Monday, June 19, 2017
Sunday, June 18, 2017
The Engine Mechanic's Hat
Being a skipper means you have to have a few extra hats on hand. I might not always know what I’m doing, but hey: that engine room floor looks clean enough to eat off of. That’s gotta count for something.
Saturday, June 17, 2017
Awesome Soup and Rowdy Locals - 6/17
It was a much nicer day today, as we worked our way eastward through Juan de Fuca Strait, than it would have been if the starter motor had not decided to burn itself to smithereens. What exactly is a smithereen? In any case, while we waited for the replacement part, hobbled in that sorry excuse for an anchorage, a storm rolled though with gale force winds blowing up the strait. At least in that respect, it worked out well. Clear skies replaced stormy skies, calm replaced gale force winds, placid water replaced chop and swell and a burned out starter motor was replaced by a brand new one. It dutifully fired up the engine this morning and off we went into the wild blue yonder. At last.
The passage to Sooke Harbour was blissfully uneventful. I have to report though that the boaters around these parts are in serious need of some manners. To get into the protected water you travel through a narrow passage that makes a shallow dog leg left. There isn’t a lot of room to maneuver, but that doesn’t stop the locals from flying through on two wheels, practically taking the paint of your hull on their way by. I’m thinking: really?! Is that necessary? Apparently so.
We found the indentation that passes for an anchorage in this bay and it's full of crab pots. Nice. But, always a glutton for punishment, we put our hook down anyway. All will be well as long as the wind doesn’t come up from the east and blow us in the wrong direction.
Kevin and I lowered the genoa shortly after our arrival and Vi put on a pot of soup. The furling genoa is coming down because I’m going to hand it off to the sailmaker in Port Townsend on my through for survey. She’ll let me know what maintenance it needs or whether replacement is a better option. It looks to me to be in good shape, if a little green in places from algae, but she has a finer eye for these things.
And the corn soup was awesome.
Friday, June 16, 2017
On the road again! - 6/16
The new starter motor is in and working. It was a lazy day of waiting, but after doing a whole lot of nothing for what felt like a fortnight, the part showed up late in the day. Finally there was something to do: engine work. What fun.
Tomorrow morning we will finally be on or way to Sooke, after three miserable nights in this barely protected anchorage.
There was one other notable event around mid-day: a Zodiak visited us carrying law enforcement and customs officials, one each. They wanted to see that our paperwork was in order and everybody had a pfd. I'm happy to report they left satisfied.
It feels so good to be mobile again.
Tomorrow morning we will finally be on or way to Sooke, after three miserable nights in this barely protected anchorage.
There was one other notable event around mid-day: a Zodiak visited us carrying law enforcement and customs officials, one each. They wanted to see that our paperwork was in order and everybody had a pfd. I'm happy to report they left satisfied.
It feels so good to be mobile again.
Fingers Crossed - 6/15
Quijote has hit a bit of a snag, a minor catastrophe if you like. Yesterday morning we roused ourselves early to do a 38 mile day to Sook. I asked Kevin to fire up the engine a few minutes early to give the batteries time to charge a little before we fired up the electronics. This is becoming increasingly necessary as we proceed, so it's looking like a full replacement of the house batteries will be in my future after I return home. Kevin did as I asked and the engine was purring away as it always does. Moments later a wail started coming out of the engine room, followed by billowing smoke. We shut the engine down and took stock. The starter motor was burned up. My guess is that the pinion gear got stuck in the engaged position and it burned itself up.
What to do. We were anchored in Port San Juan near the town of Port Renfrew. Thankfully Vi and Thomas had mobile phone service. Thomas had to be in Victoria the next day, so we had three things to work out: finding a new starter motor, finding a way of getting it to the boat, and finding a way to get Thomas into town and on the bus back to Victoria.
The last of those was accomplished with the help of a fishing boat and some phone calls to the bus company. So we're down to three again.
I called a marine supply in Sook and they were able to find the right part in Vancouver. It's being overnighted to Sook, but unfortunately Port Renfrew is remote enough that no delivery service operates out here. They suggested I call places around town and see if I could find anyone making the drive. With low expectations I called the marina, and hit the jackpot on the first try. The woman in the office is making the trip this afternoon, when the part is expected to arrive, and will pick it up for us. Then she'll ask her husband to run it out to us in his boat. What luck.
So we wait. If everything works out as planned, we'll have the part in hand this afternoon, a day and a half after destroying the old one. If the part is delayed or it's the wrong part, we'll be waiting a lot longer. Best case, were home two days late. Worst case, we start worrying about our food, water, and battery levels. It's been a stressful kind of boredom.
Meanwhile gale force winds are blowing out in the strait making it a boisterous, stressful kind of boredom. Vi has been sitting in the cockpit to mitigate the nausea that comes with so much rolling around at anchor. We can't wait to get out of here.
What to do. We were anchored in Port San Juan near the town of Port Renfrew. Thankfully Vi and Thomas had mobile phone service. Thomas had to be in Victoria the next day, so we had three things to work out: finding a new starter motor, finding a way of getting it to the boat, and finding a way to get Thomas into town and on the bus back to Victoria.
The last of those was accomplished with the help of a fishing boat and some phone calls to the bus company. So we're down to three again.
I called a marine supply in Sook and they were able to find the right part in Vancouver. It's being overnighted to Sook, but unfortunately Port Renfrew is remote enough that no delivery service operates out here. They suggested I call places around town and see if I could find anyone making the drive. With low expectations I called the marina, and hit the jackpot on the first try. The woman in the office is making the trip this afternoon, when the part is expected to arrive, and will pick it up for us. Then she'll ask her husband to run it out to us in his boat. What luck.
So we wait. If everything works out as planned, we'll have the part in hand this afternoon, a day and a half after destroying the old one. If the part is delayed or it's the wrong part, we'll be waiting a lot longer. Best case, were home two days late. Worst case, we start worrying about our food, water, and battery levels. It's been a stressful kind of boredom.
Meanwhile gale force winds are blowing out in the strait making it a boisterous, stressful kind of boredom. Vi has been sitting in the cockpit to mitigate the nausea that comes with so much rolling around at anchor. We can't wait to get out of here.
Thursday, June 15, 2017
We're not There - 6/14 (reprise)
It's been raining off and on all afternoon. I'd been thinking that it would be nice to take the dinghy to shore and hike a while on the West Coast Trail today, but setting up the dinghy and making our way to shore in the rain doesn't sound very appealing. It's been a quiet afternoon of reading instead. Having a dry place to retreat to out of the rain feels especially comfy with folks in tents on shore. They're either waiting to begin the trail tomorrow morning or have completed it and are waiting for the shuttle back to Port Renfrew.
It stopped raining for a bit, so I went up on deck with my binoculars to have a look around. The clouds were hanging low over the hillsides and the air was saturated with moisture. The hikers were out of their tents, walking around on the sandy beach, some digging in their packs, some tending to food bags hanging in the trees around them. It must have been a relief for them to finally be able to get out and walk around.
Those of us who have done much backpacking know what it's like to be driven into the tent for long periods by rain: the difficulty of keeping wet sand out of the tent, the pervasive condensation on the inside of the rainfly, the difficulty of keeping anything dry, and the angst of a full bladder - dreading having to do something about it. Then the following morning, there is the horrid job of rolling everything up wet. But, if the next day is dry all is well, because setting up the tents early will give them a chance to dry out. If not... well, maybe the next day will be.
One thing the campers have that we don't is a stationary platform to hang out on. There's a low swell entering the bay from whatever wind is blowing out in the strait and the boat is turned sideways to it by whatever breeze there is here, so we'll be doing a lot of rolling around tonight. I wonder if they're looking at us, as thankful that they're not here as we are that we're not there.
It stopped raining for a bit, so I went up on deck with my binoculars to have a look around. The clouds were hanging low over the hillsides and the air was saturated with moisture. The hikers were out of their tents, walking around on the sandy beach, some digging in their packs, some tending to food bags hanging in the trees around them. It must have been a relief for them to finally be able to get out and walk around.
Those of us who have done much backpacking know what it's like to be driven into the tent for long periods by rain: the difficulty of keeping wet sand out of the tent, the pervasive condensation on the inside of the rainfly, the difficulty of keeping anything dry, and the angst of a full bladder - dreading having to do something about it. Then the following morning, there is the horrid job of rolling everything up wet. But, if the next day is dry all is well, because setting up the tents early will give them a chance to dry out. If not... well, maybe the next day will be.
One thing the campers have that we don't is a stationary platform to hang out on. There's a low swell entering the bay from whatever wind is blowing out in the strait and the boat is turned sideways to it by whatever breeze there is here, so we'll be doing a lot of rolling around tonight. I wonder if they're looking at us, as thankful that they're not here as we are that we're not there.
Wednesday, June 14, 2017
Mulligan Stew - 6/14
We had an easy ride down into the western end of the Strait of Juan de Fuca this morning. The winds were light overnight, so for a change there was little swell under the chop. The farther into the strait we got the smoother it became. Now we’re in Port San Juan anchored for the night. A gale warning has been posted for the strait tonight, so we set our anchor well for the direction of the forecasted winds. Then Kevin went below and made so terrific mulligan stew out of the various left-overs that had been accumulating for the last couple of weeks. It’s raining out there now and everyone has curled up with a good book for the afternoon. Very Cozy.
Tuesday, June 13, 2017
Dodger and Thrasher - 6/13
Planning for the final few days is complete. There are separate current tables for east and west Juan de Fuca Strait. Current in the strait gets up over 3 knots during spring tides, but thankfully it’ll be half that this week. That’ll give us some latitude to go against the current if it makes more sense than leaving later after the chop has built up. Final timing will depend on the whether forecast. Our priorities are safety, comfort, and fuel in that order.
We’re in Dodger Channel tonight, a shallow anchorage, staged for a run down the coast tomorrow morning and into Port San Juan, just past the entrance to the Strait of Juan de Fuca. We’ll be able to look across the straight and see Neah Bay from there. We’ll be going along the West Coast Trail tomorrow, doing in one day what it took us a week to do on foot several years ago. Dodger Channel is between two small islands near the town of Bamfield where the hike ends and tomorrow night’s anchorage, Thrasher Cove, will be where the shuttle boat from Port Renfrew dropped us off to start the hike. It will be interesting to see if we can see any hikers along the coast tomorrow. The hike was spectacular so I’m looking forward to seeing it from the perspective of the water.
We were able to dinghy to shore at low tide this afternoon. We found an old First Nations cabin in the trees and the rocks were perfect for scrambling around on. The book tells us there is archeological evidence of a First Nations village that operated on this site for centuries. Oh to be able to step back in time for a quick look around.
We’re in Dodger Channel tonight, a shallow anchorage, staged for a run down the coast tomorrow morning and into Port San Juan, just past the entrance to the Strait of Juan de Fuca. We’ll be able to look across the straight and see Neah Bay from there. We’ll be going along the West Coast Trail tomorrow, doing in one day what it took us a week to do on foot several years ago. Dodger Channel is between two small islands near the town of Bamfield where the hike ends and tomorrow night’s anchorage, Thrasher Cove, will be where the shuttle boat from Port Renfrew dropped us off to start the hike. It will be interesting to see if we can see any hikers along the coast tomorrow. The hike was spectacular so I’m looking forward to seeing it from the perspective of the water.
We were able to dinghy to shore at low tide this afternoon. We found an old First Nations cabin in the trees and the rocks were perfect for scrambling around on. The book tells us there is archeological evidence of a First Nations village that operated on this site for centuries. Oh to be able to step back in time for a quick look around.
Full Charge - 6/12
My itinerary had us anchoring in Frank Bay today, but we decided that Ring of Rocks sounded more interesting. Rocks form a perimeter around the anchorage that dictates careful anchor placement, especially when the winds are blowing as they are today.
With the short days we’ve been having this week, there has been little engine time and so not much opportunity to keep the batteries charged. We could run the engine in neutral to charge them, but it’s better for engine longevity to run under load. To that end, we decided to visit both anchorages, starting with Frank Bay to have a look, and then on to Ring of Rocks to anchor.
It turns out to be fortunate that we were not intending to anchor in Frank Bay Nook because the Eagle’s Nook Lodge around the corner has a mooring buoy there that takes up what little space there is. The practice of placing an unused mooring buoy in the only available anchorage makes me wonder about etiquette in such cases, or even provincial law. Would they have had a right to object to us using it? Perhaps. I guess I could better see the justice of it where there is some harbor authority to approve private mooring buoy placements, but it is likely they placed it there without any such approval since the bay is fairly remote and they’re the only ones in there except for an aquafarm.
If we had tied to it, it is likely that they wouldn’t have noticed or cared. It’s even possible that they put it there for our use. Then again, if they needed to use it and we were already tied to it, things might have become unpleasant. It turns out to be an academic question because we just scooted in for a quick look around.
The day evolved from overcast to bright sunshine and blue skies while we were under way, While the wind has picked up, as we were told it would, the sun feels nice and a couple of us were inspired to take showers on the back deck. Clean hair feels awesome. And the batteries are charged!
With the short days we’ve been having this week, there has been little engine time and so not much opportunity to keep the batteries charged. We could run the engine in neutral to charge them, but it’s better for engine longevity to run under load. To that end, we decided to visit both anchorages, starting with Frank Bay to have a look, and then on to Ring of Rocks to anchor.
It turns out to be fortunate that we were not intending to anchor in Frank Bay Nook because the Eagle’s Nook Lodge around the corner has a mooring buoy there that takes up what little space there is. The practice of placing an unused mooring buoy in the only available anchorage makes me wonder about etiquette in such cases, or even provincial law. Would they have had a right to object to us using it? Perhaps. I guess I could better see the justice of it where there is some harbor authority to approve private mooring buoy placements, but it is likely they placed it there without any such approval since the bay is fairly remote and they’re the only ones in there except for an aquafarm.
If we had tied to it, it is likely that they wouldn’t have noticed or cared. It’s even possible that they put it there for our use. Then again, if they needed to use it and we were already tied to it, things might have become unpleasant. It turns out to be an academic question because we just scooted in for a quick look around.
The day evolved from overcast to bright sunshine and blue skies while we were under way, While the wind has picked up, as we were told it would, the sun feels nice and a couple of us were inspired to take showers on the back deck. Clean hair feels awesome. And the batteries are charged!
Monday, June 12, 2017
No One Home - 6/12
Beyond all expectations, we enjoyed a day of sailing today. It was glorious. The sun was out, the wind was a perfect 12 knots, and we had ample room out in the Imperial Eagle Channel without swell or much chop. We couldn’t have asked for a nicer afternoon. We started the day off with a chalk talk, going over the basics of raising and lowering the sails (so to speak - both sails furl), tacking and jibing. Then we did some dry run practicing: tacking and jibing with the sheets, but no sails. The crew was on their game as we headed out into the channel to practice. Before long they were tacking and jibing like seasoned veterans. The weather and conditions were perfect for it.
We’re in our anchorage now, a little cove off Nettle Island with a rangers dock and a dilapidated hut. Or maybe it’s just his storage shed that’s listing. Both are on floats, but the shed appears to have lost some flotation on one side. There’s even a little floating outhouse. No one is home though. Just us, reading our books in the sun after a yummy meal of leftovers. We’re days from catching up with Kevin’s over-estimation of what we could eat when he made Swedish meatballs a couple nights ago. Eight lbs of meat?! I don’t know what he was thinking, but they're nice to have on hand for lunches.
Sunday, June 11, 2017
Relaxed, Sort of - 6/11
We’re finding the Broken Group in Barkley Sound to be a lovely archipelago. Stunning anchorages are scattered among small islands with relatively few boats around in early season to share them with. Stunted, wind swept trees cover the islands that are large enough to sustain them. Smaller islands and clusters of rocks are under constant assault from the ocean surf. Meandering through this landscape with the benefit of electronic charts and global positioning feels both safe and scary. It would have been a lot more challenging to navigate these waters with nothing but paper charts and a compass - all the more so before the area was charted.
Notwithstanding the breathtaking beauty of this place, it would be hard for me to spend more than a few days here. I say that because it is difficult for me to sit still for much longer than that. It takes less than an hour to get from one anchorage to the next. Yesterday we had breakfast, did our dishes, and were underway relatively early. We motored through still water without a breath of wind, made our way into Joe's Cove and were anchored by ten o’clock. Not a bad day’s work. And then we sat. We read, we listened to audio books, we watched the birds, the kayakers and the tide come and go. In the afternoon, the wind picked up and we had lunch. It was very relaxing. And a little boring. The rest of the crew seems to be happy as clams to unwind and let the day spill past them without a care in the world. It leaves me feeling a little… antsy. I’d rather be doing something. Anything.
Sometime in the late afternoon a 50’ sailboat scooted through the narrow pass that we had come through. The difference was that while we had motored in, and would have motored in even if the wind had been blowing, these guys were under sail. They rounded the cove under sail, and smartly dropped anchor under sail. It was very well done. I began to wonder what it would take for us to do that. It would take a lot more practice than we've been getting. They have a crew of six and each person is certainly well versed in each station, so that as the helmsman adjusts the steering, each person commensurately adjusts the sails without being told what to do. With a crew that is unfamiliar with the boat and with sailing in general, a lot of explanation is necessary. Unfamiliar terminology is met with blank looks and more explanation. It takes a lot of training and practice to get beyond all the confusion about what to do and when to do it without detailed explanations that there might not be time for in this neighborhood.
There’s a part of me that thinks: we should be spending all this extra time practicing our sailing technique. But… it’s calm right now. When it’s not, we’d need to be doing it out in the open, away from the rocks, with some room to move and make mistakes. Out in the open there’s chop on a 5-10’ ocean swell, which would make the sailing more work than fun and not a very good environment for learning. But more than that, the crew appears to be quite content with the relaxing. And so am I, but there is another side of me that thinks about what fun it would be to sail on the other boat for a couple of hours.
The winds are forecasted to come from the northwest finally, so when we continue our way down the coast on Wednesday, maybe we’ll be able to make some real progress under sail. Stranger things have happened.
Notwithstanding the breathtaking beauty of this place, it would be hard for me to spend more than a few days here. I say that because it is difficult for me to sit still for much longer than that. It takes less than an hour to get from one anchorage to the next. Yesterday we had breakfast, did our dishes, and were underway relatively early. We motored through still water without a breath of wind, made our way into Joe's Cove and were anchored by ten o’clock. Not a bad day’s work. And then we sat. We read, we listened to audio books, we watched the birds, the kayakers and the tide come and go. In the afternoon, the wind picked up and we had lunch. It was very relaxing. And a little boring. The rest of the crew seems to be happy as clams to unwind and let the day spill past them without a care in the world. It leaves me feeling a little… antsy. I’d rather be doing something. Anything.
Sometime in the late afternoon a 50’ sailboat scooted through the narrow pass that we had come through. The difference was that while we had motored in, and would have motored in even if the wind had been blowing, these guys were under sail. They rounded the cove under sail, and smartly dropped anchor under sail. It was very well done. I began to wonder what it would take for us to do that. It would take a lot more practice than we've been getting. They have a crew of six and each person is certainly well versed in each station, so that as the helmsman adjusts the steering, each person commensurately adjusts the sails without being told what to do. With a crew that is unfamiliar with the boat and with sailing in general, a lot of explanation is necessary. Unfamiliar terminology is met with blank looks and more explanation. It takes a lot of training and practice to get beyond all the confusion about what to do and when to do it without detailed explanations that there might not be time for in this neighborhood.
There’s a part of me that thinks: we should be spending all this extra time practicing our sailing technique. But… it’s calm right now. When it’s not, we’d need to be doing it out in the open, away from the rocks, with some room to move and make mistakes. Out in the open there’s chop on a 5-10’ ocean swell, which would make the sailing more work than fun and not a very good environment for learning. But more than that, the crew appears to be quite content with the relaxing. And so am I, but there is another side of me that thinks about what fun it would be to sail on the other boat for a couple of hours.
The winds are forecasted to come from the northwest finally, so when we continue our way down the coast on Wednesday, maybe we’ll be able to make some real progress under sail. Stranger things have happened.
Saturday, June 10, 2017
No Hurry - 6/10
Day two in the Broken Group. It was nice not to have to go far; nicer still to have blue skies and calm for our one hour passage from Effingham Bay to Joe’s Cove. We arrived to find both coves empty of boats, but yesterday several others joined us by early evening. I’m guessing the same will happen here. It is early yet.
The wind is supposed to pick up this afternoon, so it was nice to make our move while the gettin’ was good.
Vi is on bear watch, glassing every so often while she reads her book. You can’t see ‘em if you don’t look is her motto.
A gaggle of kayakers came through shortly after we arrived, all chatty and in no hurry. They didn’t look kitted out for overnight, so they must be on a one day paddle out of Bamfield or Ucluelet. Ucluelet is at the north end of Barkley Sound. We didn’t stop on our way south from Tofino, but I have been to Bamfield when several friends and I hiked the West Coast Trail from Port Renfrew. Our paper chart of this area actually has the trail marked. It was originally built to give shipwrecked sailors a path back to civilization. I wonder how many of them it has actually saved.
The wind is supposed to pick up this afternoon, so it was nice to make our move while the gettin’ was good.
Vi is on bear watch, glassing every so often while she reads her book. You can’t see ‘em if you don’t look is her motto.
A gaggle of kayakers came through shortly after we arrived, all chatty and in no hurry. They didn’t look kitted out for overnight, so they must be on a one day paddle out of Bamfield or Ucluelet. Ucluelet is at the north end of Barkley Sound. We didn’t stop on our way south from Tofino, but I have been to Bamfield when several friends and I hiked the West Coast Trail from Port Renfrew. Our paper chart of this area actually has the trail marked. It was originally built to give shipwrecked sailors a path back to civilization. I wonder how many of them it has actually saved.
Friday, June 9, 2017
The Artful Dodger - 6/9
It was a bit of slog getting down to Barkley Sound from Tofino today, but we arrived without incident. The winds and seas were on the mild side compared to other times we’ve made longish days out into the ocean swell. One arbiter of the violence of wave action on the boat is the over-temperature alarm at the wheel. When the seas are big, it makes the alarm chirp at us. This was somewhat worrisome at first as I wondered if it portended an engine temperature problem. Thankfully the temperature gage shows normal; I’m convinced the problem is with a weak relay contact being force to close when the boat lurches, generating an erroneous error.
Today we heard no such chirping, so the seas weren’t too bad and the winds never exceeded 18 knots. They were big enough to give Kevin a touch of sea sickness, but he rallied when we hit the anchorage in calmer waters. There was a lot of rain throughout the day. In foul weather, we usually have just one person at a time out in the elements steering the boat while the rest stay huddled under the dodger.
That dodger is awesome. It’s the perfect compromise between visibility and protection. I’ve been in boats that encase you in a protective bubble and others that give you an ear full of sea water with every other wave; this dodger does neither. It makes keeping an eye out for logs and crab pots easy while keeping up to four people dry in the cockpit. The helmsman... not so much.
The tide was a little lower on our way out of Tofino than it was on the way in - enough so that we bumped the bottom on our way out. I get the sense the depth is greater at the dock than it is slightly away from the dock. Whatever the case, we made our exit as quietly as possible to prevent waking the neighbors as we untied from them. We did a little skid through the mud and were on our way.
We’re in Effingham Bay tonight, part of the Broken Group in Barkley Sound. It’s so lovely. We’ll be cove hopping here for the next several days, before making our break for the Strait of Juan de Fuca.
Thursday, June 8, 2017
Crusty Old Coot - 6/8
It’s been a grim day. I watched the warm front pass over head on my barometer. It looks like a 24 hour sawtooth: the pressure a steady progression downward followed by a rapid increase over the last several hours. It’s been pouring rain all morning.
The crew are scattered in Tofino. Kevin is mooching off coffee house wifi, taking care of business on the home front. Vi is visiting galleries. It was hard to go anywhere without getting soaked. I went to find myself a chai tea latte and had to lean into buffeting headwinds and driving rain to get there.
Hoping to do a little mooching of my own and not seeing many people out, I anticipated finding the coffee house deserted, but of course that’s where everyone was hunkered. Crowds of early season tourists were pretending to nurse a cup of coffee for several hours rather than go back out into it. I bought my drink and shoehorned myself onto an empty barstool. Considering the crowd and the number of laptops, the wifi was surprisingly responsive. The tea was good too, if expensive.
Tofino is a nice little town with a young population. It caters equally to commercial fishing, recreational tourism and artistic tourism. There are a lot of adventure tours, a lot of galleries, and a shoddy little marina. It is certainly not a destination for recreational boating. That’s not surprising I guess; we’re a long way from anywhere.
It was stressful getting in here yesterday. We knew it was going to be tough. The book said as much and talked about the difficulty of handling the traffic and currents, the paucity of space, the shallow depths. If all that wasn’t enough the wind was supposed to start blowing in the afternoon. Winding our way through a double set of narrows studded with submerged rocks on the approach sounded easy by comparison. So we started off at 5am yesterday morning, getting through the narrows and arriving to refuel and seek moorage shortly after low tide at 7:30am. Low tide is better than strong current or strong winds I say. I’d also hoped that an early arrival would offer ample moorage, but that didn’t turn out to be the case.
Most of the public dock is reserved for commercial boats. There is only one finger for recreational boaters, room for maybe a dozen boats, and there are live-aboards taking up most of that space. Half of what remains is too shallow to be useful for a boat with more than a six foot draft. When I talked to the harbormaster on the way in, he told me to take anything on E dock that I was comfortable with. Ha! approaching the dock, still thirty feet away, it was 7.5 feet deep and getting shallower. WTF? Rather than continue further, we tied up to a sailboat that was already there at the end of the dock. When the owner came out to see what was going on I told him the harbormaster told us to raft up to him - a bit of a stretch, unless you interpret “wherever you’re comfortable” to include rafting. Thankfully he was friendly and helpful. Our power cord is strung across his cockpit; as was the hose while we were filling the tanks. It took us four hoses (two from the marina, one borrowed from another boat, and one that is ours) to reach the water tank from the nozzle. This west coast is a crusty old coot in so many ways.
Wednesday, June 7, 2017
Back on the Grid - 6/7
We’re in Tofino a day early. Getting to town and leaving the following morning can be a bit of a rush with all there is to do. It’s been a day of chores even so and we haven’t started reprovisioning yet. Kevin and Vi got all the laundry done. Two weeks laundry for three people and a boat makes for quite a pile and takes a pocket full of loonies.
I had to make a run to the Marine Supply store to buy a power adapter. My shore power cable isn’t long enough for this marina. An extension is over $200 (in this town) so I had the bright idea of adding my tool power cord with adapters at each end. I’ve never given it much thought, but my shore power cable must be 240v, because it has four wires where the tool cord has only three. Whatever the case, we can charge our electronics with this setup, but not the boat. That’s OK, the boat is already pretty well charged.
The down side of spending another night tied to the dock (actually tied to a boat tied to a dock) is the constant stream of commercial boats coming and going. They’re passing by about fifty away from us with nothing to dampen their wake. We’re getting tossed and our fenders are taking a beating. I guess we’ll survive. At least we’re not having to dinghy back and forth into town.
I can’t imagine living aboard in this marina. But people do. The folks we're tied up to have been here for a couple weeks. That’d be about thirteen days too long for me. A beautiful wooden boat on our dock with a couple of long legged deck ornaments doing some sun bathing this afternoon has been here for three years. I wonder why.
Two sea otters climbed onto the dock next to the boat this afternoon. I’ve never seen that before. They must be used to handouts. I had to walk around them and I was a little nervous about it, wildlife being as unpredictable as it is. We stared each other down, each taking stock of the other, wondering who would blink first. Thankfully I have better mobility on a dock than a sea otter does, so they did and slipped back into the water. I could have taken them.
Thomas will be joining us tomorrow. Quijote Crew goes to four!
Clean Again - 6/5
High pressure over Vancouver Island has been giving us glorious sunshine yesterday and today. We celebrated by taking showers on the back deck this morning after arriving at the anchorage early.
It’s a loose term: shower. There’s a deck fitting that’s connected to the boat’s pressurized fresh water system, supplying hot water though a shower hose. If water was unlimited, it might be considered a “real” shower, but as things are, with the water-maker down, we have to be careful about how much water we use. I use the shower hose to wet my hair in short bursts over a bucket, then suds up the hair and use the sudsy water caught in the bucket to scrub my bod. The last step is to try to rinse using as little water as possible. We probably end up using a half gallon or so each - a minor amount of water in the scheme of things. It feels delicious to be clean again. That should hold us until we’re in Tofino three days from now.
Monday, June 5, 2017
Only Two Weeks Left - 6/4
As is typical, the afternoons in our anchorages have been gusty lately, while mornings are calm. The wind generator and solar panel were keeping up with the electrical demand of our refrigeration all afternoon yesterday; everything else was turned off. Today the wind has been blowing less consistently: blowing like a banshee one moment and dead calm the next. Not that I know how a banshee blows. Or even what a banshee is. My life is a constant stream of things I think of to look up whenever I next see Internet service. But I’ll forget by then.
Today is Sunday, which means that we are scheduled to arrive in Quijote’s home port of Lake Union two weeks from today. I’m hoping the Straight of Juan de Fuca settles down some time between now and when we’ll be there. They’re predicting gale force winds in the Strait for the next few days. The nice thing about scheduling short hops between anchorages is that we can time our run for it: giddy-up while the getting is good; hunker down while it’s not. With an eye on our marina reservation, I’d rather not arrive early or late to Victoria, but stuff happens. Safety First. In the mean time, we’ll enjoy the protection of the islands in the Tofino area for the next several days, then make a one day run from Tofino to the Broken Group, where we’ll tootle around for another few days. We’ve heard a lot about that area and I’m looking forward to it.
Today is Sunday, which means that we are scheduled to arrive in Quijote’s home port of Lake Union two weeks from today. I’m hoping the Straight of Juan de Fuca settles down some time between now and when we’ll be there. They’re predicting gale force winds in the Strait for the next few days. The nice thing about scheduling short hops between anchorages is that we can time our run for it: giddy-up while the getting is good; hunker down while it’s not. With an eye on our marina reservation, I’d rather not arrive early or late to Victoria, but stuff happens. Safety First. In the mean time, we’ll enjoy the protection of the islands in the Tofino area for the next several days, then make a one day run from Tofino to the Broken Group, where we’ll tootle around for another few days. We’ve heard a lot about that area and I’m looking forward to it.
Attacked by Indians! - 6/3
OK, maybe “attacked” is over dramatizing things a wee bit. We were contacted. Floating peacefully at anchor in Baccante Bay, minding our own business, a yellow boat approached us. It contained First Nation representatives, tribal custodians if you will. They wanted to know our business. So we had a little discussion about our trip, where we were going, how long we were staying. They were very friendly, just keeping an eye on things. They said their ancestors fished for salmon in this bay.
We’ll be in protected waters mostly until we arrive in Tofino on Thursday. It was nice to spend the morning gliding through glassy water for a change. The sun was even out.
We’ll be in protected waters mostly until we arrive in Tofino on Thursday. It was nice to spend the morning gliding through glassy water for a change. The sun was even out.
A First - 6/2
The hot springs were awesome! They were easily as hot as I keep my hot tubs - roughly 104F. The hot water runs over a waterfall and into a series of pools. In the third pool the hot water mixes with surges of sea water at high tide, so the temperature ebbs and flows around you, hot one moment and deliciously cool the next. We had the springs to ourselves for an hour or so before a gaggle of old ladies showed up from the fishing lodge across the bay. We made a hasty retreat and left them to it.
It was such a treat to get clean. The weather has been too crappy to take a shower on the stern for almost a week. Usually we like to rinse off and wash our hair every few days, but it hasn’t been happening.
It was really nice to get a hike in too: 2.5 miles round trip. My legs needed it.
We decided not to spend a second night at Hot Springs Cove tonight. As nice as the springs and the cellular service was, it was more appealing to head to the next anchorage for the night, away from float planes, water taxis, fishing boats and people. So we're at Young Cove, a tiny placid little thing with bears on the shoreline. Vi spotted one, of course, then told me it was on the left side of the boat. So I searched and searched with the binoculars and finally found a mama bear and her cub foraging in the grass. When Vi admitted she meant the right side of the boat, I claimed credit for finally spotting two bears before Vi did - a first!
It was such a treat to get clean. The weather has been too crappy to take a shower on the stern for almost a week. Usually we like to rinse off and wash our hair every few days, but it hasn’t been happening.
It was really nice to get a hike in too: 2.5 miles round trip. My legs needed it.
We decided not to spend a second night at Hot Springs Cove tonight. As nice as the springs and the cellular service was, it was more appealing to head to the next anchorage for the night, away from float planes, water taxis, fishing boats and people. So we're at Young Cove, a tiny placid little thing with bears on the shoreline. Vi spotted one, of course, then told me it was on the left side of the boat. So I searched and searched with the binoculars and finally found a mama bear and her cub foraging in the grass. When Vi admitted she meant the right side of the boat, I claimed credit for finally spotting two bears before Vi did - a first!
Thursday, June 1, 2017
Scrub-a-dub-dub - 6/1/2017
The weather tomorrow is supposed to turn ugly. We’d planned to stop at Bligh Cove today, possibly for two nights to sit out the coming rain and wind. But our early start today convinced us to push on and hole up in Hot Springs Cove for an extra day instead. Hot Springs Cove is just what it sounds: a body scrubbery. I can’t wait. There’s another, unanticipated reward for doubling our mileage today: we found cell (and with it internet) reception. So not only do we get to lounge in the hot springs, but we get to check our emails and upload a week's worth of blog posts. I posted them in chronological order and put the date in the subject line in case anyone is keeping track.
What we’ve read about the hot springs tells us there’s a boardwalk, a little over a mile long, leading to the point were geothermally heated water cascades through several pools whose temperature is moderated by tidal water. After the water taxis and floatplanes have gone for the day, returning to Tofino, the springs are empty to all but the occasional boater anchored in the harbor. During the summer months I’m sure it gets crowded in here, but for now, it’s just us and a crab boat. I’m guessing they won’t be bothering with the springs. Now if it would just stop raining...
A Day in Our Pocket - 5/31
It was a little rough out there today. The winds were nearing thirty knots against us in driving rain with 5-10 foot seas. We plodded through it for six hours or so. I had to remind myself why we’re doing this in May. I have to say, the trip up the Inside Passage to Glacier Bay, AK last year was a lot more pacific than this trip is (on the Pacific). Every other day feels like we’re rounding Cape Caution. We have an extra day in the bank to spend when the weather forecast tells us it’s probably not smart to go out. We might have spent it today had we heard the forecast earlier than we did.
We had no VHF reception in Dixie Cove last night, so no knowledge of the weather, except the extended forecast from several days ago. When we were finally under way and could listen to the forecast tell us to expect 30-40kt winds, we were already out in it experiencing upper twenties. It’s just as well we didn’t know. We have two scheduled dates to make along the way: a potential crew pick up in Tofino and a marina reservation in Victoria, so it’s nice to save that extra day in our pocket.
Tomorrow should be more of the same, perhaps a little smoother and a little calmer. Once again, we won’t know until we’re out in it.
We had no VHF reception in Dixie Cove last night, so no knowledge of the weather, except the extended forecast from several days ago. When we were finally under way and could listen to the forecast tell us to expect 30-40kt winds, we were already out in it experiencing upper twenties. It’s just as well we didn’t know. We have two scheduled dates to make along the way: a potential crew pick up in Tofino and a marina reservation in Victoria, so it’s nice to save that extra day in our pocket.
Tomorrow should be more of the same, perhaps a little smoother and a little calmer. Once again, we won’t know until we’re out in it.
Word on the Street - 5/30
It’s almost June, but it feels more like February today . It’s in the fifties with low overcast and the wind is somehow finding it’s way into this snug little cove. It's a good day for hot soup and a good book. Tomorrow we’ll have miles to make, but today it’s enough to stay warm.
We stopped at a small community called Walters Cove yesterday and filled our water tanks. We had our expectations up for hot showers and fresh produce, but once again, they aren’t in full swing yet. The store is open three days a week in the afternoon. We didn’t feel like waiting around several hours for it to open. The showers were available, but expensive. We could have rented a hotel room for the same price as three showers. So we filled our tanks and moved on. The word on the street is that it’ll be another month before these small towns shake off their winter lethargy and come to life again.
We stopped at a small community called Walters Cove yesterday and filled our water tanks. We had our expectations up for hot showers and fresh produce, but once again, they aren’t in full swing yet. The store is open three days a week in the afternoon. We didn’t feel like waiting around several hours for it to open. The showers were available, but expensive. We could have rented a hotel room for the same price as three showers. So we filled our tanks and moved on. The word on the street is that it’ll be another month before these small towns shake off their winter lethargy and come to life again.
A Sailing Day - 5/29
We’ve had very little sailing time in the last couple of weeks. The winds have been light, or on the nose, or fluky, or the seas have been too rough. The northwest coast in May is not a route that lends itself very well to making miles under sail; at least it hasn’t for us so far. I had thought it would be easier, given that the prevailing winds are blowing from the northwest and we’re heading southeast, but what we’ve seen has been mostly southwest. It’s against us, meaning we’d have to be endlessly tacking into it, and the westerly component means that if we run into trouble, the wind can drive us onto the rocks pretty quickly. With a crew that’s not very familiar with the boat, it feels risky to be running around on deck wrestling with the sails. So we’ve motored through the headwinds, light winds and rough seas, patiently waiting for easier conditions.
Today we were close to our intended anchorage in the Kashutl Inlet, crossing a large bay with no swell or chop and the sun was out, so we unfurled the sails and had some fun before heading in to anchor. It was a beautiful day for it.
Today we were close to our intended anchorage in the Kashutl Inlet, crossing a large bay with no swell or chop and the sun was out, so we unfurled the sails and had some fun before heading in to anchor. It was a beautiful day for it.
A day of Treats - 5/28
It was a short day today and we got a late start waiting for the fog to lift. Kevin whipped up a batch of French toast using the bread that Vi cooked last night. Both were awesome.
Before leaving I noticed that the depth meter was showing 5.0 feet, curious considering that the chart indicated a least depth of around twelve and that the boat draws about 6.3 feet. I guess the depth meter has a little offset. I was pretty sure that I set it up to indicate depth from the waterline and not depth under the keel. The latter is handy when you have several boats and don’t want to have to remember how deep the keel is on each boat. This is the only boat I own though, so I like it to show me depth of the water rather than depth under the keel. The charts show minimum depth, so it’s nice to have consistent numbers. Apparently it is doing neither very accurately at shallow depths. I have a hand held depth transponder used for reconnaissance in the dingy, but I didn’t think to use it to obtain a second opinion. Next time we’re in shallow water I’ll do that.
Our route today took us inside reefs, rocks and small islands. They afforded us some protection from the swell and with a light wind offering little chop, we enjoyed a smooth ride that only lasted a couple hours. The clouds were hanging low when we first arrived, but after taking a spin to shore in the dinghy, playing some Frisbee, and hiking a round for a while, the marine layer burned off and we were treated to sunshine. Vi also treated us to fried cakes made of potatoes and peas. A day of treats!
Before leaving I noticed that the depth meter was showing 5.0 feet, curious considering that the chart indicated a least depth of around twelve and that the boat draws about 6.3 feet. I guess the depth meter has a little offset. I was pretty sure that I set it up to indicate depth from the waterline and not depth under the keel. The latter is handy when you have several boats and don’t want to have to remember how deep the keel is on each boat. This is the only boat I own though, so I like it to show me depth of the water rather than depth under the keel. The charts show minimum depth, so it’s nice to have consistent numbers. Apparently it is doing neither very accurately at shallow depths. I have a hand held depth transponder used for reconnaissance in the dingy, but I didn’t think to use it to obtain a second opinion. Next time we’re in shallow water I’ll do that.
Our route today took us inside reefs, rocks and small islands. They afforded us some protection from the swell and with a light wind offering little chop, we enjoyed a smooth ride that only lasted a couple hours. The clouds were hanging low when we first arrived, but after taking a spin to shore in the dinghy, playing some Frisbee, and hiking a round for a while, the marine layer burned off and we were treated to sunshine. Vi also treated us to fried cakes made of potatoes and peas. A day of treats!
Around Cape Cook - 5/27
They said it could turn tropical after we rounded the Brooks Peninsula and they weren’t lying. There are no palm trees or bikini babes, but it’s warm enough that I donned shorts and took a plunge off the transom. I couldn’t talk the other two into it though. bwaaaak, bwak-bwak! It was refreshing, but cold enough to make me want to get out pronto - quite a bit cooler than Desolation Sound.
For the last several days, the forecasters have been predicting light winds and calmer seas for today, so we timed our push around Cape Cook for it. It worked out nicely. We’re on the south side now, tucked into Columbia Cove under spectacular blue skies and sunshine.
We stowed the dinghy on deck for the last several days to get us around the rougher sections, then re-inflated it when we got here. Kevin helped me mount the outboard and then Vi and I headed out to explore this lovely bay while Kevin stayed on board to enjoy some time to himself.
On our dinghy voyage, Vi and I conquered a small island in the middle of the bay and circumnavigated it on foot. The tide was high so it didn’t take very long. The bay also has a lot of floating log debris and some healthy kelp beds.
We passed another sailboat today! They were headed the other way and the first we’ve seen since passing a boat on the way to Bull Harbour more than a week ago.
We finished the last of the boat-made bread today, so Vi whipped up another loaf using the sourdough starter that Lavanya gave us. Three cheers for Vi and Lavanya! Tomorrow we have a short day to get to the West Nook of the Brunsby Islands.
For the last several days, the forecasters have been predicting light winds and calmer seas for today, so we timed our push around Cape Cook for it. It worked out nicely. We’re on the south side now, tucked into Columbia Cove under spectacular blue skies and sunshine.
We stowed the dinghy on deck for the last several days to get us around the rougher sections, then re-inflated it when we got here. Kevin helped me mount the outboard and then Vi and I headed out to explore this lovely bay while Kevin stayed on board to enjoy some time to himself.
On our dinghy voyage, Vi and I conquered a small island in the middle of the bay and circumnavigated it on foot. The tide was high so it didn’t take very long. The bay also has a lot of floating log debris and some healthy kelp beds.
We passed another sailboat today! They were headed the other way and the first we’ve seen since passing a boat on the way to Bull Harbour more than a week ago.
We finished the last of the boat-made bread today, so Vi whipped up another loaf using the sourdough starter that Lavanya gave us. Three cheers for Vi and Lavanya! Tomorrow we have a short day to get to the West Nook of the Brunsby Islands.
Awesome Cranberry Muffins - 5/26
It was a short mileage day today, ten miles or so to get out of the Klaskino Inlet and into the Klaskish Basin via a steep, narrow channel with plenty of depth. The book talks about anchoring between mooring buoys if they’re all taken. We see no buoys and no boats, just a large bay with good shelter from the winds out on the ocean and bald eagles chirping from the tree tops. It’s a very pristine anchorage. They all are out here.
Arriving early gave me some time to take a shot at a few maintenance items on my list. Kevin helped me look into a solution to a problem with the radar. It thinks it’s working, but nothing is displayed on the plotter. Since it was working the week before we left, I was hoping for an easy fix. Kevin gave me a belay while I climbed up the mast and pulled the cover of the radar unit. Then he turned it on briefly so I could see if it was rotating properly. I hid behind the mast to keep from being irradiated by it. It was rotating ok, but there is no way to tell if it’s not transmitting or not receiving. I’ll have to look into having it tested when I get back. Thank goodness we have AIS. It’ll allow us to avoid the worst (big and fast) of the commercial traffic if the fog rolls in. And it will allow them to see us.
While Kevin and I were making no progress with the radar, Vi made cranberry muffins. They are awesome! At least one of us got something done.
OK, I did top off the battery levels. Quijote has a starting battery and a 400amp hour house battery and they all need a little water now and then. We typically use around 20 amp-hours a day and recharge while motoring, which has been most of the time on this trip.
Tomorrow we go around the Brooks Peninsula.
Arriving early gave me some time to take a shot at a few maintenance items on my list. Kevin helped me look into a solution to a problem with the radar. It thinks it’s working, but nothing is displayed on the plotter. Since it was working the week before we left, I was hoping for an easy fix. Kevin gave me a belay while I climbed up the mast and pulled the cover of the radar unit. Then he turned it on briefly so I could see if it was rotating properly. I hid behind the mast to keep from being irradiated by it. It was rotating ok, but there is no way to tell if it’s not transmitting or not receiving. I’ll have to look into having it tested when I get back. Thank goodness we have AIS. It’ll allow us to avoid the worst (big and fast) of the commercial traffic if the fog rolls in. And it will allow them to see us.
While Kevin and I were making no progress with the radar, Vi made cranberry muffins. They are awesome! At least one of us got something done.
OK, I did top off the battery levels. Quijote has a starting battery and a 400amp hour house battery and they all need a little water now and then. We typically use around 20 amp-hours a day and recharge while motoring, which has been most of the time on this trip.
Tomorrow we go around the Brooks Peninsula.
Hot Showers, Big Seas and a Little Company - 5/25
After slurping down cream of wheat with yogurt and berries for breakfast, we headed back to Winter Harbour to fill our water tanks. I discovered yesterday that the high pressure cylinder on the water maker has sprung a leak, so rather than desalinating, it just fills the bilge with water. Then, because it flushes with fresh water when it’s done, the water make has become a water user. Dang. A fix will have to wait until I get back home and can buy parts. In the mean time, we have two weeks before we arrive in Tofino, so it was semi-essential that we stop for water in Winter Harbor. The tanks hold 110 gallons, plenty for the two weeks to Tofino. And… since we’ll already be there, we pooled our resources and came up with enough loonies to take showers. Yay! (Three cheers to Kevin for finding eight of the nine loonies needed for three showers.)
The weather cleared nicely in the afternoon; the sun was out anyway. It was after 2pm by the time we we’d made our way to Winter Harbour and were done with the place. A motor-boater at the fuel dock said it was “pretty rough out there.” They’d gone out in the ocean to do some fishing and were turned back by big seas and high winds. We only had twenty miles or so to get to the night’s anchorage, so we decided to give it a shot none the less.
I began to wander if it was a mistake almost immediately, when we were hit by some big waves on the stern quarter, picking us up and dropping us ten feet or so pretty quickly. Our direction with respect to the swell made the going a little difficult, but the swell was more consistent than when we were last out there, even if it was bigger, and the chop wasn’t quite as bad, even though the wind was blowing pretty well in the mid to upper twenties. So we kept going, got into something like a rhythm and didn’t have any trouble. Kevin ended up taking the helm for most of it. I think he was having a good time with it. I made a concerted effort to hydrate while we were at the dock with an unlimited water supply, so I had to go down into the head to pee several times. It was kind of like trying to pee in a clothes dryer.
Vi is now whipping up something for dinner from North Africa while Kevin and I kick back and enjoy a tranquil cove in fading sunlight. There’s a fishing boat anchored with us tonight. It’s nice to finally have a little company.
The weather cleared nicely in the afternoon; the sun was out anyway. It was after 2pm by the time we we’d made our way to Winter Harbour and were done with the place. A motor-boater at the fuel dock said it was “pretty rough out there.” They’d gone out in the ocean to do some fishing and were turned back by big seas and high winds. We only had twenty miles or so to get to the night’s anchorage, so we decided to give it a shot none the less.
I began to wander if it was a mistake almost immediately, when we were hit by some big waves on the stern quarter, picking us up and dropping us ten feet or so pretty quickly. Our direction with respect to the swell made the going a little difficult, but the swell was more consistent than when we were last out there, even if it was bigger, and the chop wasn’t quite as bad, even though the wind was blowing pretty well in the mid to upper twenties. So we kept going, got into something like a rhythm and didn’t have any trouble. Kevin ended up taking the helm for most of it. I think he was having a good time with it. I made a concerted effort to hydrate while we were at the dock with an unlimited water supply, so I had to go down into the head to pee several times. It was kind of like trying to pee in a clothes dryer.
Vi is now whipping up something for dinner from North Africa while Kevin and I kick back and enjoy a tranquil cove in fading sunlight. There’s a fishing boat anchored with us tonight. It’s nice to finally have a little company.
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