Yikes! Tribune Bay to Nanaimo

We talked to several people who warned us that if you are in Tribune Bay when a southeasterly starts to blow, it's time to pull up anchor and head out because it is hugely exposed to the Strait of Georgia. We wanted to revisit Tribune because we were rushed last time and wanted more time playing on the beach. I'm sure you can see where this is going.....so with nothing but sunny skies and calm winds in the forcast we headed out from Comox to the sandy beach of Tribune Bay. We spent two nights there, where we played on the beach and the rocks, jump-roped with long strands of kelp, and went for a long hike out over the bluffs. We noticed in the middle of the second night that the anchorage had gotten rollier. At 5:30 we heard a halyard banging like crazy on the mast so I climbed out of bed to tighten in hope that the boys would continue to sleep. I noticed at this point that the wind was distinctly southeasterly. We laid in bed just a little while longer as the waves built. At 6am, we were out of bed and I was at the front of the boat pulling up anchor. The forcast had changed and now we were looking at gale force southeast winds for the morning, strengthening and backing to northwest in the afternoon. Doh! The tricky thing about Tribune is that it's a haul to get anywhere protected. Our destination for the day was Nanaimo, forty miles away, down the Strait of Georgia. The the first hour or so was not so bad. We were sailing along with 8-10 knot winds at about 6-7 knots with 1-2 foot waves, comfortable enough that Aaron was still in bed. Then things got crazy. Wave size and wind increased, thus the angle we were heeled increased. Spray from the waves doused us as we have never been doused before. Aaron became very unhappy, as yells emmanated from below that things were flying everywhere, something that normally doesn't happen on our boat. At one point we were so heeled over that the kayak that is attached high up on the lifelines began to float. I was supremely unhappy at this point and we decided to reef. Carefully, I headed forward on the heaving deck and put two reefs in the mainsail. This helped for a while but wave size and wind kept increasing. This is where I crossed the line from squawking to flipping out, so we reefed the jib. Things were still really crazy as we pounded, on our side, through 5-6, closely spaced  foot waves....Aaron and I were so very sad. At this point we decided to drop the mainsail and run under jib alone, so again I headed out to the slippery, heaving deck to drop the main. With the wind so high, it was a fight to get it down as we pitched up and down. I then wrestled, as my feet slipped around, with spray from the waves dousing me again and again, to try to tie up the violently flapping sail so we could see properly....did I mention that I was unhappy...and flipping out? For sailors with a lot of experience, I'm sure that this was probably not a huge deal, but for a girl who grew up in Montana who is not used to water sports, it is cause for freak-out. Rationally, I know that the boat can handle just about anything. Me? Not so much. Sailing under jib alone was much more comfortable, but we were only making 4 knots and if we wanted to be out the Strait of Georgia before the winds shifted and got even stronger we needed to make much better time than that, so much to Jason's dismay, we furled the jib and turned on the engine to motor since we could make 7 knots that way. The waves remained around 5-6 feet, but hitting them upright made it less scary than plowing into them on our sides. As we neared Nanaimo, the water was more protected so were actually able to raise sails again for the last bit.  With much relief, we  safely made it to Nanaimo around 1:30 where we tied up to a dock and headed to a French bakery to drown our jitters away with coffee and pastries followed by bookstore browsing, before heading to an English pub for a couple of pints to chase down our comfort food.

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Grace Harbor to Comox

We had a short overnight stay at Grace Harbor, dashing out to find cell phone reception so Jason could make it to his many meetings scheduled for the day. Luckily, on the previous day, we had taken the hike up to a lake where we met a super-crusty, old sailor who spends summers on his boat in desolation sound and winters on his motorcycle in Mexico, Guatamala, and Belize. Jason took a "freshwater" dip but I wimped out when I witnessed the muddy, murky waters and was reminded of the resident leech population, even though I was desperate for a rinse since I was on day 11 without a shower. Early the next morning, we headed to Comox where I took the helm and Isaac worked as navigator through the patchy, morning fog while Jason participated in work meetings below. We retraced our path past Mitlenatch, pausing to watch and listen to the sea lions before heading on. We were on day 12 since our last water tank refill and so I was anxious to get to Comox so we could shower (and refill our tanks). Our spacing between refills was perfect as we drank the last drops along the way. After a whirlwind of watery, cleaning activities (showers, six loads of laundry, boat wash down), we headed to the Victoria Volunteer Search and Rescue to be reunited with our dinghy, Rosebud, after long last. We were met by Charles, a cheeky fellow, who retold the story of Rosebud's rescue and showed us on the chart where she was found. After being introduced to the whole crew, we were then treated to a tour of their rescue vessels, with lots of laughing and joking along the way. We had plans to row her back to our marina (which would have been quite a long row) so they told us not to worry about it, they would put her onto one of their vessels and drop her off. We liked Comox so much, we decided to stick around another day so we could explore a little. During the course of two days we managed to get most of our back-to-civilization errands done, eat at a family-run sushi place three times, visited several different book stores, gathered pears from a pear tree, bought salmon (frozen with a saltwater glaze) from a fisherman off the dock, as well as shrimp from the Big Shrimp Rancher who pulls his fishing boat into the docks every night at 6pm to a line of anxious customers ready to slap down $5 for a pound of hour-old shrimp. Yum.

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Squirrel Cove

We are back on Cortes Island, this time at Squirrel Cove which must be named for the flying squirrels that inhabit the forest. Here we were able to buy a few groceries and eat some yummy food from Flying Squirrel Take-out. Close to the anchorage, we took a great hike, dotted with gargantuan, old growth trees along the way, to Von Donop Inlet with hopes of catching a glimpse of a flying squirrel. No such luck. If you are brave enough you can come up the Von Donop Inlet in your boat, but at one point the passage is so narrow the tree branches on the shore scrape the boat as you pass through with a rock immediately to starboard. We are not that sort of brave so a hike was right up our alley. We were all in serious need of some uninhibited, bipedal, trail excercise at this point.

Back on Cortes Island, we just couldn't help but to call up Steve and Carol, who we had met at the Wildernest, to take them up on their offer to tie up to their dock. They own a peninsula on Windy Bay where they run the Tai Li Lodge, an upscale, rustic resort with secluded cabins, platform tents, and open-air solar showers, all with gorgeous views overlooking the Maine-esque, granite slabs that march down to the ocean. After we had our run of it for two days we headed on to Grace Harbor. It is such a beautiful piece of property, thanks for sharing it with us.

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Prideaux Haven

After Isaac's birthday we entered Desolation Sound national park and anchored in Prideaux Haven. In June 1792, Captain Vancouver said  about Desolation Sound,  "This area afforded not a single prospect that was pleasing to the eye, the smallest recreation on shore, no animal nor vegetable food, excepting a very scanty proportion of those eatables already described, and of which the adjacent country was soon exhausted, after our arrival....whence the place obtained the name Desolation Sound; where our time would have passed infinitely more heavily, had it not been relieved by the agreeable society of our Spanish friends." The scenery here is absolutely stunning but I can understand Vancouver's point that the  land here is difficult. I had imagined loads of hiking everywhere, but if there isn't a trail, you aren't going anywhere because the shrubbery is so thick and the slopes are extremely steep. It's forbidding country.  Prideaux Haven is said to be the home of the Flea Village, which Captain Vancouver's men stumbled upon. They found an abandoned  native village up on top of a cliff accessible only by a set of stairs wide enough for one person with a huge maple tree for guards to watch over the entrance to the densely packed houses. There was a terrible stench within the village and they were soon attacked by viscious fleas forcing them to rapidly retreat to the water where they stripped naked and dove into the water, submerging their clothes thoroughly but the fleas still "leaped about frisky as ever." They drug their clothes behind the boat without any luck of evicting the vigorous pests. Only after boiling their clothes were they victorious. We hoped to look around for signs of the village but the vegetation was so dense, we quickly gave up. We did manage to get a few views over the cove, however, and we are excited to come back here when we have two kayaks so we can more easily explore the numerous islands and inlets in this anchorage.


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Happy Birthday Isaac!

Isaac decided to spend his thirteenth birthday at Pendrel Sound where the water is fabled to be 80 degrees in August and September. It is standard practice in the Desolation Sound area that when anchored in a small, deep, rocky cove, you also secure your stern to the shore with a rope to prevent swinging, so Isaac and I paddled out in Blackberry and secured our very first stern tie. Back at the boat our thermometer read 68 degrees, much warmer than the other places we had visited, so we all swimsuited up and hopped in for a dip. It was so nice and refreshing. Afterward we sprawled out on our foredeck drying in the warm sun and playing a card game. Isaac awoke the following morning eager to find out if his birthday wish had come true. It was his lucky day, he received, Eclipse, the board game that he has been talking, thinking, and strategizing about for months now. We played it twice through the day and I still managed to slip out and go for another swim. After birthday candles and birthday treats, we went up on deck to check out the bioluminescence in the water which is crazy-bright in this big glacially carved sound. Fish and their paths glow as they swim through the water. Ripples grow in glowing circles outward into the dark. The boys and I paddled the kayak watching our bow wave glow and paddle marks swirl, leaving a glowing path behind us. For the grand finale I climbed into the water and treaded water with wide, sweeping movements. I am told that it was quite the sight and they had never seen anything so glow-y. When I climbed out of the water my skin sparkled and the boys said I looked like a mermaid. My swimsuit continued to sparkle even after I had taken it off and hung it up. Happy thirteenth birthday Isaac!


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Frances Bay to Wildernest

The mountains just keep getting bigger and bigger, steeper and steeper. Aaron desperately wanted to sail up Bute Inlet to see the biggest mountains that he had pinpointed on the map, but the channel is long, narrow, and dangerous, prone to wild, swirling winds that funnel down the steep slopes of the mountains. So we compromised on going to the mouth of the channel and inching in just a few miles before turning around and spending the night at Frances Bay. This country is very steep, very remote, feels very inaccessible, people are few and far between, and bears and wolves roam the steep slopes of the wilderness. After sailing in light winds the next day, we decided to tie up to a dock at the Wildernest just outside of Toba Inlet. It was here that we got the most spectacular views of mountains so far. We hiked up to a waterfall that serves as the water and power source for the owners of the Wildernest as well as its guests, and then on to a beautiful overlook. There were a few other guests docked here as well and we answered many questions about our boat. One man took so much interest that he gave us his phone number and invited us to tie up to his dock on Cortes Island if we pass through again. Maybe it's because its the off season and the crowds are gone, but people here are surprisingly warm and welcoming.

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Hitchhiking 101

Isaac read through the sailing guide for Desolation Sound and decided that he really wanted to go to Manson's Landing because it had an organic food co-op and a bookstore, so after Jason snorkeled in the freezing cold water (with much gasping from him and giggles from us) to check the hull for log damage, we headed out. Once there, we got our first set of lessons in deep water anchoring. Lesson  number one: it is harder to anchor in deep water. Lesson number two: you need a lot of chain to get the anchor to catch. Lesson number three: the chain is really heavy when hanging straight down. Lesson number four: I get really tired when I have to raise 200 feet of chain four times. After an hour of anchoring and re-anchoring, we finally met with success and  headed into shore to look for the bookstore, passing signs for a local Harvestfest along the way, only to find the store closed on account of Harvestfest. Luckily, the food co-op was still open so we went in and bought treats to help us make it back to the boat since it was already past dinner time. As we we paid, the cashier asked if we were going to Harvestfest. We weren't sure,  so she tried to convince us that we could just hitchhike to get there. Apparently, like in some horror movies, this is the preferred means of transportation for many people in Cortes Island, population 1,000. As we walked back to the boat, we were all thinking that an old fashioned country gathering with food harvested from a local, cooperative organic farm complete with live music sounded just too good to pass up. Too bad it was too far to walk. Just then, someone stopped and asked if we needed a ride. We asked if he was going to Harvestfest. Funny thing, he lives right next door to the farm, hop on in. Cue creepy music? We looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, and hopped in (don't do this in the U.S. boys). This was our very first time hitchhiking. Our driver's name was Danny. He was incredibly nice as he answered our questions with his cool BC accent (accents this far north sound a wee bit Scottish). When we asked if we should worry about finding a ride back, he said that we wouldn't have a problem at all and if we did, we should just knock on his door and he would drive us back. Wow. At Harvestfest we settled down to a big picnic table with plates of warm piroghies and veggie chili surrounded by locals curious about the strangers who had just showed up. Everyone was very nice and we ended up making friends with a woman named Melanie who is an artist and a sailor from Barbados. After we had our fill of apple pie and pumpkin tarts we headed down the road in the dusk hoping we would find a ride. It didn't take long for a truck to stop. We piled in the truck bed and he dumped us a mile or so down the road. Our next ride was the captain of the ferry who insisted on bringing us down to our harbor even though it was out of his way. Along the way he chuckled about his day at work, his first mate, the party they were going to and how he had the best job in the world. He was a very jovial fellow. The community here was so warm and welcoming, it was fun and extremely interesting to get a view into it.

The following day we kayaked into shore and found the lagoon at the bay empty at low tide. I have never seen so many oysters or sand dollars in my life. Huge pools of water were black from layers of sand dollars inhabiting them. The boys spent hours exploring the tidal area, Aaron on foot and Isaac using a combination of foot and kayak, where he got to run the tidal rapids with Jason. We spent the afternoon moving the boat through a narrow channel with petroglyphs on the cliff walls, to Gorge Harbor where we passed through huge clouds of moon jellies. Coincidentally, we bumped into Melanie on the docks since she keeps her boat in Gorge Harbor. We made plans for her bring her family over to meet us later that evening. When they arrived the boys taught their daughter Amber how to play Hearts and she taught them how to play Spoons while we sat and talked with Melanie and Adam. They have had such amazing experiences. It was really fun to hear about them and get to know them better. Some of Adam's stories were terrifying sea adventures that made everything we've done sound tame in comparison. True adventurers those two are. As they departed, they invited us over to coffee at their partly finished houseboat, partly finished second houseboat, and sailboat that are all rafted together in the harbor. The following morning they showed us around their amazing project while the kids built origami boats in preparation for a boat race. Thank you for such wonderful hospitality and memorable experiences. We look forward to seeing you again next year.

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