Alphabet Photography Project
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| David enjoying the view of one of the many beaches on Fury Island last year. |
Shearwater, Fury Cove, Blunden Harbour Octopus Islands Carrington Bay
Things
started off on a disappointing note. When we left Shearwater, we had a good
forecast in hand and planned to stay a couple of night in Fury Cove – walking
on the beaches and generally enjoying life in effort to help make up for a wet
and dreary summer. But the forecast changed significantly overnight and we
risked being stuck north of Cape Caution
From
there, we moved down to Blunden Harbour and steadily made our way south – 40,
50, 60 miles at a time – doing our best to get clear of the mess off lows and
fronts that were moving over the north and central coasts of British Columbia. We
did okay overall and even managed to take a couple of days off to relax in
Octopus Islands Marine Park, one of our favourite spots, but the weather is
moving south as well and the sun filled days promised in the forecast have yet
to transpire.
That
doesn’t mean we haven’t had some good times along the way: We anchored in
Rebecca Spit for a couple of nights and buddy-boated with some friends who live
in Campbell River Carrington Bay
The
season appears to be over here at 50° N, so we’ll be moving further south
tomorrow. The truth is, it was probably over a week ago but there was no sign
of it in the forecast, just the opposite. It looked like things were going to
shape up; the high was moving in again, but it centered too far offshore and we’ve
been barraged by cold fronts, troughs and intense lows. To say it’s
disappointing is an understatement – we were looking forward to a week of
relaxed days in Desolation Sound, Prideaux Haven in particular. But it’s that
time of year again – the equinox is upon us.
Note: This blog was
written on Sunday, 20 September 2015.
Alphabet Photography Project
Alphabet Photography Project | V is for Vessel
Thursday, February 18, 2016TheCambrians
Welcome to another installment of the ‘Alphabet Photography
Project’ and the letter V which stands for vessel . . . or S.V. (sailing vessel) to be more precise. This
picture of Cambria was taken a few years ago in front of Lizette Falls British Columbia
We
left Bottleneck Inlet that morning. The conditions had settled down
significantly from the weekend, but we still had to battle against 15 to 20
knots of wind on the nose and were only making an average of 4.5 knots over
ground: We wanted to get off Finlayson Channel and Jackson Narrows
As
soon as we made the turn into Jackson Passage, the wind died out and it started
to pour (again) reducing our visibility. I can honestly say I’ve had enough of
the season. It’s hard to get my head around how much it’s rained over the last
several days . . . or explain the massive walls of water that pass over the
boat so loudly they can wake you up from a deep sleep. I feel worn down, beaten
and am seriously sick and tired of this – I call uncle! So does David. We just
want it to clear out long enough to get the hell out of here.
But I Digress
We’ve
had some incredible experiences this year, but we’ve had to fight hard for ever
mile we’ve earned (or at least it feels that way right now). When you’re looking
at a 3,000+ mile season, it takes a toll – mentally and physically. If I could
have one wish granted it would to be somewhere sunny and warm, wearing next to
nothing and walking around in bare feet – as nature intended. Not being here wearing
layers with greasy hair and dreaming about my next shower. But it is what it is
and I’d have to settle for the comfort and protection of Oliver Cove Marine Park
Light at the End of the Tunnel
A
beautiful, sunny day can go a long way to help rejuvenate tired sailors. We
left Oliver Cove yesterday, finally making it to Shearwater where the sun showed
its face and we had a very busy day – filling the tanks with fuel, propane and
water; taking hot showers, doing laundry and changing out the raw water pump
(which went from a drip to a gush as we were approaching the dock). We were off
and running again this morning, making way for Fury Cove – our jumping off
point to round Cape Caution – and things are starting to look up: the forecast
is good (for a change), we had a nice sail down Fitz Hugh Sound and, with the
miles we made over the last few days, we’re finally starting to see some light
at the end of the tunnel.
Note: This blog was written on Thursday, 03 September 2015.
Anchorages
Inside Passage
The Central Coast
Bottleneck Inlet: Hiding Out
Saturday, February 13, 2016TheCambrians
Our overall plan is to move south but to take our time and
enjoy some of our favourite anchorages
along the Central Coast Heikish Narrows
The
forecast for the weekend wasn’t the best and we decided to wait out an approaching
low and trough rather than continue to Shearwater – the protection would be a
lot better. The barometer was falling and rain was on its way, but it was still
nice on Thursday so I spent some time in the kayak and talked with another
couple on a boat that had just arrived. They used to live in Sitka Alaska
On
Friday, the heavens opened and it rained down in buckets. The barometer was
steady at 1003 Mb (down from 1014 Mb) and we hoped for the best. The wind blew
a bit during the day but the protection is so good inside Bottleneck that we
hardly noticed. Our Alaskan neighbours stayed put along with us but were off
and running again on Saturday morning despite the barometer having fallen to
987 Mb overnight.
It
was a squally day and we were happy to be tucked up safely. Environment Canada Central Coast
We
were the only boat in the anchorage until four or five o’clock when a sailboat called Dreamketcher came in. We’d seen them a time or two when we were in Alaska BC Oregon Gulf of Alaska
and the remnants of a typhoon from Japan
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| Cambria's movements in red and Dreamketcher's in blue. All distances are outside the range of scope either boat would have had out. |
We
were sitting in the same spot we’d been in since Wednesday: smack dab in the
middle of the anchorage with a view out into Finlayson Channel. Dreamketcher was to the northeast of us,
closer to the head of the bay and seemingly close to shore. David was sitting
in the cockpit keeping an eye on things and playing the guitar. I was down
below drawing, getting up every few minutes to look around as well. The wind
was howling as the front moved inland and we were seeing swirling gusts in the
30s. We weren’t surprised: This was a wicked storm, but Bottleneck Inlet is a
hurricane hole and the fact that we were seeing so much wind ourselves meant
that the situation outside was pretty grim.
A
little later, David said “take a peek at where we’re sitting now.” I looked out
on the port side and could no longer see the entrance to the anchorage . . .
it’d been replaced by a small waterfall. We’d moved 100 metres or so and were
sitting close to the southern shore in 5 to 7 metres of water: We had dragged
but were holding steady again. Another gust of wind soon followed, and we swung
around to 2.1 metres. At that point, we jumped into action, upped anchor and
moved into the middle of the bay. But we couldn’t go back to the spot we’d been
sitting in for the last three or four days because Dreamketcher was there . . . they’d dragged somewhere in the
neighbourhood of 150 metres (best guess), tripping our anchor in the process. The
only thing we couldn’t figure out is how we missed it happening.
We
dropped the anchor upwind of them and got a good set but wanted to keep a
closer eye on things until we felt more comfortable with the situation. We kept the radar on for a while as an
extra pair of eyes, but everything was fine after that. Meanwhile, all was
quiet aboard Dreamketcher – they
hadn’t noticed the commotion or, if they had, they kept themselves hidden. It’s
possible that they were already asleep; their anchor light was turned on
shortly after they arrived. Either way, it didn’t instill a lot of confidence
in their anchoring abilities and we were happy to see they were gone when we
woke up this morning.
Note: This blog was written on Sunday,
30 August 2015.
Alphabet Photography Project
Alphabet Photography Project | U is for Under Sail
Wednesday, February 10, 2016TheCambrians
Welcome to another installment of the ‘Alphabet Photography
Project’ and the letter U which stands for under sail. This picture was taken a few years ago on Father’s Day
as we were crossing the Strait
of Georgia from Nanaimo Pender Harbour
British Columbia
Hot Springs
the Inside Passage
Bishop Bay Hot Springs: Soaking It Up
Tuesday, February 09, 2016TheCambrians
Life moves pretty
fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.
Ferris
Bueller
Blame the sunshine. Blame the natural hot springs Bishop Bay Cambria , anyway. And we were more than happy to pick up on Friday where
Thursday had left off with some kayaking, soaks in the hot springs
The
barometer had been sitting steady at 1015 Mb for the last few days but a cold
front moved into the area early Saturday and dropped the temperature . . . along
with some more rain. John (SV Gypsy Woman)
was eager to continue south and make his way home to Port Townsend to see his
lady, so Impossible Dream and Gypsy Woman left the anchorage that
morning at nine
o’clock . By 11:00 am , they were back. David radioed to make sure
everything was alright. It was. But the wind was blowing 25 knots from the
south in the channel with a corresponding sea state, so they decided to wait
until Sunday. Tom added that he heard someone trying to hail us on the radio –
it was Jim and Laurie aboard SV JouJou!
They
came into the bay and rafted up to us for the night and another great evening. The
reunion was short and sweet, however. Jim and Laurie were eager to make some
more southing as well and they left Sunday morning shortly after Impossible Dream and Gypsy Woman. As for us, we’re not ones
to leave a hot spring in a rush and whenever we stop in Bishop Bay
There
were only two boats left in Bishop Bay
It’s
common for boats that visit Bishop Bay
I
went to the pools after lunch for a long, hot bath and was getting changed when
I noticed “BJ” on our sign. BJ? Who’s BJ?
And what are they doing on our board? And then the penny dropped: The
buggers aboard the fishing vessel (who had just so kindly offered us a salmon)
took our sign down, turned it around, wrote their names on it in permanent
black marker and hung it back up. I bet young Jesse had a real surprise when he
came over to Cambria this morning only to find out we were the boat sign they’d poached
. . . along with that sockeye.
Note: This blog was written on Tuesday, 25 August 2015.
Inside Passage
The North Coast
Wildlife
Going Aground and Tales of Whales
Saturday, February 06, 2016TheCambrians
They say there are two types of sailors: Those who’ve run
aground, and those who will (although
some refer to the second simply as “liars”). And I suppose being high and dry
twice in 15 years isn’t bad percentage-wise, but it’s still incredibly
embarrassing to admit (and yet I am). Embarrassing because it should have never
happened. And increasingly embarrassing because I ignored every sign that clearly
pointed me in that direction.
It
was Wednesday afternoon and the tide was low. I went on deck to launch my kayak
while David was below cleaning the spare raw water pump. We were anchored in
the southeast corner of Nettle Basin
That
evening, the wind picked up out of the northwest quadrant (as it had the night
before). But this time it built to 20 or 25 knots and there were whitecaps in
the bay. I know this because I got up to use the head and looked outside when I
did. Why the simple fact that we were lee-shored and floating over the shoals
didn’t seem to concern either one of us is beyond me. And why the fact that the
door to the head was a little snug didn’t set off alarm bells off in my mind, I
can’t be entirely sure. What I do know is that by the time I sauntered back to
our cabin, it was too late – we were aground.
Complacency.
It’ll get you every time. I can’t speak for David but I feel confident that
with Alaska
There
was no getting free so David got into one of the kayaks and paddled to the
eastern shore where he secured a line from the trees back to Cambria to help keep her from healing
over any more (we were already sitting at a good 30° and the wind was still
blowing). In the meantime, one of the other boats in the anchorage heard the
commotion and shone a light on us . . . and then promptly went inside, shut off
all their lights and went to bed. We didn’t need their help but were pretty
surprised and disappointed by their reaction nonetheless. Finally around two in
the morning, the tide had come in enough that we were floating again. We moved
into deeper water (with less scope), used the line to shore as a stern-tie and
went to bed, shaking our heads at our stupidity as we did.
The
next morning got off to a somewhat inauspicious start: I overslept by an hour,
putting us at odds with the current. And we had to cut ourselves free from a
rope someone left behind when we were upping anchor, which delayed us even
further. From then on, though, things improved quickly and all the ills from
the previous night were soon forgotten.
Coming
down Greenville Channel into Wright Sound we saw (at the very least) 30
humpback whales – some alone, some together and several mothers and calves. They
weren’t bubble or lunge feeding, but it was still amazing to see so many whales
in one place. And if the whales weren’t enough, we were a few miles south of
Tomkinson Point (the entrance to Bishop Bay
Anchoring
in Bishop Bay
There
was still plenty of day left to enjoy, so we did just that. After securing the
boats, we all got ready quickly and went to shore for a soak in the hot springs
Note: This blog was written on Thursday, 20 August 2015 ).
Alphabet Photography Project
Alphabet Photography Project | T is for Territory
Wednesday, February 03, 2016TheCambrians
Welcome to another installment of
the ‘Alphabet Photography Project’ and the
letter T. Today’s installment will be short and sweet . . . T is for
‘territory’. Years ago, during our first season in Canada Central Coast Princess Royal Island
British Columbia
Inside Passage
North Coast
Sailing South for the Winter: Back to BC
Monday, February 01, 2016TheCambrians
Regardless of where we’ve been or what kind of conditions
we’ve encountered along the way, moving
south is always a little depressing . . . and the first real sign that the
season is coming to an end. Even this year, despite all the rain, the thought
of leaving Alaska Prince Rupert
The
conditions were good, but the sky was overcast and gray which made for a long
day. We arrived around 3 o’clock , some ten hours later, cleared in with customs and anchored in
Pillsbury Cove for the night: After more than three months, we were back in Canada
The
next day, we launched the dinghy and I went into town to provision while David
stayed aboard. It was another gray and dreary day and the mist and drizzle did
nothing to improve our moods, so we had to settle for chocolate – thank
goodness for Cadbury . . . and Walmart, which sells it at a discount.
It
was foggy Tuesday morning, but that was no surprise. Prince Rupert 10 am with limited visibility and started to make our
way down to Lowe Inlet. As we passed the Skeena River
The
anchorage at the head of Lowe Inlet was busy when we arrived and the midges were
out in full-force. It’d been another long day, so we had dinner and kicked back
for the night – the rest would just have to wait.
By
10
o’clock this morning, all
of the other boats had left and we had the anchorage to ourselves until the
afternoon. The sun was shining, so I spent the day in the kayak watching the
salmon try to jump up the falls . . . and staying out of David’s way. He’d
discovered a drip off the raw water pump when we were coming down Grenville
Channel and wanted to prepare the spare in case it needed to be changed out,
the preference being to do the work someplace with facilities like Shearwater
in case there’s a problem.
Nothing
physical had changed since we were here in May, but it felt different: Everything
was new and we were heading north to areas unknown. And now we’re moving south,
a depressing but necessary chore. Summer’s almost over; I can feel it in the
air and that, more than anything, has left me feeling sad.
Note: This blog was
written on Wednesday, 19 August 2015.
