Thursday, June 16, 2016
Cow Bay, Prince Rupert, BC
Just a little report for our cruising friends out there. We are staying in the brand new Cow Bay Marina, in Prince Rupert. The marina had a plumbing problem, so at the moment there are no toilets or showers. The power outlets are not fully installed, so if you plan to stay here, and you want power on the dock, bring a really long cord. There is no discount for the lack of service. Repair schedule uncertain. Oh, and the finger slips are pretty short too. And we are rocking pretty hard, catching a lot of wake. Just sayin'.
Catching up on some photos
Marina wi-fi basically stinks in most places, so I have been struggling to get pictures posted. Here are few of my favorites.
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| Morning, the Strait of Georgia |
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| This guy just belongs in a boat, wouldn't you say? |
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| A piece of history |
Two most amazing anchorages
For the last several days we have been motoring north, visiting the coolest, most out-of-the-way places we can find. We found some winners. Rising to the top of the list are Khutze Inlet and Baker Inlet. We picked these stops because they are wild and remote, but most especially because there is the potential to see bears. Grizzly bears, even. Big, fat 55-gallon drum grizzly bears.
Ok, so we didn't see any grizz. But we did wake up this morning to 2 of the biggest, fattest black bears we have ever seen. Rambling along the shoreline, rooting around in the grass. And we were safely cozied up in our boat, watching with binos.
Baker Inlet was especially amazing. To enter the inlet, you pass through a channel called Watts Narrows. This channel is only wide enough for one small boat to pass through, and it zig zags and has a strong current and tree branches overhanging the water. Once you enter the channel, you are committed to going through, as there is no room to turn around. If the current slams you up against the wall, well, too bad. We managed to hit the timing just right when we entered, and entered at the slack. But this morning, we faced about a 4 kt current and it was a might dicey.
Anyway, once past the narrows, the channel opens up to this serene wonderland of glossy water and trees and loons and fish and mist and, as I mentioned, bears. It is 3 miles back to the head of the inlet, where we anchored. The surrounding mountain slopes still held snow.
Near dusk, a commercial shrimp boat entered the cove and anchored near us. We were the only boats around. Frank and Collin motored over in the dingy and asked if they would like to sell us some shrimp. Sure! A big bag of still alive spot prawns was exchanged for some Canadian $$, and everyone felt good. Topped that off with some Dungeness in the crab traps and it was a successful day all around.
Ok, so we didn't see any grizz. But we did wake up this morning to 2 of the biggest, fattest black bears we have ever seen. Rambling along the shoreline, rooting around in the grass. And we were safely cozied up in our boat, watching with binos.
Baker Inlet was especially amazing. To enter the inlet, you pass through a channel called Watts Narrows. This channel is only wide enough for one small boat to pass through, and it zig zags and has a strong current and tree branches overhanging the water. Once you enter the channel, you are committed to going through, as there is no room to turn around. If the current slams you up against the wall, well, too bad. We managed to hit the timing just right when we entered, and entered at the slack. But this morning, we faced about a 4 kt current and it was a might dicey.
Anyway, once past the narrows, the channel opens up to this serene wonderland of glossy water and trees and loons and fish and mist and, as I mentioned, bears. It is 3 miles back to the head of the inlet, where we anchored. The surrounding mountain slopes still held snow.
Near dusk, a commercial shrimp boat entered the cove and anchored near us. We were the only boats around. Frank and Collin motored over in the dingy and asked if they would like to sell us some shrimp. Sure! A big bag of still alive spot prawns was exchanged for some Canadian $$, and everyone felt good. Topped that off with some Dungeness in the crab traps and it was a successful day all around.
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| Water like glass in Baker Inlet |
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| Waterfalls galore |
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| Fjords of BC |
Cape Caution
We picked up Collin in Port McNeill Thursday, and then Friday morning headed out for the biggest open water crossing of the trip - Cape Caution. Sorry Collin.
It was a long, white knuckle day. We got our butts kicked, but Captain Frank did a masterful job at the helm and got us safely to a beautiful and serene anchorage, Fury Cove. Once we got around the Cape we couldn't go the direction we wanted to go, because that put us in the trough of the waves. So Frank did a series of tacks that got us on the leeward side of some islands, where the waves were a little more manageable. Whew. When I have a better connection, I will post a video I took, before it "got rough".
It was a long, white knuckle day. We got our butts kicked, but Captain Frank did a masterful job at the helm and got us safely to a beautiful and serene anchorage, Fury Cove. Once we got around the Cape we couldn't go the direction we wanted to go, because that put us in the trough of the waves. So Frank did a series of tacks that got us on the leeward side of some islands, where the waves were a little more manageable. Whew. When I have a better connection, I will post a video I took, before it "got rough".
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| The reward after a tough crossing. |
Thursday, June 9, 2016
Port McNeill
We had quite a lot of time to kill, waiting for a weather window and for Collin to arrive from the lower 48, so we did a series of day trips to neighboring villages of Sointula and Alert Bay.
There seems to be something in the air here, where total strangers tell you deeply personal things within 2 minutes of meeting them. The young First Nations guys who told me stories of meetings ghosts in the old school building in Alert Bay. The docent in the Sointula Museum who explained the history of Sointula along with her own personal spiritual journey through Christianity, shamanism, Finnish mysticism, and more. She was on the verge of tears throughout her tour. The attendant at the Visitors Center who briefed us on her group therapy sessions with her sister. The whole experience was weirdly fascinating.
Sointula was founded as a Finnish socialist utopia in about 1909. Like so many of those experiments, the group split apart when it became clear that their charismatic leader was a jerk. In this case, he was a guy with great communication skills and no practical survival skills - also a taste for the ladies, including married ones. The 'People's Republic of Sointula' carries on, in its own unique way, as a haven for seekers of a better way of life.
Alert Bay is a First Nations community, famous for their carvers. The worlds tallest totem pole is there. Similar to what happened in the U.S., the 'black robes' (in this case the Anglican Church) came and started a residential school (St. Michael's) for the native children, with the intent of destroying the native culture. Children were subjected to physical, sexual, and emotional abuse. The school closed in 1974, official apologies were made in 2008, but the hulking old building was a source of pain for the residents until 2015, when the old school building was finally torn down. If you can believe that any place is haunted, then that place would have to be high on the list of ghostly attractions.
We also had our first whale sighting of the trip - a juvenile humpback, put on a good show!
There seems to be something in the air here, where total strangers tell you deeply personal things within 2 minutes of meeting them. The young First Nations guys who told me stories of meetings ghosts in the old school building in Alert Bay. The docent in the Sointula Museum who explained the history of Sointula along with her own personal spiritual journey through Christianity, shamanism, Finnish mysticism, and more. She was on the verge of tears throughout her tour. The attendant at the Visitors Center who briefed us on her group therapy sessions with her sister. The whole experience was weirdly fascinating.
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| This is the school bus that brings the kids from Sointula to Port McNeill for school. |
Sointula was founded as a Finnish socialist utopia in about 1909. Like so many of those experiments, the group split apart when it became clear that their charismatic leader was a jerk. In this case, he was a guy with great communication skills and no practical survival skills - also a taste for the ladies, including married ones. The 'People's Republic of Sointula' carries on, in its own unique way, as a haven for seekers of a better way of life.
Alert Bay is a First Nations community, famous for their carvers. The worlds tallest totem pole is there. Similar to what happened in the U.S., the 'black robes' (in this case the Anglican Church) came and started a residential school (St. Michael's) for the native children, with the intent of destroying the native culture. Children were subjected to physical, sexual, and emotional abuse. The school closed in 1974, official apologies were made in 2008, but the hulking old building was a source of pain for the residents until 2015, when the old school building was finally torn down. If you can believe that any place is haunted, then that place would have to be high on the list of ghostly attractions.
We also had our first whale sighting of the trip - a juvenile humpback, put on a good show!
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| A rare sight - Johnstone Strait in calm weather |
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
Dunvegan is Resurrected as Gold Star
Sitting at the dock in Port McNeill, Frank heard a boat named Gold Star on the radio call the harbor. We ran into Dunvegan (our old boat) on the docks in Bellingham a few years ago so knew her name had been changed to Gold Star. Sure enough, here comes the little tug that could!
We went over to introduce ourselves and met Jere Montague and Sue Hodges, her new owners. Their pride of ownership really shines through. It helps that Jere is handy with wood work, and that they appreciate her for the great little boat she is. They have repowered her with a new John Deere marine engine, apparently the old Ford Lehman finally went belly up.
Many thanks to Jere and Sue, may you cruise safely for many years.
We went over to introduce ourselves and met Jere Montague and Sue Hodges, her new owners. Their pride of ownership really shines through. It helps that Jere is handy with wood work, and that they appreciate her for the great little boat she is. They have repowered her with a new John Deere marine engine, apparently the old Ford Lehman finally went belly up.
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| Gold Star at Port McNeill, BC June 2016 |
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| Dunvegan, about 2006 |
Monday, June 6, 2016
Johnstone Strait
I woke up on a sunny, calm Sunday morning in serene Handfield Bay. To the sound of the computer-voice of the marine weather forecast. She was saying -gale warnings in Johnstone Strait. Northwest wind building to 30 - 40 knots by Tuesday, bad Wednesday and Thursday too.
Most recreational cruisers avoid Johnstone Strait as much as they can. The alternative is a long, circuitous, but beautiful route through the islands that lay between Johnstone Strait and the mainland. This alternate route involves multiple passages through tidal rapids, but as described in my previous post, if you are careful with timing, you can safely make your way. We have always gone the long way in the past, because Johnstone Strait is fearsome, and because the long route has its own rewards.
But this trip, we have a schedule to keep. We need to be in Port Hardy to pick up our son Collin who is flying up from Portland to meet us. And there is no way to avoid Johnstone Strait completely. So what the heck do we do?
Pull anchor and head for Johnstone Strait, full speed ahead, that's what!
We pulled out into the Strait to find it dead calm and only one other boat in sight. 'Cause we are the only dumbasses stupid enough to go out there in a forecasted gale? NERVOUS. An hour later, still dead calm, still NERVOUS. Four hours later, a chop builds, oh crap, here it comes. Five hours later, the chop lays down, back to calm again. Starting to relax, maybe just a teeny bit. Still hardly any other recreational boaters, and only a few commercial guys.
Eight hours later, we pull into Port McNeill, Johnstone Strait behind us. It never did get rough.
Most recreational cruisers avoid Johnstone Strait as much as they can. The alternative is a long, circuitous, but beautiful route through the islands that lay between Johnstone Strait and the mainland. This alternate route involves multiple passages through tidal rapids, but as described in my previous post, if you are careful with timing, you can safely make your way. We have always gone the long way in the past, because Johnstone Strait is fearsome, and because the long route has its own rewards.
But this trip, we have a schedule to keep. We need to be in Port Hardy to pick up our son Collin who is flying up from Portland to meet us. And there is no way to avoid Johnstone Strait completely. So what the heck do we do?
Pull anchor and head for Johnstone Strait, full speed ahead, that's what!
We pulled out into the Strait to find it dead calm and only one other boat in sight. 'Cause we are the only dumbasses stupid enough to go out there in a forecasted gale? NERVOUS. An hour later, still dead calm, still NERVOUS. Four hours later, a chop builds, oh crap, here it comes. Five hours later, the chop lays down, back to calm again. Starting to relax, maybe just a teeny bit. Still hardly any other recreational boaters, and only a few commercial guys.
Eight hours later, we pull into Port McNeill, Johnstone Strait behind us. It never did get rough.
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