S.V. CAMBRIA

Alaska or Bust

Friday, June 05, 2015TheCambrians

Looking back, it’s difficult to believe we were in Shearwater only a week ago . . . so much has changed. Only two hundred miles have passed under Cambria’s keel, but the landscape, at least here in Prince Rupert, is entirely different – more “West Coast Industrial” than “Inside Passage”.

But I’m getting ahead of myself again.

The stretch of water along Princess Royal Channel is arguably the most beautiful and dramatic section of the Inside Passage, especially this time of year when the mountain ranges lining the channel are still capped with snow and waterfalls deliver the melt to the sea in powerful flows. In hindsight, I wish we would’ve take more time to enjoy it – Khutze Inlet, in particular, where we later learned a family of grizzlies were feeding along the shore several days in a row. But we were anxious to reach one of our favourite spots, Bishop Bay Hot Springs.

As always, Bishop Bay was a welcomed treat and we lingered several days, enjoying long, hot soaks until our fingers looked like prunes.

From Bishop Bay, we continued north to Lowe Inlet off Grenville Channel where we finally dug out our inflatable kayaks to explore the anchorage and simply laze about, soaking up the warm sun. Lowe Inlet is a beautiful spot and it was tempting to stay another day but, in the end, we decided to finish out Grenville Channel and make way for Prince Rupert on Friday. The forecast for crossing Dixon Entrance looked good for Sunday or Monday: Alaska was calling.

It was a long day, made even longer by a dreary landscape cloaked in an overcast sky. Hour after hour, we slogged our way north: First through the wind and chop, then later through the current off the Skeena River. By the time we’d finished the 60-mile passage, we were ready to call it a day. And we did.

Come Saturday morning, we were ready to launch the dinghy and see what Prince Rupert was all about.

The truth is, on the surface, it looks a lot like any other coastal city in British Columbia: Cafés, restaurants and souvenir shops line the main road. Tourists roam around in search of the next bear or whale watching adventure. And locals go about their daily business, ignoring the rest.

What sets it apart is a world-class cultural museum, The Museum of Northern British Columbia.

But the city also boasts one of the deepest natural harbours in the world and is the fastest route to and from Asia, so it’s an important trading port for the Asian market. In fact, trade has played a central role in the economy here for 10,000 years – from the first arrivals after the glaciers melted to present day. It’s the reason the city was founded and the reason it continues to exist when so many other communities along the coast faded away.

Day after day, ships arrive to unload cargo from

Japan

and

China

which are then loaded onto freight trains bound for Toronto, Detroit and Chicago. Or placed onto barges and towed down to communities in southern British Columbia. Meanwhile, other ships are here to fill their holds with grain and coal before returning wherever it is they call home.

Like I said . . . a world apart from the solitude of the Inside Passage.

Inside Passage Ramblings From the Dockside

Lazy Days and Boat Jobs: Mixing it up in Ocean Falls

Saturday, May 09, 2015TheCambrians

We only intended to spend a couple of days in Ocean Falls but found the appeal of being tied up and plugged in too much to resist; before we knew it, two days had turned into four.

It’s difficult to say what we had to recover from – a week of being pummeled by high winds, two long days on the water listening to the constant drone of the engine, or both. But we were tired and needed some time to rest up and get some boat work done.

For me, it was a list of mundane chores – paying bills, making reservations for Glacier Bay, sorting the trash so it could be incinerated, washing the deck. For David, it was the water maker. When we were in Gorge Harbour a few weeks ago, he attempted to commission it and discovered the high pressure pump wasn’t working. We have a rebuild kit aboard, so he left the job until we reached Ocean Falls where he could have access to a workshop if he needed it. But what he was really doing was taking the time to work through the issue in his head before he attacked it.

In the end, the pump didn’t have to be rebuilt. When he took it apart, everything looked pretty good. He did think one of the valves was sticking a bit though and discovered that there was a whole set of o-rings that hadn’t been installed. So, he cleaned it up and added the o-rings and now it works better than ever. The funny thing is I’ll be surprised if we use it at all this season, but it’s good to know it’s there and working if we need it.

With the job complete, we said our good-byes and dropped our lines yesterday afternoon, making our way down to Shearwater for the night. Normally we’re reluctant to leave Ocean Falls, but not this time. Now that we’re rested up, we’re excited to reach areas we haven’t seen before. Or maybe we’re just looking forward to soaking in the hot springs in Bishop Bay; it’s a tough call.

This next section of the Inside Passage will be “dark” – no wifi or cellular signals to keep us connected. And that’s fine. We always seem to be more productive without the distraction anyway, or at least I am. So, the next time you hear from us we’ll be in Prince Rupert, the last Canadian city before the

border. Technically it’s four or five day away, but we have no idea how long it will take. That’s up to Mother Nature . . . and us.

Catching Up With Cambria the Inside Passage

Movin' On Up

Thursday, May 07, 2015TheCambrians

After spending eight very long days held up in Blunden Harbour, waiting for a series of lows, cold fronts and occluded fronts to move through the area, we finally got our chance to cross Queen Charlotte Sound and round Cape Caution on Sunday morning.

We were determined to make up some time, so on our first day we sailed 74 miles . . . well, we motor-sailed. If you’ve ever travelled these waters by boat, you know how tiring it can be: Keeping a constant eye out for floating debris (logs and kelp) wears you down, especially in overcast conditions. So, by the time we reached Sea Otter Inlet along Hunter Island’s east coast, we both were more than ready for the day to be over.

Sea Otter Inlet is a special anchorage and it was tempting to take Monday off, but we were excited to reach Ocean Falls to see our friends, Rob and Corrina, who own and operate the lodge there. And, if I’m to be perfectly honest, the thought of a long, hot shower was pretty motivating as well.

We had our first real access to the internet in weeks and there were two things I needed to take care of right away: (1) order a gift for my mom for Mother’s Day and (2) make our reservation for Glacier Bay (something I should have done weeks ago). In the end, gift cards won out over flowers, and we can’t get into the park until the fourth of July. It was a little disappointing at first, but the later date actually takes a lot of pressure off – now if we run across a special anchorage on our way up, we have the time to enjoy it.

We have one more major boat job to take care of while we’re in Ocean Falls. David went to commission the watermaker a few weeks ago and discovered the high-pressure pump wasn’t working. After running a few tests to verify the fact, he pulled the pump out yesterday with plans to rebuild it today. Hopefully it’ll go well. If not, we’re back to sponge baths and dreaming about long, hot showers until we can get our hands on a new pump (which won’t be this season).

Tomorrow we’ll move down to Shearwater to top up the diesel tanks (the heater is killing us with fuel consumption!) and to buy some fresh food. And then it’s back up the Inside Passage to Bishop Bay Hot Springs, where I’m sure we’ll spend some of that extra time we just received soaking in the pools.

From there on, it'll all be new to us.

Inside Passage Queen Charlotte Strait

Groundhog Day . . . in April?

Saturday, May 02, 2015TheCambrians

The chart of Blunden Harbour (situated at a slant to the west). We're anchored off Grave Islet.

You know the movie “Groundhog Day”? The one where Bill Murray plays an obnoxious weather man stuck in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania and is destined to relive the same day over and over again? Yeah. That pretty much describes our life right now: Groundhog Day.

We’ve been sitting in the same anchorage for ~~six~~ ~~seven~~ eight days now waiting on the weather conditions to settle. And every day has been similar to the last.

Faced with an ugly forecast, we upped anchor Friday morning (that would be last Friday) and left Forward Harbour in search of someplace to ride out the storm. By Sunday, winds were expected to reach 35 knots from the southeast in Johnstone Strait, 40 knots in Queen Charlotte Strait and 50 knots in Queen Charlotte Sound – it was promising to be an active weekend!

Choosing the right anchorage wasn’t an easy decision. On the one hand, we wanted to get as far down the “road” as we could before we had to stop. But on the other hand, the weather was predicted to be worse to the north. So, we came up with a few options – Blunden Harbour, Allison Harbour, Deserters Group, the Walker Group and Clam Cove (Nigei Island). In the end, it was “a better the devil you know” decision and we chose Blunden Harbour, an anchorage we’ve visited several times over the years.

Red sky dawning. Sailors take warning.

“Cue the wind.”

Round one started early Sunday morning. The wind filled in and blew steadily. All. Day. Long. The anchorage was uncomfortable as the chop built up, but the anchor held its own while reports of 50+ knot winds (with gusts to 60) hit Cape Scott, only 45 miles to the northwest of us.

The wind softened over night, giving us some relief, but continued to blow on Monday and built again around 11 that night. We already knew we could take it, but David stayed up until the wee hours of the morning to keep an eye on things. I was awake as well, listening to the wind howl all around us, but stayed in bed after realizing there was nothing for me to do. David finally gave up the watch himself around 3 o’clock, long after it was clear our biggest issue would be finding a way to sleep through the noise and motion.

By late-morning, the worst of the weather was past us; but it was the fourth night (out of five) that one (or both) of us had lost sleep because of the conditions, and we were beginning to feel the effects.

“Well, it’s Groundhog Day . . . again.”

Since we arrived in Blunden Harbour, we’ve fallen into a regular routine and every day looks pretty much the same:

Get out of bed, crank up the heater and take a look at the day.
It’s pouring down rain and blowing like crazy, so go back to bed.
Get up again an hour later and make a cup of tea.
Listen to the 4:00 am weather report (at 9:00 am).
Make another cup of tea.
Charge the batteries.
Pull down the 10:30 am weather report and radio-faxes from the internet.
Study the 10:30 am weather.
Have a cup of tea.
Lunch!
Take care of boat chores or find something else to pass the time (but not before making another cup of tea).
Listen to the 4:30 pm weather report.
Make a cup of tea.
Dinner!
Top up the batteries.
Watch a movie.
Make a cup of tea.
Listen to the 9:30 pm weather report.
Go to bed.

Rinse and repeat.

“Watch that first step. It’s a doozie!”

With the worst of the weather behind us, we’re now waiting for the sea state to die down. Our next leg takes us across a 20-mile stretch of open ocean, not a great distance by any means, but it’s . . . a doozie. Or at least it can be.

Dramatic shoaling occurs along Cape Caution (a well-named landmark) and the seas there can be high and steep. Local knowledge dictates that boaters wait until the swell is in the one-metre range before going around. And, after reaching a high of more than five metres on Sunday, the wave height seems to be stuck around 2.2. I know that doesn’t sound like much, especially in open water. But add counter-currents, shallow depths and wind on top of the swell and you get short, square seas – all beam on – that can knock your teeth out.

So, here we are in Blunden Harbour, eight days after we first arrived, but it looks like our patience may finally pay off. The wind is forecasted to go light overnight and, hopefully, that will result in a more favourable sea . . . or at least it should.

If we do make it out of here tomorrow, the irony won’t be lost on me. The date, after all, will be the third of the month . . . the day after Groundhog’s.

Inside Passage the Discovery Islands

An Exercise in Patience

Thursday, April 23, 2015TheCambrians

British Columbia Ramblings From the Dockside the Inside Passage

Conquering Aztecs and Lending a Name: Hernando Cortes

Friday, April 17, 2015TheCambrians

Cruising the Inside Passage is a history lesson waiting to happen. All the greats (and some not-so-greats) have lent their names to the countless inlets, islands and bays along the coastline. Sometimes the answer is obvious: Vancouver, Bligh Cove, Cape Cook. And other times . . . not so much: Tod Inlet (named after John Tod, a Hudson Bay officer), Dodd Narrows (named after Captain Charles Dodd who worked for the Hudson Bay Company for 25 years), Bute Inlet (named after John Stuart, the third Earl of Bute).

So, when some of our friends told us about a book that documents the origin of coastal names in British Columbia, I had to buy one.

It’s all in the name.

We were motoring up the Strait of Georgia a few days ago when David started to hum the extremely annoying (and, sadly, catchy) ABBA tune “Fernando.” A bluesman and classic rocker by nature, I had no idea that he’d even heard of ABBA, let alone knew one of their songs well enough to hum it, so I had know why: Why was he suddenly tormenting me with this bubble-gum melody that was destined to stay with me for the rest of the day? And more importantly, how could I stop it.

The why turned out to be simple: we were approaching Hernando Island to our starboard. Hernando, Fernando. Potāto, potăto.

It was time to pull out the newest addition to our library (“British Columbia Coast Names: Their Origin and History”) and find out who this Hernando was and why he has an island named after him. Come to find out, he was a pretty interesting and historically important fellow whose life not only merited one island naming, but three – Hernando, Cortes and Marina.

Hernando Cortes was born in

Spain

in 1485 and was a conquistador by profession. In 1511, he sailed to

Cuba

where he became secretary to the governor, a powerful and prestigious position. In 1518, the governor put Cortes in command of an expedition to conquer

Mexico

, but retracted it at the last minute due to a disagreement between the two men. Cortes went anyway. And on the night of June 30, 1520 he succeeded in over-throwing Montezuma and causing the fall of the Aztec Empire.

As a reward, Cortes received royal honours (despite his mutiny) and was named the Marquis of the Valley of Oaxaca in

Mexico

. During his time there, he oversaw the building of new cities (including Mexico City), sponsored further exploration of

Mexico

and promoted the conversion of the natives to the Roman Catholicism . . . basically changing

Mexico

forever. From all accounts, Cortes was a man who was dissatisfied with life and constantly strove for more wealth and power. In the end, he would die in

Spain

, bitter and broke.

But that only explains two islands – Hernando and Cortes – what about Marina Island?

No great story in history would be complete without the help of a woman, and Cortes’ biography is no exception. Marina Island is named after his mistress and interpreter, Doña Marina, who helped counsel the Spanish in their attack against the Aztecs. She later bore him a son.

So, there you have it. The man who won

Mexico

for

Spain

and toppled the Aztec Empire lives on in British Columbia. The accompanying Montezuma’s Revenge, however, does not.

Want a copy of British Columbia Coast Names for yourself? You can buy a used copy on amazon.com for a penny (plus shipping)!

Boat Maintenance Living Aboard a Boat the Inside Passage

The Third Law of Motion

Wednesday, April 15, 2015TheCambrians

“For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.” Newton may have written his Third Law of Motion to explain the nature of physics, but the principle is equally true philosophically. In the physical world, the relationship is immediate but in the philosophical world, the “action” and “reaction” can take place days, weeks, months or even years apart.

Some call it karma.

The idea that opposing forces work together to create balance in the universe is nothing new: Newton declared his laws of motion in 1686 and the Chinese philosophy of Yin and Yang dates back to 700 BC. And it seems to me that nowhere is the axiom more true than on the water.

The start of this season has been no exception.

Boats leaving the United States don’t have to check out with customs unless they’re foreign registered and have entered the country under a Vessel Entrance or Clearance Statement, like we do. We had a cruising permit issued when we first arrived in the US in 2007 but found it didn’t offer the flexibility we needed, so we made the switch to the VCS. The price we pay for the added flexibility is that we have to check in and out of the country, which is rarely a pleasant experience.

After being told several years ago that we couldn’t use Roche Harbor on the west side of San Juan Island as a port of entry/departure, last year one of the officers said we could. It’s more convenient for us, so David called customs to confirm before we left last week and was given the okay.

Our passage across the Strait of Juan de Fuca was fairly ordinary. What little wind we saw was from the northwest, so we motor-sailed the seven hours to nearby Garrison Bay for the night. David decided he should call customs again to make sure our paperwork was in order for an early departure the next morning and spoke with Officer Holmes, a man who clearly hates his job. Long story short, he was told that we wouldn’t be able to leave from Roche Harbor and needed to present ourselves on the opposite side of the island in Friday Harbor – costing us 20 miles against the current.

And while we berated ourselves for being stupid enough to believe we could check out of the country based on our personal convenience (and the word of two officers), we held on to the fact that we’d caught a glimpse of at least one of J-Pod’s newest calves as we made our way up Haro Strait the day before. If we had gone to Friday Harbor directly, we would have missed the experience. And while passengers on a whale-watching boat are guaranteed to see orcas, for those of us just moving through the area, they’re not a common sight.

With the

behind us, we continued north and spent our first night in

Canada

in Montague Harbour. I woke up early Monday morning and used the computer to do some writing and shut it down when I was finished: That was the last time it would work.

David initially thought the hard drive had failed (a $50 fix) but it turned out to be the graphics card, which can’t be replaced. We had moved up to Nanaimo by then, so he picked up a drive enclosure (a case that turns an internal hard drive into an external one run off USB ports) and is in the process of transferring data to our backup laptop.

I’m not sure what positive in life will balance out the cost of a new computer, but at least we don’t have to buy one in a panic . . . or with Microsoft 8! We should be able to get through the season with what we have and might even be able to take advantage of a Black Friday sale.

Ten years gone.

On the ninth of April in 2005, David and I stood on a hilltop overlooking the Hauraki Gulf in a suburb of Auckland,

New Zealand

and promised our lives to each other. I have no idea where those ten years went, but I know they were good ones and I wouldn’t have spent them with anyone else – David is the best decision I’ve ever made (unfortunately, I can’t speak for him).

Our anniversary coincided with a layover in Nanaimo, a small city with full amenities, which meant we were able to get off the boat to enjoy a meal out to celebrate. But it also coincided with a scheduled haul-out, which means we spent it on the hard rather than in a romantic, secluded anchorage.

Planning a haul-out for April is a bit of a crap shoot when it comes to the weather – wind, rain and cold days are the norm as the Pacific High fights for dominance over the lows that roll down from the Gulf of Alaska. But we couldn’t have asked for better weather. Since we left Washington, it had been sunny and warm and we finished anti-fouling and waxing the boat in record time. After three days (two where we worked like crazy and one where we chased down bits and pieces for the laptop in the boatyard’s courtesy car), we were back in the water and moving north again.

What goes up must come down.

A falling barometer announced the end of our beautiful, sunny days and the weather was forecasted to take a turn for the worse late Friday afternoon as a large low pressure system formed in the Gulf of Alaska. We were expecting rain and winds around 10 to 15 knots from the SSE and that’s exactly what we saw when we left Nanaimo. But the wind quickly built to a steady 20 knots with gusts around 25, and the Strait of

Georgia

lived up to its reputation of being an ugly stretch of water. Getting across was hard work and getting harder every minute, so we decided to stop halfway and pulled into Deep Bay, Jedediah Island Marine Park (insert link).

It turned out to be for the best. Deep Bay is one of the most protected anchorages in the area and was a good place to ride out the gale-force winds that blew for four days.

It all even out in the end . . . sort of.

So, we may have travelled more miles than we needed to, had yet another problem with US Customs, lost our main computer, brought out another thousand (BOAT) for a haul-out and were stopped in our tracks by bad weather but we got to see orcas, had a backup laptop aboard that should see us through the season, celebrated ten years of marriage and had a safe anchorage offer us shelter when we needed it most.

It may not have been the best start to the season but, all and all, it hasn’t been a bad one either and sometimes that’s all you can ask for: The rest evens out in the end.

Alaska the Inside Passage

The Journey Begins

Thursday, April 02, 2015TheCambrians

Cambria fuels up before leaving Kingston.

There’s an old Chinese proverb attributed to Lao Tzu that reads, “a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” That’s so true, especially in a literal journey that will take you three times as far: But regardless of the distance travelled, everyone has to start somewhere and we’re no different.

Our journey to Alaska began yesterday.

We didn’t get very far, nor did we intend to – only 17 miles up the “road” to a friend’s dock where we’ll spend the next couple of days organizing the boat, watching the weather and waiting for one final package to arrive from UPS.

But that’s not really what this blog is about.

To make things a little easier as we embarked on our 3,000+ mile season, David and I took a “divide and conquer” approach. Because we still need to use our truck before we store it for the next six (possibly seven) months, I drove it to our destination while he sailed Cambria there. And I have to say, I didn’t like it one bit.

For a couple that’s lived in a small space for the last 14 years, we still manage to have our own lives: I have my interests. David has his. And it’s not unusual for one of us to be off doing our own thing. In fact, when we’re tied to land, it’s the norm. But when it comes to Cambria, we’ve travelled every mile together with one tiny exception and, yesterday, I was quickly reminded how much I hate being separated from the boat . . . and David.

He might starve to death if I weren’t around, but David doesn’t need my help. He’s perfectly capable of handling Cambria on his own, as am I. But life’s not about what you can or can’t do. It’s about the steps you take towards your journey’s end and who you choose to take those steps with. I chose David years ago. And then Cambria chose us: We’re a package deal.

And so, our journey begins.

Despite the fact that we have routes planned, we don’t really know where our steps will lead us or the experiences we’ll have along the way. What we do know is that we’ll take them together, David and I . . . one step at a time.

Want to follow along as we make our way north to Alaska? Like us on Facebook or follow us on Twitter and Instagram.

From one dock to another, Cambria takes her first step towards Alaska.

Alaska or Bust

Ports and Passages

Lazy Days and Boat Jobs: Mixing it up in Ocean Falls

Movin' On Up

Groundhog Day . . . in April?

An Exercise in Patience

Conquering Aztecs and Lending a Name: Hernando Cortes

The Third Law of Motion

The Journey Begins

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!