Thursday 15th August – Still in Walter’s Cove, halfway through the month and it seemed we were finally rid of Fogust’s fog. It was blisteringly hot by mid-morning when we got in the dinghy and motored over to the shore on the other side of the cove. Paul wanted to get an idea of the water’s depth for when we leave and also to have a look in the little store in the Kyuquot Native community village which we’d been looking at through the binoculars. The water is crammed with huge, sprawling seaweed plants (kelp) and I was afraid they would get tangled in the outboard’s propeller but at least the water was clear enough to see any large rocks. We tied up at the dock outside the store at the same time as a lone kayaker and had a chat with him. Hailing from The Netherlands, he had been kayaking his way around Vancouver Island for five weeks and had almost completed his journey. He told us that one night he had encountered a mother bear with cubs scarily near his tent while camping in the woods and that he often heard animal noises near him at night. We all went into the store, which was low on stock at that time but we bought cold drinks and chocolate bars and sat on the pontoon to chat some more with our new Dutch friend about our respective journeys.
An hour or so later we tied up at Java the Hutt café to make use of their wifi. The owner lives up to his description in Waggoners Cruising Guide as one of the friendliest people on the coast, who makes a point of chatting with all his customers. He told us that the building used to operate as the village school house. Overhearing this, a First Nation lady sitting at a nearby table with her family looked across and informed us she used to attend the school back in the 70s and that she hailed from the village we’d just come from.
We also learned that everyone looks forward to Thursdays as it’s the day the Uchuck III arrives with supplies for local shops and businesses. For that reason the café would be closing early so we wouldn’t be able to have dinner there as planned. We opted for a late lunch at 4pm instead so that we would be back in time to watch the Uchuck dock just along from our berth. The boat also brings guests for the resort and fishing lodges and later on we sat in our cockpit watching the bustle and activity early in the evening as passengers were met, greeted and taken off to various lodges and boats, while cargo was unloaded onto skiffs and carts to be distributed around the island.
Next day we waited for the shop to open at 1pm and stocked up with a few more provisions before leaving, along with Robert and Vanessa, at 2pm for an anchorage at Dixie Cove. There was enough wind for Paul to get the headsail out, so I made the most of the peace and the gentle motion to sit at the bow enjoying the warmth and the stunning views all around me.
For Good took the lead on this trip and were already anchored in the outer cove when we arrived at 5 o’clock. We went further in to the inner cove and just as we were setting the anchor, a motor boat sped up alongside us to warn that they were logging in the forest opposite and not to be alarmed by loud explosions. I’m glad he told us because the noise when it came about 30 minutes later was extremely loud and seemed to me to shake the whole boat! Thankfully there were no more after that one. We dinghied over to For Good with some beer to discuss the trip for the following day, getting back to ours just before it got dark. Despite the warmer weather it gets very chilly once the sun goes down, and it seemed ages before we got back into the warmth of the boat.
As discussed with Robert and Vanessa, we would be heading for Rugged Point at 10 on Saturday 17th, a short trip to a spot with some good beaches and recommended woodland trails. I was most interested to read in Waggoners that bear and cougar prints had been spotted on the beaches there. Luckily, since we planned to spend some time on these ‘spectacular’ beaches, the weather improved from cloudy to decidedly hot and sunny as the morning went on. At 11 o’clock we anchored opposite a beach with several tents pitched on it.
The four of us dinghied over to the long beach, greatly excited to see a black bear ambling along on the adjacent beach. After hauling the dinghies up the beach we discovered the trail entrances weren’t located on this particular one but I was thrilled to see that there were paw prints, which Robert and Vanessa were able to confirm were indeed bear and cougar prints. Before heading off to the next beach, they went back to their boat to pick up their bear spray!
We enjoyed almost four hours of beachcombing, walking, sitting in the sun, chatting to other visitors and taking pictures. The trails involved pulling ourselves up by ropes on some of the steeper parts! Back on the beach we were keen to find a sand dollar. A lady we spoke to had informed us she had seen one nearby. Vanessa described them to us and not long after, she found one which she was kind enough to give to us as a souvenir. Hard to believe it’s actually the skeleton of a type of sea urchin; it looks so much like someone decorated a stone with an exquisite flower. Robert said he thought one of the animal prints looked like it might be a wolf; I marvelled at the fact that we had been walking in the same habitat of so many wild creatures.
Early on Sunday morning, the fog I thought we had seen the last of, returned and caused some uncertainty about whether we should move on or not, especially as the coastguard had warned of gales in the area. Then it started to rain! Still, we concluded it was ok to go (despite Paul’s casual remark that in the worst case scenario we would just be blown onto some jagged rocks). The waves bounced us around immediately we left the shelter of the anchorage. From our skimpy beach clothes of the day before, we now had to pull on thermal layers, oilies and hats and gloves. Before long, the waves were pushing and pulling us in a side-to-side motion that was annoying but bearable and we’d certainly endured worse. I just hoped Robert and Vanessa weren’t finding it too uncomfortable. We listened to every weather forecast that came through (often too distorted to make out) and discovered it looked likely the rough conditions would continue for a few more days but would probably get no worse.
After negotiating our way through a narrow gap and avoiding the many rocks in the area, the shelter of the anchorage, as always, provided respite from the elements and by 1 30 we were settled and secure in Nuchalitz Provincial Park. It was too overcast and chilly to go exploring so once Paul had been over to see how For Good had fared on the journey, we shut the hatches and got on with the enjoyable pastime of relaxing.
Tahsis, the port of call for Monday 19th had a very enticing description regarding facilities on offer in Waggoners. We could expect wide ‘cell’ coverage (note how I have become used to using that word instead of mobile), WiFi, shore power, water, fuel and a huge supermarket. All things we take for granted during daily life in the UK, which although are not missed terribly when they aren’t freely available, does make you appreciate them after a period of doing without their benefits. Robert and Vanessa left the anchorage at 9am but as Paul wanted to have a look at the abandoned First Nation village referred to in the book, we said we’d meet them in Tahsis. I hoped I hadn’t made a mistake electing to stay on board to catch up on other things as he dinghied off to explore, especially as he was gone for quite a while. It turned out the abandoned village wasn’t much to look at but he had loved walking on the sand spit at low tide, observing the sea creatures, birds and shells.
I offered to make some toast when he returned. We’d been doing this the old fashioned way, using the grill part of the oven: you know…it involves actually having to turn the bread over to brown the other side! Halfway through, however there was a small whoomph-like explosion which kept repeating after more attempts to light it. Paul concluded later that it was broken and a bit too risky to fix. We improvised and used an oven shelf atop the flames on the gas rings. Never mind, we said, at Tahsis we could bring the toaster back into use using the shore power. There was no wind so we motored all the way, passing tiny communities nestling at the bottom of steep-sided mountains.
Just before two we could see Westview Marina in the distance and I thought then that it didn’t seem as big as I had expected. Paul called ahead to check they had room for us and they provided directions for the fuel dock. We had to look for a green building with a red roof, which to someone who is red/green colour blind isn’t a whole lot of use. Robert came to greet us as we were filling up to tell us we’d be berthing just behind them on the pontoon. It was only a short distance away. Robert took our lines and we tied up. Now for the chance to catch up on internet stuff, I thought, expecting to see the Rogers telephone signal displayed on my phone. It wasn’t there – in fact no provider was displayed, and for WiFi it seemed we’d have to go to the café, while connecting to shore power would prove too expensive just for the the luxury of toasting bread. Things didn’t improve much after that…
We arranged to go with Robert and Vanessa in the marina’s courtesy car to the supermarket at 4 30. Paul went on ahead to find the rubbish bins while I went to the restaurant to check out their menu for dinner later. Stepping out into the bright sunlight, I spotted Paul on the bridge leading to the car park and strode out to catch up. I didn’t notice the gap between the restaurant building and the pontoon and walked on assuming I was on solid ground. I must have stumbled through the gap with my right foot, tried to regain my balance and only succeeded in tumbling back so that my right side hit the restaurant wall and then all of me sank into the water. As often reported in such accidents, it seemed to happen in slow motion but was probably very fast to the onlookers, including Paul, who rushed to grab my hands and pull me up as soon as I resurfaced from the narrow gap. I still had my bag on my shoulder and could taste salt water in my mouth. My first thoughts were about what might be in the water and did I swallow any before wondering if my phone was in the bag. Once I was back on terra firma and had assured the small gathering of people that I was ok, Paul checked my bag to confirm my phone was indeed inside it. Restaurant staff appeared with two towels to wrap round me and Paul led me away from the scene of my mishap back to the boat. All I wanted to do was wash the water off me and rinse my mouth out, remembering with horror that a fish-gutting table had been fairly near the spot where I fell in. I was aware of a vague pain in my left leg which intensified as the evening went on but it felt good to be clean again. My phone was put into what I termed the ‘intensive care bag’ (pictured below) which someone had given Paul as a gift due to his propensity for dropping tech equipment in the water. I was surprised that it had come on at all, but time would tell if any permanent damage had occurred. (Update – Paul refused to give up on it and finally managed to fix it completely on September 5th.)
A little later than planned, we met Robert and Vanessa in the car park and piled into the 4×4 car for the short drive to the centre of Tahsis. Despite my little accident I was looking forward to stocking up on provisions and maybe finding a bar to have a much needed drink. When we got there we were all disappointed to see that the ‘supermarket’ was little more than a store with the usual hiked up prices and limited stock. We picked up some basics anyway and decided to go back to the marina’s ‘Island Attitude Coffee Café’ for a drink and something to eat once the shopping had been put away. My leg was hurting pretty badly by then but I guessed it was just bruised or strained from the bashing it had taken. We all enjoyed the food and had a great evening chatting about the day’s events and future stops before I limped back to the boat. Paul managed to get us a bit of Wi-Fi so I was finally able to make contact with family and friends.
Next morning, waking at 4 45 I felt nauseous and immediately wondered if it was due to anything I had inadvertently ingested from the sea water but Paul laughed away my concerns about parasites and worms. He did tell Robert and Vanessa we wouldn’t be leaving until I felt a bit better though and recommended they go on ahead. By midday, still limping a bit but not as queasy, we negotiated the boat out of a fairly tight spot and motored away from Tahsis, en route to Ewin Inlet.
It was a cool and cloudy day and Paul said it was cold in the cockpit. I stayed below still fighting off occasional waves of nausea. Robert called on the radio to let us know there was a black bear on our port side. I came up to look and could see it so clearly I was even able to make out the wind blowing its thick fur. They came over in the dinghy once we were all anchored and we sat in the cabin drinking and chatting late into the evening as it rained heavily outside.
We spent all of Wednesday 21st August at Ewin Inlet in order to sit out a spell of rough weather. Looking through the binoculars early in the afternoon, we spotted that the Beneteau anchored near to us had two cats on board, playing on top of the boat’s canopy. During his kayak trip, Paul had a chat with the co captains, Carla and Kevin and returned to tell me they had invited us, along with Rob and Vanessa for drinks later that afternoon. We hitched a ride with them for the short dinghy trip over and spent a pleasant evening on board their boat Gargoyle getting to know Carla and Kevin and their delightful Devon Rex cats, Sam and Dean. I wished I had taken my other phone across to get pictures of the cats, but I’m even more wary of damaging devices now. They had such striking eyes, and were very entertaining with their playful antics. They make great boat cats I’m told ;-)…
Four boats in the Ewin Inlet anchorage planned to journey to Hot Springs Cove the following morning. One of these had arrived late the previous afternoon. The guy on board told Paul he’d been having engine trouble and had had to return to the inlet to work on the problem. Paul spoke to him before we left to check he had got it sorted and to let him know we were all leaving shortly in case he needed help. It turned out he would be heading our way too, later in the day and it seemed likely we would all meet up there at some point. It was a beautiful sunny morning but we’d heard it was quite rough further out in the Pacific. Gargoyle left first and Kevin told Paul he would let him know if conditions were rough out there. For Good were next, and we weighed anchor just after 10.
We estimated it would be a 6 or 7 hour trip and Paul was keen to get sailing so the mainsail was hoisted as soon as we had cleared the inlet. As the day went on, nice as it was to be without the noise of the engine, the waves were high enough to be causing a ‘pitching and tossing’ motion and through radio chats with Robert, it became clear they weren’t having a very good time of it on For Good. Their engine had failed and it was too choppy for them to set their sails in the strong ocean swell. Noticing they were falling further behind, we turned around to check they were ok. It was decided the best course of action would be to abandon plans for Hot Springs Cove and make for the closer destination of Hesquiat Bay. At 6pm both we and For Good anchored there while under sail. That was a first for me and I hadn’t heard Paul tell me we’d be doing it so it caught me on the hop a little. It had been a long day for all of us and it felt good to be secured for the night. We agreed to see what conditions were like before making a decision about where and when to move on.
Friday 23rd August dawned with uncertainty about what to do. There was only a small window of opportunity weather-wise in which to leave for Hot Springs Cove even though it’s only a short distance away. Robert was still working on the engine problem so we thought it best to stay where we were for another day. We watched a black bear from the cockpit for a while but it was turning out to be a grey, chilly day. Paul took the dinghy out to explore the possibility of an alternative anchorage and I took the opportunity to make some bread as we were running low. Last time I had made bread it hadn’t turned out terribly well but we suspected it had something to do with the yeast not being fresh. This time, both loaves came out really well. We planned to give one to Robert and Vanessa that evening but they decided on an early night in preparation for the next day’s journey. We had a film night instead! Paul discovered he had downloaded Gandhi as well as a few other films we’d forgotten about. I only lasted an hour before falling asleep, and it’s a three hour film so it looks like we’ll have to watch in in ‘episodes’.
The weather didn’t look too promising the next day; chilly, foggy and wet. Robert called at 8 30 to say they were setting off for Hot Springs Cove and would see us there. We set off at 9 and the weather had improved by 10 with rays of sunlight making the waves sparkle and it got steadily sunnier and warmer from then on. Paul pointed out that we were now leaving the wilderness behind and were heading towards more built-up and populated areas. Hot Springs Cove, however, didn’t appear to be crowded despite its description as a popular tourist destination. We did see tour boats, float planes and a few other anchored yachts, but there was plenty of room for us in its picturesque cove. We anchored near to the shore on the First Nation village side. On the other side we could see the camp site and the entrance to the park with a boardwalk leading to the hot springs.
Although it was midday, we decided to wait until late afternoon to do the 1.25 mile long walk to the springs, following the advice in Waggoners that this would avoid the summer day tripper crowds. We were glad we did when Robert and Vanessa returned from their earlier trip and said it was hard to move freely at the springs for all the people gathered there. We set off at 5 30 when the temperature was pleasantly warm after the heat of the day and the light was beautiful from the sinking sun.
The boardwalk begins shortly after entering the forest. Waggoners provides the history of this useful and artistic path. Before its construction, the route to the springs was a muddy, difficult trek or accessible only by boat, so locals and visiting boaters began contributing individual planks to create a boardwalk, originally from sections of logs on-site. Inscribed on these were the names of boats along with dates and messages. In time the original pathway had to be replaced with brand new 2×6 wooden planks but the tradition of carving words remained. BC Parks allowed people to pre carve planks and leave them with park rangers for later installation and then sold bare planks for the same purpose. They make an impressive sight and it’s impossible to ignore the names and messages as you walk along. The boardwalk program is no longer in operation, however due to good old ubiquitous health and safety regulations.
When not scrutinising the planks, the rainforest around us provided its own attractions. The trees were spectacular, as you’d expect in Canada. Their roots were the stuff of fairy tales, spreading out far from the base of the huge trunks to form intriguing shapes and hollows. The branches at the lower part of the trunk were as big as some of the smaller trees, and they too formed irregular and bendy shapes. In the early evening light it was truly a magical setting, especially with the heavy covering of leaves only letting chinks of light through above us – and all the better for having it mostly to ourselves. Pics below.
We knew we were near the springs when the smell of sulphur began to permeate the air and wisps of steam were visible a little way ahead. A few more people were around now, beginning to make their return trip along the boardwalk back to the camp site or hurrying to make the departure of the last tourist boat. We stopped to read a sign near the springs that explained they originate from a fault deep down in the plates, which made Paul think immediately of earthquakes.
Undeterred by the prospect of earthquakes, however, he wasted no time in getting changed and stepping gingerly down into the hot, sulphurous steamy water. The pool itself is quite small, located amid a bed of jagged rocks, but at intervals waterfalls of hot water cascade down from the upper rocks to create a natural shower. Apparently people used to bathe nude in there and wash themselves with soap and shampoo but all this is now banned and swimming attire is required. Watching him sit there enjoying the force of the hot water on his head, back and shoulders so that it felt like a massage, I wished I’d mustered the courage to join him. Still, it was pleasant enough to sit in the evening sunlight and watch pretty blue birds with distinctive black mohican crests flying around, which I’ve since found out are called Stellar’s Jay. Try as I might though I could not get a good picture of them. Instead, here are some of Paul enjoying the springs.
There was no need for an early departure the following day. We hadn’t settled on anywhere to definitely head for next so popped over to For Good to discuss destinations. Bacchante Bay was the place we decided on, and little did I know it would prove to be one of the most stunningly beautiful location I had seen so far. The three hour passage began at midday, and the weather remained clear, bright and sunny. By 1 o’clock Paul had all three sails up and we sailed peacefully through beautiful steep forested hills, where the trees displayed every shade of green you could imagine. Even though we made slow progress when the wind dropped, it hardly mattered when we could drink in those exhilarating views. Added to this was the exciting prospect that at any moment we might spot a bear.
For Good was sitting at anchor when we arrived at 3 30. Their dinghy was missing from behind the boat and we spotted it on the log-strewn beach opposite. Behind the beach was a grassy meadow, leading into lush forest – unmistakeable bear territory: Robert had clearly wasted little time in going ashore to explore the area. Looking around, once we’d secured the anchor it was easy to see why. In this secluded haven we were surrounded by thickly forested cliffs, the highest we’d seen yet. It was extremely quiet and still, with only the odd ‘plop’ of fish jumping to break the silence. A snow-capped mountain in the distance completed the breathtaking scenes. I was content to sit and stare, but for a closer view of the rocky inlets at the bottom of the cliffs, Paul got in the kayak and spent ages paddling round the shores.
The four of us finished the day sitting in our cabin drinking and chatting and swapping the results of our homemade (or boatmade) baking sessions. Vanessa brought some delicious cookies and I gave them a loaf of another successful batch of freshly-baked bread.
Monday 26th August, a bank holiday in the UK, began for us with the delightful sight of a black bear ambling along the beach in the early morning sunlight. In such an enchanting location, with sights like that I think all of us were tempted to stay longer. We were all in need of replenishing various items for our store cupboards though so we stuck to our plan of leaving at 9 30 for Tofino so that we could hit the shops. Not long after departing, Paul took us on a short cut around an island that turned out to have some alarming shallow patches and rocks that looked a bit too close for comfort (‘we will be fine’, he said). It was worth it though because it turned out to be very pretty. Luckily we saw it before the fog descended around midday. I positioned myself at the bow to keep a lookout for buoys and boats.
We knew it would be shallow water on the approach to Tofino so we all stuck rigidly to the route mapped out on the chart. Buoys near the marina were emblazoned with the word ‘shallow’ on a bright pink surface – perhaps for those who hadn’t researched the area. For Good had called ahead and booked us a place in the marina where would be rafting together on a pontoon fairly close to that pink buoy. We would go in first to tie up so that we’d be on hand to assist Robert and Vanessa with their first rafting. Despite the three of us (not Paul, naturally) being anxious about the decreasing depth the nearer we got to the pontoon, we rafted the boats together with no hassles. After checking in, we met at a bar in Tofino’s main street for some well-earned refreshment. The town wasn’t what I had expected at all. We’d heard it was a tourist town, prone to crowds and noise. Waggoners warn of experiencing culture shock from its commerce, loud engines, traffic and tourists. Maybe I was imagining somewhere like our busy UK seaside resorts, some of which can be garish, noisy and shabby – especially in high season. Tofino is none of these – it’s elegant, charming and picturesque, surrounded as it is by wild natural scenery and beaches; while its lakes, inlets and the ocean make it popular with surfers, kayakers and sea-life enthusiasts. Tasteful gift shops, shops selling sporting essentials and inviting cafes and bars line the main street along with art galleries and museums. It was busy and vibrant, yet even after the tranquillity we’d come from it was pleasant and definitely not loud and rowdy as I’d been dreading. I felt sure I was going to enjoy our few days in Tofino.
We spent three days on the pontoon making the most of marina facilities, going for walks, replenishing provisions and trying out the restaurants. On the 29th we decided to move out into the anchoring area at Duffin Passage until conditions were favourable enough to move further along the coast. The current was very strong and it took us two attempts to set the anchor. The water all around us was choppy but it was just about cope-able, and even though noisy float planes regularly took off and flew closely overhead, I was content to stay put rather than go out in that current again. Robert and Vanessa bravely chose to weigh anchor and seek a more calm location to ensure a peaceful night.
For Good ended up in a place called God’s Pocket and we met them there a couple of days later. The current was not as strong as when we anchored but we had a bit of a shock not long after we’d left the anchorage when a fisherman coming from the opposite direction warned us that there was a submerged rock to watch out for. Paul quickly located it on the chart and said we would have missed it anyway. The water was shallow and we were surrounded by whirlpools and eddies which made it impossible for the autohelm to steer so Paul had to take the helm while I kept an eye on the depth and looked out for crab pots for the hour long journey. The current got so strong at one point, that we were effectively not moving forward and Paul had to increase the revs to push us on. It was a relief to be in God’s Pocket (that’s a phrase I never though I would say) and spot For Good sitting on calm, still water in a pretty location. We spent an enjoyable last evening of August on their boat chatting for hours, since sadly they won’t be joining us on our trip down the west coast and we’d be heading off in different directions the next day. We will be keeping in touch, though and hopefully will meet up on future journeys. This turned out to be a lot sooner than we expected…
Kathy