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.
Thursday, June 15, 2017
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.
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