with bodies and it was difficult to find a spot to squeeze into; but we managed and had a nice chat with one of the volunteers aboard the ship who told us more about the program, which certainly has merit (even if it does impose on your own personal adventure).

We’d hope to steal away a few minutes on our own, but by the time the SALTS group left, it was getting dark and we were overheating so we made the long trek back to the dock with the aid of dimming flashlights feeling somewhat disappointed. Back aboard Cambria, we sat on the deck of the boat and watched the beautiful square-rigger swing at anchor in the moonlight while we discussed our plans. With the realization that we’re more than half way through our trip, our reluctance to move on has grown (along with our desire to gain some space between ourselves and the Pacific Swift) and the decision came easily – we’ll give Hot Springs Cove another chance while we wait out some strong southeasterlies and higher seas that are forecasted to move through the area.

Hot Springs Cove: Alone at Last

Reflections on the West Coast: The World According to David

I’m not really sure how or why, but the website’s a task that’s fallen to me since its inception. I’ve asked David to contribute here and there over the years, but it hasn’t been something that he’s been interested in doing . . . until now. So, without further ado, I give you David:

Hot Springs Cove: A Hot Time in the City Tonight

Welcome Aboard

Follow Us on Facebook

Blog Archive

Blog Categories

Featured Post

Why Sail to Southeast Alaska? Ten Reasons You Should Go

Popular Posts

We Survived!