Day: 13 August 2018

I met a couple of guys who had boats next to us in French Cove, one was from Nanaimo and suggested we try to get a space at the Yacht club there, so I phoned and found out that we could stay there as we were members of another yacht club (RYA & CA), but because we didn’t have a reciprocal agreement we would have to pay $30 a night, which was pretty good, and only a little more expensive than a mooring buoy.

So we untied and headed out of the government harbour to make the short 4 hour passage to Nanaimo. as we turned the dog leg at the exit I shouted to Kathy to get the revs right up, I could see the big waves crashing into the marina entrance and our gentle motoring wasn’t going to get through them. A few minutes later it was like being back in the ocean, 15 knot headwinds with big waves and the bowsprit getting soaked by the waves. I knew the forecast was for strong winds, but this was more than expected and from the wrong direction. We motored south for a while but the wind was building as were the waves and as soon as our speed through water dropped to 3 knots I put up the mainsail with a double reef and 75% staysail and we started to tack our way towards our destination. Now I dropped the revs on the engine right back and we sailed close hauled for the next 5 hours until we reached Nanaimo.The sky turned black and it started to rain, but just before we arrived the weather moved on, the wind dropped, the sea calmed and into Nanaimo we motored to look for our berth. by the time we tied up the sun was out and I was pleased to be there, but had quite enjoyed the sail.

You can see our planned route in blue, our actual track is in red, not a bad angle on the wind really. There is a dotted/dashed trapezoid shaped box on the chart known as “Area Golf Whisky” This is a military  exclusion zone, you can see I tacked over the western end, then across the middle. I could see the Patrol ships on the AIS but they didn’t bother me. I had read somewhere that they only use it on weekdays. It’s used for testing torpedoes, apparently they launch them at one end of the zone towards the other. All along the seabed of the zone they have sensors to record the progress of the torpedos, data is fed back to the base on Ballena island, which we tacked around.

Arriving into the marina down the narrow newcastle strait we had to watch out for seaplanes and ferries that use the area a lot. The seaplanes are very common around here.

The next day (Today Sunday) we took a short ferry ride over to newcastle island, and walked along the nature trails. No sooner had we started the walk than we saw a couple of lovely racoons staring at us.

Next we saw a deer just off the track, which was a releif to me, as I figured the cougar would much prefer deer to human.

The rest of the island was trees and beach, No real sign of it’s industrial past as a big coal mine. 

It is amazing the driftwood you get here on the beach! In the morning we head south, we need to leave about 09:30 to reach Dodd Narrows with plenty of time before slack water.

Paul Collister

 

Before reporting the delights of this lovely part of Canada, here are a couple of pictures I didn’t get a chance to put on the blog during the passage – my veggie pasties and one of the better loaves of bread I baked. There was little else to photograph, with the outside being a uniform grey or off-white for most of the weeks.

After five weeks at sea, we had the best of all welcomes as we drew closer to land. It was exciting enough to see such things as trees (and there are lots of those here) and hills and buildings emerging through the fog, but when Paul described seeing ‘bear-like’ creatures lying on their backs with ‘scrunched up old man’ faces, as he put it, I knew they would be sea otters. There were lots of them, and they could be seen clearly through the binoculars in distinct little groups –diving and surfacing with their little front paws drawn together on their chests. It seems we were privileged because we haven’t seen a single one since then. Closer in, I spotted spurts of water rising some distance away near the coastline on the starboard side, like bursts of steam. Paul said it would be a whale, and sure enough, a huge black and white hulk broke the surface, then disappeared under the water, its distinct fanned tail showing for a few seconds before repeating the process. It was fascinating, especially after so long at sea without seeing any sign of life apart from birds. I wasn’t quick enough to photograph it but thankfully Paul managed to film it before it disappeared.

We spent a fabulous week at Fisherman’s Wharf in Port Hardy, named as I’d guessed, after Nelson’s Vice Admiral on The Victory, Thomas Masterman Hardy. The marina was full but this turned out to be a bonus because the pontoons at the wharf had a great community atmosphere. The place couldn’t be described as streamlined and neat but its chaotic, higgledy piggledy layout served to make it informal and welcoming. Lots of people stopped to chat. Our courtesy flag, the only one flying, indicated our visitor status and we had the story of our passage off pat after several times of repeating it to curious passers-by. People were always impressed and had lots of questions about the trip from Japan and our future plans. Karl, a solo sailor from Latvia who befriended us, expressed alarm on learning our intention to traverse the Inside Passage down to Seattle. He told us he would be far too nervous to do it. I wondered why but Paul said he was just being over cautious. It seems all that is needed is to get the timings right for when you enter each strait, passage and river along the route. I could understand Karl’s anxiety once Paul explained about the intricacies involved with the planning and tide times in order to avoid hazards. It would be akin to getting on a roller coaster, which once underway, had you committed until the ride ended. Karl was also travelling to Seattle but would be taking the Pacific Ocean route. We hope to meet up with him in Seattle and swap journey notes.

The forested landscape and coastal mountain range surrounding Port Hardy makes it ideal for outdoor pursuits and nature trails. Information in the harbour office, advertised hikes, wildlife tours, fishing trips and great surfing spots to name but a few. For our first evening back on land, all I wanted was a glass of wine and a bowl of chips. We’d had to wait on the boat for hours after arriving because of a mix up over customs, who thought we were in the city of Vancouver as opposed to Vancouver Island. By the time this was sorted out it was fairly late and the local pub had stopped serving food (last orders were at 9 30). The Inn further down the road had a 30 minute longer time limit and we sat at a table overlooking Hardy Bay watching the sun set enjoying the first meal someone else had cooked in weeks. The drink was most welcome too.

 

Naturally there were a lot of jobs to be done to get the boat looking shipshape, both inside and out, but we made time to walk and cycle around the area and got to know it quite well. One of our first excursions, to get mobile phone data led us to a popular café, which is also a bookshop and has local crafts and paintings for sale. Café Guido offers free wifi to customers and after learning of the extraordinary high prices for phone packages in Canada, we opted to use public places for internet use. A visit to the supermarket later on revealed that it wasn’t only data packages that were expensive here. Despite the gloriously wide range of choice and the intriguing products on offer there, I had to curb my enthusiasm due to the steep prices even for basic things like bread and fruit and vegetables. Still, it was nice to be able to read the ingredients on the labels and of course, to find ‘real’ bread on display.

We had to continue sleeping on the bunks in the cabin for a couple of nights because water had found its way onto the mattress during the passage. That, along with the usual clothes, bedding and towels had to be cleaned and dried. The weather was perfect for this. One of the first things I noticed on land was the contrast from the Asian climate. When it’s hot and sunny here, it’s dry and clear. There’s no humidity, and in the evenings after the sun has gone down, it’s positively chilly instead of sultry and sweaty.  During one early morning walk up to the office to use the wifi, I spotted the biggest bird I have ever seen outside of a wildlife centre perched on the railings. I didn’t know it then but it was a bald eagle and it was attracting quite a bit of attention so I guessed it wasn’t that common an occurrence. People were gathering to photograph and film it, for which it just remained still, occasionally turning its head from side to side, completely unfazed. One boy of about ten, told me he’d always wanted to see one this close. It seemed all the local wildlife was coming out in force for us then. I wondered when we’d see our first bear! Black bears live in the area, as well as Grizzlies and brown ones apparently. Not very au fait with the differences, a glimpse of any one of them would thrill me to bits – from a safe distance obviously.

We had a wonderful cycle ride along the Quatse Loop and Estuary Trail one afternoon. Info on the leaflet we had stated that resident black bears are often seen ascending from the forest to look for a salmon meal. All we saw were the gorgeous pine forests, clear babbling brooks and stunning views across the bay as we rode through its rural lanes and paths. Like most of Vancouver Island, Port Hardy was home to ‘First Nations’ indigenous communities before the coming of European explorers. The culture and history of the Kwakiutl First Nation are celebrated and told of throughout the town, in the museum, on signs along the boardwalk and trails, and in sculptures and totems on the promenade. There were countless books on sale in the shop relating the stories and histories of First Nation tribes, and much as I’d like to know more about it, it’s too vast a subject to delve into on a visit such as this. I contented myself with a guide to the Inside Passage, just to check out the experiences of others on its whirlpools, rapids and tide rips (for a ‘what could possibly go wrong’ scenario). More than anything, it will be thrilling to be passing by the locations that Captain George Vancouver encountered in his quest to find the Northwest Passage in 1792.

Our first destination along the infamous route was to be Siontula on Malcolm Island in The Queen Charlotte Strait. Before setting off we had to wait to be separated from the boat that had rafted up next to us the day before, and then headed over to the fuel dock to restock. A somewhat chillier trip than the day trips we were accustomed to in Asia, it did at least give me the chance to try out my new hot water bottle up in the cockpit. I didn’t want to miss the stunning views on either side of us by huddling down in the cabin. The sea was flat calm and we motored for all of the five hour journey.

We rafted next to a fishing boat in the small harbour, checked in and set off to check out the town. It had warmed up by then and the walk was a lot longer than I expected. We passed some quaint looking houses on the uphill road to town. One of them had a sign proclaiming the road was called ‘Raggedy Ass’! The tiny town is proud of its eccentric status. Siontula means ‘place of harmony’ in Finnish and was set up by Finnish immigrants at the end of the 19th century. Its aim was to ‘create a society where property was communal; everyone shared; everyone participated and everyone was equal, including women’ – quite a revolutionary concept for the times. Their belief in ‘sound body, sound mind’ included the banning of alcohol and the failure of this first community is apparently due to its leader being more idealistic than practical. There may be a link there ;-). Another leader took the reins and lasted for four years but financial constraints forced the island to be returned to British Colombia’s government.

The few remaining residents in Siontula formed a community with their own vision. They purchased land and turned to commercial fishing and logging by hand. Pride of place was the Co-Operative Store, built in 1909, a fascinating building which we came upon as we entered the main street. The posters and flyers attached to the walls indicate the ethos of the town is still aiming for the ‘hippy’ ideal of freedom and cooperation. It reminded me a little of Glastonbury. The focus is on green issues, protecting the environment, organic locally made produce and bringing residents together with seasonal events such as an annual Spring Bird Count, Mother’s Day Plant Sale, a Pet ‘Pawrade’ and Winter Bazaar. Here, local dogs and cats have right-of-way, so if you see one lying in the road you must let it sleep and go around it. Everyone we came across greeted us with a cheery hello or smile. There was a little deer nibbling at a hedge in one of the well-kept gardens overlooking the coast. The place was certainly living up to its Utopian goal. I couldn’t help noticing that one of the signs was for the next meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. Another, was from an outraged dog owner appealing for information about the driver who had knocked over and killed her beloved pet. She’d managed to get a detailed description of his van, but he must have been a visitor because it’s the sort of town where everyone knows each other – and he clearly wasn’t aware of the ‘pets having right of way’ rule. We (ok, I) wanted to go to the local pub which had a grand view of the bay, but as we tried the door, a lady cycling by told us it didn’t open until 4 30. It was too long to hang around, as we’d pretty much done the town by then, and a 30 minute return walk lay ahead of us. I liked Siontula.

Port Neville the following day was a tinier version of Siontula. A Norwegian man named Hansen had settled there in the 1890s. Thanks to his building log cabins there the port became a stop for Union Steamships and Hansen began trading with the local tribes and soon other settlers and loggers arrived. In 1895 he became the first postmaster there and the post office/general store carried on trading until 2010. It was this abandoned building that caught my eye from our anchorage, although I didn’t know it was deserted then. The trip there had been great, with stunningly beautiful snow-capped mountainous landscapes on either side of us. I sat on the sunny coach roof or deck-sides for the whole time watching it all. We’d hoped to spot whales on Robson Bight, an ecological preserve where orcas go to rub their bellies on the flat stones in the summer (no one knows why) but it was sadly empty.

We dinghied over to the still-standing government dock and tied up underneath it. As we got out, a lady on an American yacht that was tied to the jetty warned us that if we were walking in far, to watch out for black bears and for Grizzlies because sightings of both had been reported nearby. I wasn’t sure if I felt elated or scared! I just wanted to have a look at the empty store, which looked so much like the one from the TV programme The Waltons, it was uncanny. There were a few other dwellings but they seemed to be holiday lets. I think the area is uninhabited since the Hansen family left a few years ago. After peering in the windows of the store, which serves as a museum for pre-booked guides, we walked into the wooded area and bravely on to the spot where the woman said the bears had been seen. It was deathly silent and a bit eerie – easy to imagine one springing out from the trees. Apparently you’re supposed to make yourself look bigger, and yell loudly if confronted. I didn’t fancy putting this to the test. We returned to the dinghy to head for our next ‘must see’, the curiously-named Robber’s Nob. This is a cape where the Hansen children through generations used to go to picnic and play and is a notable beauty spot. It took ages to get there but there was plenty to see on the way. The sea was littered with huge triffid-like seaweed plants that we had to be wary of getting caught in the propeller. The buildings on this shore were more like those in teenage horror films set in summer camps, like Friday the 13th rather than the wholesome Waltons. It was decidedly creepy. Very quiet, still, empty and with an abandoned atmosphere, despite one of the buildings looking well kept up. I declined Paul’s offer to stop and explore. Looking it up later, we discovered it became something of a hippy community in the 60s, hence the deserted buildings. I guess the newer one is a holiday let or summer retreat. Ideal for an away-from-it-all break, or if you enjoy complete silence and solitude in the dark woods.

From there we journeyed on to one of the best anchorages I’ve seen so far. Called Small Inlet in Kanish Bay on Quadra Island, it was breathtakingly gorgeous. There was something to delight most of the senses: the aroma of pine and cedar, the sight of the timeless wilderness all around us (and we saw a seal here), the cries of birds and cicadas, and the fish jumping. Once we were anchored at about 2pm, it was gloriously sunny and there were only three other boats in the area. The pictures speak for themselves – it’s going to be hard to beat the tranquillity and sheer beauty of Kanish Bay. It was so still it was hard to tell we were at anchor. We enjoyed a dinghy trip and obviously took lots of pictures. The forest around us looked to me like the ideal habitat for bears, but if they were in there we didn’t see any.

We moved on to Campbell River the next day (Monday 6th August). To get there we had to cross the infamous Seymour Narrows. It’s this location that makes so many mariners anxious, but as Paul has said, it was a bit of an anti-climax when we crossed it. Not that I’m complaining. At full flood it would have been like being on a fairground log flume from his description, and I was happy enough to forego that experience! It’s safe to say I’ve fallen for British Colombia in a big way, despite the steep cost of things. Our next stop on the journey to Seattle, Prevost Island, takes in another notoriously tricky crossing; this one is called Dodd Narrows and it’s imperative to get the tide times right when going into it. Jonathan Raban describes trying to make it ‘before the flood tide turned it into a breakneck slalom run’!

Kathy