Leg 6, Liz McLoughlin and Tom Hall Tuesday, July 20 (Queen Charlotte City at marina). A day of intermittent sun, lots more chores, and some R&R. Liz spent the morning working on our website, Tom went to the Visitor Centre and in an hour’s discussion with Carolyn Hesseltine, manager of the Centre, learned much about the challenge of promoting eco- and town-friendly tourism. Carolyn had moved to the islands only a few years back from eastern Canada, seeking the tranquility of a small community lifestyle. With the decline of logging and fishing, and the consequent loss of jobs, the Charlottes were hoping to promote tourism while avoiding some of the pitfalls. A case in point is the Gwaii Haanas reserve. Pocket cruise ships (50-120 passengers) would love to visit it but since they are self-contained they contribute little to the local economy and put great pressure on the best landing spots, now limited to no more than 12 persons at a time. Local guided tour companies keep the visitor numbers down but most companies are not locally owned and with time-limited itineraries, they all tend to visit the best sites. Additional problems are ensuring adequate ferry capacity for cars so that land-based tourists can be accommodated and having well developed tourist facilities that are in use only 3-4 months a year. Enough reflections on the problems of diversifying an economy while preserving the island lifestyle! During the afternoon Liz updated our website, followed by showers at a QCC motel and a fine chat with Angie and Larry Hunter, just returning to Canada after six years of cruising on their 38' cutter, Tao 8, in the Caribbean, Hawaii and beyond. Talk of the cruising lifestyle brought back many fine memories of time spent on our own 38' cutter, Alter Ego, when we sailed from Seattle to New Zealand in 1984. Our last excursion was back to the Visitor Centre to watch a half-hour dance show by Haida children. With elaborate costumes, a front row seat on our Crazy Creek chairs on the floor, lots of drumming and singing, and about 15 children ranging in age from the teens down to a rather confused 3 year old, it was a great show. Back to the boat for supper and an early bedtime in anticipation of an early departure for the mainland. Wednesday, July 21 (Queen Charlotte City to Keswar Inlet, McCauley Island; 10.5 hours, 72.0 miles). We left the QCC dock at 6:12 AM on the latter half of the ebb tide under cloudy skies and with calm waters. Out Skidegate entrance, north along Graham Island via the shallow channel and then east at the ferry range markers to cross Hecate Strait. By the afternoon we had a clear sky, light breeze and a quartering three-foot swell; we spend most of the time on the foredeck, entertained twice by a pod of Dall porpoises playing in our bow wave. About two-thirds of the way across we encountered a long stretch of perhaps 10 miles in which we played “dodge’m” with hundreds of brightly color coded crab pots, set in lines. These were not present in our outbound trip so there may have been an “opener” on commercial crab fishing. At 4:42 we dropped anchor in picturesque Keswar Inlet and were soon joined by three small gillnetter fishing boats, two of which rafted together. After snapper and eggplant ragu we spent some time with the Douglass books planning future stops along the Outer Passage and enjoying a spectacular sunset. Thursday, July 22 (Keswar Inlet to Ire Inlet, Anger Island; 3.5 hours, 24.2 miles). A superb weather day, from start to finish; not a cloud in the sky, light breezes and gentle swells from the northwest, warm and no flies. By evening the barometer had dropped 4 mb and was predicting rain but no signs of high clouds as yet. We left at 8:30, catching the southbound ebb tide for an extra knot of speed down Principe Channel, much of the time spent sunning ourselves on the foredeck with the sun sparkling on the water. At noon, just after slack, we entered very, very cautiously through narrow Ire Inlet into a narrow, rock and islet studded mile-long basin. (We wonder what is the story behind the names, Ire Inlet and Anger Island.) This inlet has deservedly high praise in the Douglass guidebook and a sidebar recounting a sobering incident of the 52' sloop, Mithrandir. While passing through the narrows against a current and with 20 knots of wind the skipper had difficulty maneuvering between a rock on one side and a horizontal tree on the other. The result: with steering difficult the tree caught the handlebars of an on-deck bicycle and soon thereafter, the backstay. The boat was now stopped and with the flooding current they were in danger of being driven onto the rock. After much labor with a small saw and machete they were able to free themselves with no harm to the crew but significant damage to stays, dodger, stanchions and other equipment. Their bad luck was our good fortune; the dangerous tree was now neatly sawed off close to shore. After lunch we launched the kayaks and had a fine two-hour circumnavigation of the inlet. There was a small reversing fall lagoon at the far end and several small islets absolutely packed with trees seemingly growing out of the rock. The shoreline was predominantly old growth cedar, the many silver snags poking up through the otherwise green forest. Steep hills surrounded the inlet and a small mountain, largely bare of trees, graced the western end. Our kayak travels took us through large patches of small Lion’s Mane jellyfish, trailing their long, toxic tentacles and smaller numbers of two other jellyfish, the Moon and the Water Jelly. Back to our waterborne home reading and a chicken and veggie goulash dinner a great day! Friday, July 23 (Ire Inlet to Dunn Passage/Weinburg Inlet, Campania Island; 4.2 hours, 30.0 miles). Despite a continued drop in the barometer (from 1021 to 1017 mb) and a prediction of rain we had another absolutely perfect day, a repeat of yesterday. Up anchor at 6:10 AM, through the narrows on the start of the ebb, SW for a mile, a turn to port and then SE via Principe Channel to Napean Sound, past Otter Channel that leads over to the inner Inside Passage, into Estevan Sound and then Dunn Passage. Weinburg Inlet is really a maze of islets, small islands and numerous indentations. We went almost to the end of the main inlet, anchored at 10:20 AM and, as you by now might expect, took to our kayaks. The horse flies were much in evidence so we put our screens up but for some reason they didn’t bother us at all in the kayaks. The tide was by now almost dead low so lots of marine life to view. We even saw a close hand what was likely a mink (or possibly a marten). It was scouting out the seaweed midway between the low and high water levels and seemed as interested in us as we in it. After several minutes of looking a first one kayak and then the other, from a distance of only 20 feet, it ambled up the steep slope and entered the woods. As at our previous anchorage the inlet was surrounded by old growth forest with cedar very prominent. One side had low (50') cliffs and in most spots the shore was quite steep-to. After lunch Liz went for another, longer kayak trip, checking out several more inlets and only returning at the point she was uncertain as to whether she could find her way back in the maze. Next time she’ll take a compass. Tom divided his time between a snooze and more reading in Bill Bryson’s fascinating book, A Short History of Almost Everything. Another perfect day. Saturday, July 24 (Weinburg Inlet to Cowards Cove, Kitasu Bay; 6.3 hours, 47.5 miles). We awoke to a fine day and with a long trip ahead, raised anchor at 6:50 AM for the cruise south via Estevan Sound and Laredo Channel to Laredo Sound. With 20-25 knots of following wind and a south flowing ebb we made a fast trip, though with a somewhat quartering three-foot sea the autopilot was hard pressed keeping us on precise course. We yawed up to 20 degrees to each side after a try at hand steering Tom decided the A/P could do it better, and with a lot less effort. We passed the northbound Canadian Coast Guard vessel, Gordon Reid, and had a royal bounce from its massive wake and later on exchanged pleasantries with the northbound cutter, Songline, the first pleasure craft we had seen in days. During our passage we finished Bishop Spong’s book, Rescuing the Bible from Fudamentalism, a very thought-provoking read. Our destination, Cowards Cove, is several miles south of Meyer’s Passage, a long, narrow and challenging way of passing between Princess Royal and Swindle Islands. We elected to stay at Cowards Cove since if we had bad weather we could take the longer Meyers Passage route rather than via Laredo Sound, which is open to Hecate Strait and the Pacific. We anchored at 1:05, had lunch, lowered the kayaks, explored the entire cove, including the small reversing falls joining a large lagoon to the cove, where we photographed sea life in shallow, fast-moving water. Our location was surrounded by old growth forest, cedars predominated along the shores, there were lots of weathered snags and trees leaning over the water, several rocky islets sprouted trees that had presumably made their own soil. We returned to the falls, and had a half hour “meditation” time there. Tom headed back to Onward, but Liz stayed until 6:45 PM to watch the water surge through the falls, then slow as the lagoon filled to level water. Who know why this enchanting place was given its coward name but for us, it was a gem. Sunday, July 25 (Cowards Cove to Shearwater/Bella Bella; 7.2 hours, 49.8 miles). Up at 6:30 AM to kayak the falls, but alas, the lower high tide of the day was not sufficient to permit us to cross the saddle. Our trip south via Laredo Sound around the bottom of Price Island and into Seaforth Channel went well, rolling downwind on 3- to 4-foot swells. We took a short cut around Price Island, passing just north of McInnes Island and its well maintained lighthouse. The bent trees, high cliffs on the ocean side and the elaborate cable system for off-loading supplies gave testimony to the winter winds that must hit this outpost. A mile short of Shearwater we encountered a Nordhavn 46' heading out and had a radio chat with the new owners. We tied up to the fishing lodge dock, now used for overflow since all the regular dock space was full. After checking in and paying our moorage we wandered around the marina, awed by the great amount of improvements made since our visit a year ago. There is a new fishing dock float and facilities, new laundry and showers and many other improvements in the yard. The vacant log yard no longer provided the entertainment of the sort we had a year ago watching the skills of the logger who operated the machine for moving logs from sea to land and vice versa. During our wanderings we were delighted to see again Didier and Carole Cuvele, who now work at Shearwater and live on their Downeaster 38 cutter, Equinox II. The Downeaster 38, a rare sight in these waters, is the same kind of boat that we sailed in to New Zealand in 1984. We had met the Cuveles in 2003 when much to our great surprise they and another couple on a Downeaster 38 sailed into the marine park where we were anchored. We had a great tour of their boat, re-living old memories and admiring their many improvements with space utilization, and then reciprocated later on when they came to visit Onward. After further wanderings around the marina and greeting friends from previous years on Dev’S Courage, Mist Approach and Emerald Sea we had a fine dinner at a resort’s shoreside restaurant. Monday, July 26 (Shearwater to “Bombproof Anchorage,” McNaughton Group Islands; 3.3 hours, 22.6 miles). Up at 6:30 AM, showers and laundry after 7. Rumor had it that Brian Illston on Mist Approach would like to take Liz up on her offer to help get his new ICOM weather fax equipment working, so off she went to his boat, with Tom following shortly thereafter. (Brian is a former airline captain. His boat’s name refers to what planes do they haven’t seen the airport at the time they reach the minimum authorized altitude; in the “missed approach” procedure they climb up again to a holding fix. His dinghy is Wave Off, which is the procedure used on aircraft carriers when the incoming plane is determined to not be in an acceptable position. We enjoy seeing this boat names that incorporate other aspects of their owners lives.) We spent several hours on the task and though Brian made progress, no weather faxes came through. We returned to Onward to discover they had been looking for us to move our boat; a supply vessel was waiting in the harbor. So, off to the fuel dock where we took on 800 liters of diesel, just in case, plus 6 gallons of engine oil & outboard engine gas, and then anchored off the breakwater boom since the docks were full. After lunch we went by dinghy to the dock for grocery shopping and to pick up our now full propane tank. The store had been closed all morning while they stocked the weekly arrival of supplies. We raised anchor at 3:18 PM for the trip via Lama and Hunter Passages and then an eight-mile outside excursion in a lumpy sea to what the Douglass have called Bombproof Anchorage, “bombproof” because it is protected from wind and wave in any direction. This was our third visit to a narrow E-W pass between two islands of the McNaughton Group. The western entrance has a large rock in the center that blocks waves but not views out to the Pacific. Part way into the quarter-mile long passage it widens out, providing room for several boats. We arrived at 6:30 and anchored with the location to ourselves. Since it was almost high tide, not a good time for kayak explorations, we opted for dinner in these lovely surroundings, followed by a quiet night protected from winds in any direction. Tuesday, July 27 (“Bombproof Anchorage” to Fury Cove/Schooner Retreat; 5.9 hours, 40.2 miles). Another lovely day. With a relatively high tide in the morning there was no point in using the kayaks; all the interesting marine life is best seen at low tide. So, up anchor at 9:40 AM, round the point where 5 small fishing boats were already trying their luck, and south along the wild coast and open Pacific. The steep rocky shores, breaking waves, bent trees and very high waterline gave evidence of the power of winter storms. We entered Hakai Strait, turned east at Pruth, the site of a fine fishing lodge we had visited in previous years, and then south via Fitz Hugh Channel to Fury Cove. We anchored in the company of six other yachts, launched our kayaks and went for a two-hour grand tour of the cove, a circumnavigation of a small island facing the channel, and then to an adjacent, larger cove. Ideal weather for kayaking, near low tide, lots of nooks and crannies, marine life and trees along the shore to explore. Back to Onward for an early bedtime in anticipation of a long day tomorrow, crossing Queen Charlotte Strait. Wednesday, July 28 (Fury Cove to Winter Harbour, Vancouver Island; 11.7 hours, 86.1 miles). Up at 5:15 AM, underway at 5:27, and a long day ahead! We idled out of Fury Cove in a dead calm with clear skies, making as little noise as possible to not disturb the other boats. We had a beautiful dawn a half-hour later and soon thereafter were bouncing around in a moderately lumpy sea. Several hours after leaving we encountered thick fog and gradually a NW wind rose to 15-22 knots. The fog was intermittent and at times it was thin but total duration on radar was at least four hours. During the morning the Coast Guard gave repeated calls asking if any boat could help a fishing boat near Robson Bight (in Johnstone Strait) that had lost its propeller, not a happy situation. We were 100 miles away and in no position to help. Our route from Fury Cove directly to Cape Scott, at the top of Vancouver Island, took us across the much more heavily traveled Port Hardy - Fitz Hugh Channel crossing so we encountered only several boats during the day. One was on a collision course in dense fog when we spotted him at 3 miles. We were about to change our course at a bit under a mile but he “blinked” first and we were glad to see him change course. We never saw him except by radar. The other boat was a large, rigid inflatable with several high powered outboards that crossed our bow several hundred yards out going 25-30 knots. Most disconcerting; even at close range our high quality radar couldn’t see him. Fortunately the fog was relatively thin so presumably he could see us in time. Our crossing was helped with the predominant south-flowing ebb current and by the time we rounded Cape Scott we were cruising down current, down wave and down wind in high style. Several miles before making the turn at Quatsino Lighthouse into Forward Inlet we saw a lone kayak, rolling the seas and with a small sail raised in the 20+ knots of following wind. Quite a challenge to keep upright in such situations but he seemed in no distress so on we went. Once behind the bluff we were in smooth waters and light winds for a nice six-mile cruise up the inlet to Winter Harbour. We tied up at the public wharf behind the 45' Canadian sloop, Mystique II, and later had a fine chat with their crew, Dal Bryant and Leanne Letson. We went ashore, made the rounds of the store and various wharves, and were visited by the harbormaster who collected the fee for the night. Thursday, July 29 (At the dock, Winter Harbour). Another fine day! After a pancake breakfast we lowered the flotilla and with the dinghy bracketed by the two kayaks, we motored 1.5 miles up to a small island, anchored the dinghy, and then set out for a two-hour, high tide paddle a mile short of the end of Forward Inlet. Kayak travel is always a treat but this was a special one. Around and between small islands, clear water, marine life, overhanging trees, and a very special small stream bordered by massive spruce and hemlock and littered with deadfalls that are now entering their next life as nurse logs. We paddled upstream for a short distance until blocked by deadfalls and then drifted slowly downstream, awed by immediate environment but saddened and angered by the more distant reality of massive clearcuts and logging roads on steep slopes, the sounds and sights of logging machinery. Some of the 60-70 degree slopes had been logged up to the ridge line 1000 feet and more above us. Though patches of new growth were evident they were marred by the ugly scars of mud slides that were now converted into avalanche slopes. A few mature trees had been left on some of the ridges but in the absence of thick clusters of trees they are all too vulnerable to blowdown from the strong winter winds. We understand that much of Vancouver Island, especially the more remote and less accessible (to the general public) west coast and interior, has been subject to extensive logging. Tom has been reading several books on the history of logging in British Columbia and the picture is not pretty. Most forests are on public lands, timber has been a leading industry for years, forest-related legislation gives priority to economic considerations, and political considerations are ever present. Sadly much of the logging is carried out by foreign companies, especially those in the US, Japan and New Zealand. Forestry products are essential and logging will have to be done but the gap between present practices and what could be done to guarantee ecologically sustainable forests remains wide. Our trip by dinghy back to Onward brought us a fine surprise. Tom spotted a large flock of birds on the water, Liz looked and opined that they were not birds but instead a reef we had avoided on the way up. We were both wrong; it was a pack, pod, herd or whatever of sea otters, all very curious about our approach. The first group had at least 20, many head and shoulders above the water to watch us. We slowed to a crawl and were able to get within several hundred feet before they dove. We passed a another group of 6-8 otters and then several loners. Sea otters had been eliminated from BC in the early 1900s and some Alaskan otters were introduced in the 1960s and now the numbers are slowly climbing. Their consumption of sea urchins helps keep this predator in check to the benefit of other, commercially valuable sea life. The wind rose significantly in the afternoon so we delayed raising the flotilla until the evening. Our afternoon was spent washing parts of the boat, begging a salmon from a very generous fishing charter boat owner, and then watching the off-loading and cleaning of the sporting fish catch of the day. Later we watched the weighing of different types of live fish that were then transferred into a water truck for the overnight transport to Vancouver and its many Chinatown restaurants. Live fish earn a major price premium. An official from the fisheries department was there to monitor the catch input data that would help determine next year’s allowable catch. We took a evening stroll along the 0.7-mile waterfront boardwalk, well made with heavy wood piers and railings along one or both sides depending on the need. It went past a number of abandoned houses, well on their way to being reabsorbed into the forest. |