Leg 2, Liz McLoughlin and Tom Hall
From Vancouver, BC, to Port McNeill
June 2 - July 1, 2005

Thursday, June 2 - 8 (Pelican B ay Marina, Vancouver; at the dock). June 2, boat chores and exploring Granville Island. June 3, walking to the Science World museum and seeing the IMAX film about rafting 3000+ miles down the Blue Nile to the Mediterranean. June 4, by ferry to the Maritime Museum; walking back to Granville Island and attending the play Sheer Madness in the evening. June 5, via the ferry and skytrain to the Convention Center and the IMAX theater (Wild Alaska, and African Safari); it rained most of the day. June 6, Sun and clouds. bicycle trip to Stanley Park and Coal Harbor. June 7, Rental car, visiting an outdoor gear store and marine supply; laundry; getting Liz at airport (oh Joy!); and early to bed (Liz rose at 2 AM Massachusetts PDT). June 8, monster shopping at Safeway (though the bill works out to about Cn$15/person for the three-week trip to Port Hardy), returning the rental car, getting our No. 1 laptop to work with electronic navigation charts, and working on updating the Leg 1 log. (The laptop and sailmail satellite connection didn’t work for Tom but with Liz again on board, it acknowledged its mistress and behaved properly.) June 9, uploading Leg #1 to the website, checking 16 land-line emails, making telephone calls to near and dear, stocking up on veggies at the Granville I. Public Market, and a taking good walk along the south shore of False Creek.

Friday, June 10 (False Creek, Vancouver, to Smuggler’s Cove (Marine Park), near Pender Harbour; 5.6 hours, 36.8 miles). Up at 5:10 AM to catch the flood tide up the Strait of Georgia; we were the only boat in motion as we passed under the dual bridges over Granville Island at 5:45. One hour out we followed an extended radio exchange between the Coast Guard and an inter-island ferry that had discovered a body in a wetsuit. Apparently the man had been scuba diving with friends several days earlier, by signs they had all agreed to come up but when the friends surfaced, he was nowhere to be found. With lat/long coordinates and the ferry staying nearby the C.G. soon had a fast boat underway to retrieve the body. We sadly reflected that while only one person was lost, and his travail was now over, his demise would likely have a major impact on the lives of family, friends and co-workers. – At 11 we entered Smuggler’s Cove, so named for the smugglers of alcohol, goods and illegal immigrants who used this intricate two-part cove to avoid the authorities. On this, our second visit, the lack of a crowded cove made it unnecessary to use a stern tie. Soon the kayaks were down and we had a fine afternoon making a complete tour of the inlet, visiting with the crew on the ‘Freedom’ sailboat Pilgrim, and reacquainting ourselves with the delights of kayak travel at low tide. After supper we again took to the kayaks for a high tide tour, now visiting spots that were earlier out of water. We were pleased to get quite close to a Merganser duck before he laboriously took to the air. A great location.

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Saturday, June 11 (Smuggler’s Cove to Egmont Marina Resort; 3.3 hours, 21.0 miles). Again, intermittent rain and low clouds. A smooth trip north, past Pender Harbour. We followed a “Mayday” exchange on the VHF, a power catamaran with two “souls on board” that was taking on water from an unknown source off Nelson Rock near Quarry Bay, a few miles from our location. The Coast Guard got the particulars, identified several nearby boats who were directed to the scene, and sent is own fast boat and perhaps a helicopter to the rescue. In due course, it became clear that, although the boat was still taking on water, its occupants wanted a tow rather than a rescue; the Coast Guard response boat took over and “Mayday” was terminated. We never learned the extent of the problem and suspect the crew may have overreacted to their problem. We arrived at Egmont Marina, several miles short of Schelt Rapids, one of the fastest in the world, and tied up at the float. After checking out the store and facilities and some very wet sea kayakers huddling under a porch we took a mile walk to the hamlet of Egmont, with its public dock, boats and more amply stocked store. A boat was unloading heavy flats of prawns for the overnight tank truck trip to Vancouver. Back at the marina we met David and Jo Demars of Helena, MT, cruising these waters in their 22' C-Dory, Spirit. They had read William Least Heat Moon’s acclaimed book, River Horse, in which he describes his 5000-mile boat trip across the USA from NYC to the Oregon coast, and decided to buy the same kind of boat. We had read that book several seasons earlier and it is a great tale. Though nominally dissimilar in occupation and activities we found we had much in common with the Demars, and spent a delightful two hours over drinks, cheese and popcorn comparing notes and views. After our chat we went to the marina’s restaurant and split one of their famous “Skookemchuck” burgers, the name derived from the Indian name for the nearby rapids, followed by a quiet night in the intermittent rain.

Sunday, June 12 (Egmont to Princess Luisa Inlet, Macdonald Island; 8.8 hours, 43.1 miles). A cloudy day with occasional weak sunlight peeking through the clouds. Morning showers, breakfast and an 8:20 departure after four other boats. Though this would bring us almost four hours too early to transit Malibu Rapids we were bit by the bug to get underway. We arrived at the rapids at 12:30 along with several other boats waiting slack tide and for the balance of the afternoon we alternately drifted, exercised our small Yanmar get-home engine, and made a slow excursion almost to the end of Jervis Inlet. Overlooking the rapids was a large and attractive resort building, now serving as a summer Christian Youth Camp. Soon after our arrival a large steamer arrived to disgorge a seemingly endless number of youth (~180) and take on a similar number for the return trip south, the periodic changing of the guard. As slack approached we got in line and were number three in the small parade through the rapids, headed by only 1-2 knots of waning ebb. Inside the mountains rose precipitously, the inlet narrowed, and the previously slight wind all but ceased. We cruised the five miles to the public float but finding it full we returned two miles to pick up a public mooring behind Macdonald Island. We launched a kayak and Liz paddled over to a nearby dock mooring the two skiffs we had seen carrying luggage away from the steamer and through the rapids. A young woman, water-proofing her hiking boots, said that this was the mountaineering arm of the Youth Camp. A counselor for the previous two summers, she was there for two weeks to train the new camp counselors who had arrived today on the steamer.

Monday, June 13 (Macdonald Isl. to dock at Princess Luisa Inlet, Chatterbox Falls; 0.4 hours, 1.8 miles). A quiet night with intermittent light rain which persisted through the day. We tied up at the Chatterbox Falls public dock at 8:50 after a short 20-minute cruise from our anchorage. A glorious location! Near sheer mountains rising several thousand feet above the inlet, depths approaching 1000 feet, long, wispy waterfalls on every hand, and the ever present sound of massive 120-foot Chatterbox Falls near the dock. We hiked to the falls, kayaked along the shore in both directions, chatted with other cruisers, and hosted a libation-hour get-together with Mike and Sandra (Bailey’s Pride, a 26' Tollycraft that transported their dog, Bailey, to lovely locations) and Phil and Sharon (Pilgrim, a ~40' sailboat). Later in the day a megayacht flying a Cayman Islands flag joined the assemblage, now completely filling the long wharf and spilling over into the small anchorage in front of the falls. With depths to 1000 feet the only feasible anchoring locations were either at the falls where some sand had accumulated, or anchoring very close to the steep shore and using a stern tie to the numerous ring bolts set in the rocks. The falls anchorage was difficult, however, and during our stay two boats had spent several hours trying to get a good anchor set. A premium location, a quiet night, and thank heavens we visited during mid-June, before the crazy months of the peak summer season.

Tuesday, June 14 (Princess Luisa Inlet to Sturt Bay, Texada Island; 8.2 hours, 55.8 miles). Up at 6:10 and a fine exit via Malibu Rapids at 7:15 with almost no current. We checked the speed in calm waters and no wind: with rpms at 1300, 5.7 knots; 1400, 6.2; 1500, 6.6; 1600, our normal cruising rpm, 6.8 knots. Our trip down Jervis Inlet was aided by 0.5 to 0.9 knots of ebb. Very few boats, a moderate number of clearcuts. At Malaspina Strait we saw several barge full of sawdust. We arrived at a substantially improved Sturt Bay marina at 2:45, in time for a leisurely stroll around the adjacent town of Van Anda. Texada Island, 31 by 6 miles in size, has a resident population of about 1200, mostly in two towns near the north end. Over the years the main industry has been mining, with gold, copper, iron and limestone predominating. Three limestone quarries, several forestry and agricultural companies, and diverse small businesses constitute the present economy. We visited the sole hotel and learned that though the population is reasonably stable the number of students has declined substantially and with declining enrolments, grades are being eliminated and increasingly students are having to do a daily ferry commute to Powell River for their education. We bought a few groceries, admired the lovely gardens, checked out heavy equipment (largely abandoned), and enjoyed the more practical and downscale (in terms of boat size and elegance) ambience of the marina. After a no-holds-barred battle with a multitude of mosquitoes in our cabin, we had a quiet night.

Wednesday, June 15 (Sturt Bay to Copeland Islands Marine Park, near Lund; 2.9 hours, 18.3 miles). A lovely day with a light following breeze. We stopped at Lund, changed a primary fuel filter on the engine and bought a gallon of diesel fuel for use in topping off the Racor filter at the time of changing. Tom has a 10 micron primary filter instead of the more usual 30 micon filter, which puts less filtering load on the fine mesh secondary filter on the engine; the downside is more frequent filter changes. We then went two miles to the southernmost indentation at the marine park, dropped anchor and launched the kayaks for a substantial low tide trip around one of the larger islands. On the return we met two women kayakers, one (Heather) who was a knowledgeable ‘birder’ and also a recent author of a book on sea kayaking from Desolation Sound to Vancouver. She solved a mystery about small diving birds that we frequently saw but could identify in our bird book. They were Marbeled Murrelets, living in old growth trees near the coast but feeding in the ocean. Small, brown, nondescript, fast but reluctant (and poor) flyers, always found in pairs, they apparently nest in moss festooned trees where they can ‘crash land’ with webfeet that are ill-adapted to grasping onto branches. After our kayak trips we feasted on pork chops, green beans and salad, ready for our encounter with the many mosquitoes that had managed to invade our cabin. We did a heroic battle, killed about 20 of them, and then shut our eyes and ears to the occasional drone of the few remaining ones who had escaped our wrath.

Thursday, June 16 (Copeland Islands to Grace Harbour, Desolation Sound; 1.5 hours, 9.4 miles). A quiet night with clouds followed by sun in the morning. Liz made a long kayak trip around most of the islands to the north, later joined by Tom for a trip to the south end and back. After lunch we put the kayaks in the stern section, raised anchor and made the short trip to Grace Harbour, arriving at 3:30 and anchoring in the company of five other boats. We launched the kayaks, Liz circumnavigated the basin and Tom was more directed, checking out several other boats. After a spaghetti and salad dinner we again took to the kayaks and had a nice conversation about cruising and health care with two BC family physicians on a 36' chartered Grand Banks. Another quiet night, with glassy water at dusk.

Friday, June 17 (Grace Harbour to Tenedos Bay, Desolation Sound; 1.5 hours, 9.7 miles). Light on-and-off again rain which then misted to a stop. We made the short trip to Tenedos and anchored near the island about half a mile from the trail to the lake. We were later joined by two sailboats and a large converted tug. Kayaks down and we spent a good part of the afternoon exploring the area and circumnavigating the nearby island. Liz spent 90 minutes on shore taking macro pictures of rocks, lichens, oyster shells, and vegetation all within a 20-yard radius. The images are great, if we do say so ourselves, and easily rival the ‘big picture’ island, mountain, forest and marine life views that we normally take in our travels. Rain started after our supper of fish and rice in a mushroom soup sauce, and salad. Alas, the kayak seats will be wet but then water on the backside only bothers Tom.

Saturday, June 18 (Tenedos Bay to Laura Cove, Desolation Sound; 1.0 hour, 6.3 miles). Lots of rain during the night though it gradually eased and stopped in the morning. We made the short trip to Laura Cove, arriving at dead low tide with an impressive array of rocks visible. Kayaks launched and then a long and lovely paddle through Prideaux Haven to Melanie Cove, returning via the outer side of the islands. We saw once again the location were our longtime New Zealand friend, George Salmond, encounted his first flying eagle while on a kayak sojourn near sunset. He was so overcome by having an eagle overhead that he overturned. Liz had taken a picture of him just before this memorable event and it now graces his home in Wellington, a great reminder of the Salmond family cruise and of his swim immediately after the picture was taken. (We had a nice email exchange with him after re-visiting his “special spot.”) Lunch at 12:30, Tom finished Clinton’s My Life, while Liz took to the kayak. Tom later joined her with a trip back to Melanie Cove, this time near high tide. We talked briefly with our new friends on Pilgrim and Bailey’s Pride. The kayak excursions were wonderful, clear water, many small indentations to explore, lots of marine life and exuberant forest vegetation coming down to the water’s edge. Liz took lots of pictures of the mirrored images at the low tide line and used these to create a kaleidoscope picture puzzle for our website. By mid-afternoon there were lots of additional boats in Prideaux and Melanie but only one more to Laura Cove. We enjoyed a fish, potatoes, peas and salad dinner and had a quiet, rain-free night.

Sunday, June 19 (Laura Cove to Big Bay, Stuart Isl. via Yuculta Rapids; 5.0 hours, 31.2 miles). High clouds and light winds all day; no rain. Up anchor at 10:36 for a low rpm (1500) leisurely cruise timed to reach Yuculta Rapids well before the slack. We encountered few other boats until the antechamber of Yuculta. With time on our hands we took a short one mile sojourn into Hole-in-the-Wall passage to check it out. At last, when several sailboats started the transit against the waning flood we took to the rapids an hour before slack. With a boost from the Stuart Island back-eddy, we reached the main current and cruised through – no problem. Big Bay is undergoing major changes. Its full service dock and marina (noted in the 2005 Waggoner’s Guide) was purchased this spring by the Seattle-based truck builder, Paccar, and fuel, food and water are no longer available to cruisers. The local community seems sparse, as evidenced by few houses with lights on, and three float planes tied to a dock. However, we were informed that the community has plans to re-open and improve the yachting and fishing facilities, and the renovated public dock was tangible evidence of a good start. Bill Gates has a place near Arran Rapids and folks have sighted his boat in the area. Near the public dock was moored a large barge dormitory for workers engaged in expanding a large resort (to 180 rooms) on the other side of the bay. A tall crane of the type seen in cities loomed over the expanding resort and its dock hosted several large yachts. It’s pricey - a daily rate of $1500 per person. Clients can indulge all their fancies, including fishing, massage, pedicure, manicure, hair styling, gourmet eating, and other diversions. Can such a resort fill 180 rooms at a premium price and will the short summer season be enough to cover the high annual costs? Only time will tell. Before supper we had nice chats with a Oregon State professor on the motorsailer, Outer Marker, and with the Toronto-based crews of three small sloops. We capped our evening with a walk to both ends of a little used dirt road, providing a first hand view of the deteriorated state of the buildings and facilities. Back to Onward for a quiet night at the dock.

Monday, June 20 (Big Bay to Port Harvey, near Johnstone Strait; 8.8 hours, 54.3 miles). Off the dock at 8:34 with a wave to our new friends and in time to catch the last hour of the ebb through Gillard Passage and fearsome Dent Rapids. At times we reached 9.9 knots and had our share of swirlies but all too soon the ebb turned to flood and for the rest of the day we were bucking the current. We elected to take Mayne Passage out to Johnstone Strait rather than wait 4 extra hours to transit Greene Point Rapids and Chancellor Channel, and thus avoid some 10 miles of Johnstone. The now flooding tide cost us 1-2 knots of speed despite an extra 200 rpm (1800 instead of our usual 1600). We passed Ripple Shoals and Hardwicke Island at the peak of the flood, bringing our speed down to 2.3 knots and requiring hand steering to keep our autopilot from going bananas in the swirling currents. About this time we passed a Nordhavn 40 going in the opposite direction. Hailed by radio, it was the Northstream, hull #39 built in 2002, headed back from Sitka. The tidal flood gradually changed to ebb and the afternoon winds were light so we decided to go an extra 10 miles beyond our original destination, Port Neville, and instead try out Port Harvey. A nice choice! We found a quiet, protected location in the lee of Mist Island, half way up the inlet and well short of an active logging operation on the opposite shore. At 5:10 we dropped the anchor and with a long day behind us we resisted our temptation to lower the kayaks, instead electing for a quiet dinner, reading and peaceful night.

Tuesday, June 21 (Port Harvey to Port McNeill; 4.3 hours, 33.3 miles). Up at 5, underway at 5:11 to catch the waning ebb tide for the long trip ahead. By the time we reached Johnstone Strait we had the radar on. The morning fog remained with us until Port McNeill, at times with <100 yards of visibility but most of the time more like a quarter to half a mile. Our trip was blessed with no wind and a 1-2 knot boost from the tide. We trailed a crab boat for a good part of the way and were trailed by the Canadian Navy’s Corvette #706, at times slightly faster, at times slower, and then finally it pulled ahead and diverged to the north. We were slotted into wharf G, with lots of hands to receive us. Within an hour the sun broke through and provided us with a lovely, though windy, day thereafter. The rest of the day was a near blur: the bank, post office, “Just Art” (for Liz’s delectation), internet access at the tourist bureau, laundry (where we had an extended conversation with the couple on Wahoo), liquor store, grocery, marine store, boat cleaning, emptying trash, filling water tanks, engine checks, a Chinese dinner, telephone calls, a nod to the lovely sunset, and lastly, showers.

Wednesday, June 22 (Port McNeill to Blunden Harbour; 3.6 hours, 25.1 miles). With strong NW winds forecast and the last of the ebb tide to catch we rose early and left the dock at 5:45. The trip across Queen Charlotte Sound was uneventful except for kelp patches and some tidal swirls at the west end of Malcolm Island, and the ebb gave us a nice boost. The wind increased significantly and was gusting to over 20 by the time we anchored in Blunden Harbour at 9:30. There were two sailboats and two power boats already anchored but with lots of swinging room in a shallow bay we set the anchor well on a 6:1 scope. The balance of the day was sunny and quite cool, but with winds so strong, we didn’t lower the kayaks. Liz spent most of the day creating pages for the website; when Tom finished his current Audible.com book (Lake Woebegon Summer by Garrison Keillor) and could procrastinate no longer, he worked on bringing the log up to date.

Thursday, June 23 (Blunden Harbour to Allison Harbour, near Schooner Channel; 3.1 hours, 18.6 miles) Morning sun and then high clouds. We had a nice two-hour kayak paddle, with Liz making it up to the start of the tidal falls and lagoon. We left at 11:18 against a moderate headwind and flood tide for the three-hour trip along the coast, bouncing along into the swells. We talked with a Grand Banks, Stock Aid, that was marginally faster and on the same course as us, though their destination was quite a bit further. Up to the head of Allison Harbour, anchor down, afternoon reading, a fine salmon dinner, and then out in the kayaks for a paddle up the inlet until we bottomed out at the by now, low tide. Old growth forest, trees seemingly growing out of rocks, clear water, lots of starfish, a very peaceful scene. We arrived back on board almost at dusk, in time to avoid a very light rain and for a quiet night protected from all weather.

Friday, June 24 (Allison Harbour to Summers Bay, Alison Sound; 5.1 hours, 31.0 miles). At last, the day Tom has been fearing for five years, ever since he heard of Nakwakto Rapids. We awoke to light rain, heavy mist and a dead calm.
We raised the kayaks at 11 and were underway at 11:33, timed to arrive at the rapids at least 30 minutes before the predicted 1:08 slack. Down Allison Harbour, up narrow Schooner Channel (that can have currents to 5 knots) and into small Cougar Inlet to crank up our courage, assess the situation and wait for slack. We put the prop in neutral and drifted for a few minutes until we saw a small fishing trawler pass by the inlet and head directly to the rapids. If that boat can do it, so can we, so we put Onward in gear, started up the Yanmar backup engine, just in case, and headed out into the current. We arrived in time to catch the end of the ebb, experienced a few big whirlies which changed our heading up to 90 degrees but otherwise had no problem. Diminutive Turret Island (dubbed “Tremble Island” due to the supposed vibrations felt when the spring tides are in full flow) sat in the middle of the rapids and was festooned with plaques with the names of intrepid boats that transited this spot. The only way to put one’s plaque on the island is to land there by high speed dinghy during a slack and then wait six hours until the next slack lets one leave the island. Through the rapids we turned west up Seymour Inlet, then east to enter Belize Inlet, and finally north through a narrow channel to enter Alison Sound. This is fjord country and except for the occasional logging site and a rare crab boat, no other signs of humanity. High mountains, very steep cliffs, some waterfalls, small (4') tidal range and no waves, it makes for fine cruising. We were concerned about entering Alison Sound via the narrows and Obstruction Island since tidal flows can reach 3-4 knots but the current was laminar and we had no problem. Our three-mile cruise to Summers Bay took us past Peet Bay, a nice anchoring spot, and Chief Nollis Bay. Our anchorage was deep (100') and the bay was open to a 10-knot wind across a two-mile fetch but with 300' of heavy chain down and a good anchor set we had no problem. Hamburgers, peas and salad capped a fine day.

Saturday, June 25 (Summers Bay to Strachan Bay, SW Cove; 3.3 hours, 21.6 miles). The previous evening wind dropped to dead calm and we had a quiet night, leisurely rising and several hours of reading. At 11:03 we were underway and after a brief check of Peet Bay, originally intended for our second night, we proceeded through the narrows out into Belize Inlet. Peet’s was nice but nothing special and certainly no interesting places to explore by kayak. Also, there were massive clearcuts higher up in the mountains, and though partially re-planted, it was still an eye-sore. Where Alison Sound joins Belize Inlet, we found the pictographs described in the Douglass’ guidebook, and stopped to admire the native artist’s skill. About 10' above high water, they depicted a square-rigged ship, three longboats filled with oarsmen, one of whom had a rifle in his hands, and an orca whale. (See picture on the website.) Anthropologists believe this commemorates an 1868 attack by natives on the trading vessel Thornton after one of the Hudson Bay Co. men raped a native woman. In retaliation, a British gunboat cannonaded the native settlement at Village Cove and killed a number of the inhabitants – another sad chapter in the relations between native and European populations. At 2:24 we dropped anchor in a small cove at the SW end of Strachan Bay, totally protected from wind and wave. A short time later a man visited us in his large workboat and invited us to visit him and his friend Charlie. We launched the dinghy and motored past a large log boom the half-mile distance to their floathouses. It was the start of a wonderful visit with Charlie Chilson, resident in this bay since his parents brought him here in 1943, and Roy (“Buck”) Wellings, who helped Charlie with a chore eight years ago and has stayed with him ever since. Their floating “community” was impressive; besides their separate small houses there was a shop, a shed for their gasoline generator, a large shed in the process of being dismantled, a 20+ foot fast cruiser, a large workboat with a new 115 hp Honda outboard, a wooden trawler that has seen better days, several skiffs, and two large and reasonably friendly yellow dogs, Montana and Lady. They provided us with drinks, chairs, a guest book to sign, and for two hours regaled us with Rapids war stories and tales of the past and present. With Nakwakto Rapids standing guard Charlie and Buck have few yacht visitors each summer and except for the occasional re-supply or doctor trip to Port Hardy, rarely leave the inlet. Over the years they have operated a rotating library of books left by visitors so at their invitation we checked their collection, returned to Onward to select books we could give them as compensation for the three books we choose from their boxes. We exchanged addresses, took pictures of the four of us, said warm goodbyes, and headed back to Onward for a fine supper of noodles and prawns, the latter a parting gift from Buck, and a quiet night. One of Charlie’s books soon had Tom immersed in an improbable but provocative novel, that of the trial before an international tribunal of Adolph Hitler, surfacing from his small town anonymity 25 years after the collapse of Germany.

Sunday, June 26 (Strachan Bay to Charlotte Bay, off Seymour Inlet; 2,7 hours, 18.1 miles). We awoke to low clouds and light rain, which persisted through the morning, a great time for reading and working on our logs. Liz is immersed in Ashes to Ashes, a history of the cigarette industry, and Tom, in a book entitled When Genius Failed about the rise and disastrous fall (in 1998) of the hedge fund, Long Term Capital Management. Designed in part on the researches of two Nobel winning economists, the bond fund was to essentially eliminate major market risks and for three short years was the darling of the world financial community. But, with the partners’ investments leveraged up to 30-fold and at the end, 50-fold, and markets falling worldwide after the Russian government defaulted on its loans, the house of cards collapsed in a hurry. Quite a tale of greed, arrogance, hubris, and unjustified confidence in models, formulae and the random behavior of markets. The rain tapered off, the clouds rose and occasionally revealed a weak sun, so time to raise the dinghy and get underway. We exited via a detour to wave goodbye to Buck and Charlie and then headed back toward Nakwakto Rapids, aided by the last of the ebb tide. We crossed the point were the rapids enters Seymour Inlet a half hour after the start of the flood and even at this early phase of the tide were impressed with the swirls. Another five miles to spacious Charlotte Bay, with good protection and several small islands waiting to be explored. The otherwise attractive location was marred by a number of clearcuts, some quite recent, and little evidence of any remaining old growth forests. Liz cooked a supper of beets, potatoes and pork while Tom read the epilogue of our first “meal book” (Tom reads while Liz cooks; Liz reads while Tom does the dishes) of the year, The Big House. The book is a beautifully written, evocative biography of the 19-room Cape Cod house that was the summer home of the author and his many WASP and proper Bostonian relatives and ancestors since 1903. Since both of us are wrestling with somewhat similar dilemmas about what to do with parental properties which hold many dear memories but don’t fit in with current realities, this book has stimulated much discussion during the past several weeks of readings. We delight in reading to each other and are currently using two books, one during meals and the other while cruising (period articles, letters and extracts that describe different aspects of the 1849 California Gold Rush). After supper Liz completed the epilogue, so we are now ready to take on another of Bishop John Shelby Spong’s books, this time, Living in Sin. With book and supper cleanup complete, Liz took to a kayak while Tom worked on the log.

Monday, June 27 (Charlotte Bay to Nugent Sound Cove; 1.1 hours, 7.8 miles). A sunny morning for a change and dead calm. We had a leisurely rising, banana pancakes and a time to read. We then took to the kayaks for 1.5 hours of checking out the multiple islands at high tide and paddling to the head of the bay and its very shallow mudflat. Tom collected twig specimens to take back to the tree book (he now is fairly proficient at identifying the three mainstays of forest, fir, spruce and cedar) but was unable to identify the shrubs; another book to buy. High tide in this whole complex of fjords is quite different from that found outside of Nakwakto Rapids. The tidal range is only about four feet, not 10-15' as it is outside, and the absence of significant wave action means that shore vegetation doesn’t get splashed and thus killed. The result: at high tide there is only a 2-3" gap between the water and the dense tree limbs, and the limbs are almost always green rather than the mix of green and dead limbs you see outside due to the effects of exceptionally high tides and waves. Quite a striking view. After lunch we put the kayaks into the afterdeck rather than raising them up to their normal position on the pilothouse roof and set off for nearby Nugent Sound Cove. Our short trip was enlivened by Living in Sin. Nugent Sound is very attractive and relatively less afflicted by clearcuts. It is long, narrow, has high and steep mountains on both sides, and there are a number of small islands four miles into it. We tucked into a natural cove with several islands guarding our flanks, and then took to our books until yardarm (libation and popcorn) time. After supper we took to the kayaks again for an hour and then ended the day working on our writing projects.

Tuesday, June 28 (Nugent Sound Cove to Miles Inlet, on Branham Island; 1.6 hours, 9.7 miles). Up at 7, up anchor at 7:54, timed to put us at Nakwakto about 10 minutes before the 8:53 turn-to-flood slack. We arrived on schedule and were pleased to go through the rapids on glassy water with few swirlies; a piece of cake! No other boats and a nice trip down Schooner Travel with a small tidal boost despite it being time for the ebb. We took the shortcut channel around the south end of Branham Island with admiring looks to the fine kayak areas to either side, Murray Labyrinth to port and Skull Cove to starboard; some other time this would be a great area to explore. Out into Queen Charlotte Strait and the ever present rollers for a bit until we entered Miles Inlet, one of the best anchorages around. Shaped like a “T”, with a narrow entrance base 0.4 miles long that then branches 0.2 miles to either side where one can anchor. Extending beyond these arms there are plenty of shallow waterways that can be explored by kayak. We entered the inlets before 10, followed by a 46' powerboat, Megabyte, and both anchored in the northern arm with shore ties to make best use of the limited space. Miles Inlet is one of the premier kayak areas in BC so down came the kayaks and for the rest of the day we explored all feasible nooks and crannies, with trips at low, mid- and high tide, interspersed with reading. Tom was especially entranced, and frustrated, by a very complex bird song that seemed to follow him wherever he went but he could never see, and hence identify the songster. As usual, Tom’s gaze was upward, to the trees, while Liz’s was downward, to the marine life. We had nice chats with KP and Michael Brack on the 32' Bayliner, Sea Shanti, also kayak explorers. Both arms of the inlet had reversing tidal falls and the northern one led to a large lagoon. When we arrived there was a noisy two-foot waterfall with water emptying from the lagoon even while the tide in inlet was rising. Later, with the water now entering the lagoon we passed over the narrows but soon decided, prudently to exit the lagoon. As the outer tide rose the inflow to the large lagoon became a torrent and we would have been hard-pressed to exit. After a spaghetti and salad dinner we made our final kayak tour. Aided by high tide we were able to make short forays through vary shallow and narrow passes to small tidal lagoons extending out from the southern arm of Miles Inlet. Back near dusk we put on the genset, raised the kayaks, and read for a bit until the 10 PM sacktime. Light rain falling on the soon lulled us to sleep.

Wednesday, June 29 (Miles Inlet to Walker Group Cove; 2.1 hours, 12.4 miles) Up with the alarm at 7 and underway at 7:15 to minimize the waning ebb tide and avoid the usual afternoon winds. Sea Shanti had already left and we were only minutes behind Megabyte. Out into Queen Charlotte Sound for a short trip south, rolling along with a residual quartering sea and most of it in the fog. The Walker Group of islands, extending some three miles in a NW-SE direction, have only one feasible anchorage area at a point where a channel goes right through the islands with a widened area at mid-channel. At our one previous visit, in 2000, we had to squeeze in with some four other boats, using a shore tie to keep us from swinging into others. This time there was a large public mooring buoy and a 36' sloop attached. After making a short circuit checking the depths and looking for a good location the couple on the sloop invited us to raft with them; they would be leaving Miles Inlet as soon as the fog burned off. So, raft we did and an hour later they departed. We launched the kayaks at low tide and went nearby to where a large portion of the cove was now out of water, although very squishy underfoot. We took an extended walk in the sticky mud, at times threatening to remove our shoes or keep us mired. The barnacles were huge, 1-2 inches long and an inch wide, and the various beached tree trunks provided their usual fantastical root configurations, at times with rocks held in tight grip, and exuberant vegetation sprouting from the nurse logs. The tide reversed and we went to a cove, allowing the kayaks to gradually be swept more inshore as the tide lifted us off the bottom. A light rain started so back to Onward and our computers for the balance of the afternoon. Tom finished his book about Adolph Hitler, while Liz continues to beaver through the massive Ashes to Ashes, on the tobacco industry. Tom’s other books, to keep him cheered up about the world, include Jared Diamond’s latest, Collapse, about the various forces and decisions that lead societies to collapse, Lester Brown’s Outgrowing the Earth, and Tinderbox, on US Middle Easy policy and the roots of terrorism. What a dumb way to spend a vacation.

Thursday, June 30 (Walker Group Cove to Sointula, on Malcolm Island; 4.0 hours, 27.5 miles). Up at 6 and underway at 6:18, and out into Queen Charlotte Sound. Our early departure gained a flood tide boost for most of our four-hour trip. Half a knot boost doesn’t sound much but at our average of 6.8 knots, it shortens the trip by ~40 minutes compared with opposing the tide. Our entire trip was in a dead calm, with only gentle swells – a most unusual situation. We tied up in Sointula, less than five miles from Port McNeill. Sointula, meaning “place of harmony” in Finnish, is a town with character and history. A small number of Finnish born coal miners working in the Nanaimo, BC, coal mines sought to found a socialist Utopia where, as noted in the publicity brochure, “...property was communal, everyone shared, and everyone participate and everyone was equal.” They recruited a charismatic Finnish journalist, then working to found a Utopia (which never materialized) in Australia, as their “leader”. After a search for a suitable location and negotiation with the BC government for a land grant to build a community in return for certain commitments, in 1901 they settled on Malcolm Island. Within four years the effort had failed and the community was bankrupt due to back luck, bad planning, hostile creditors, uncertain markets, bad leadership, and members whose skills (farming, mining, crafts and intellectual pursuits) were not those that were originally required (fishing, logging, building). The leader resigned and went on to try his hand at yet another utopian community, most early settlers left, but some stayed on and the community grew and its economy gradually diversified. Logging and fishing were the initial industries but now both occupations are much reduced due to excessive exploitation and subsequent regulation. Tourism, seasonal and retired residents, the arts and other small enterprises are gradually taking up the slack. Fiercely independent, the town struggles with such questions as whether to incorporate or not (so far, NO!), what kind of development to favor, how to retain the “right” kind of inhabitants, and so on. As for yachties, the town now has a nice marina with more working boats than pleasure boats. We walked 2 kms. to the town, spending about an hour at the recently expanded and very interesting museum. On our 2002 visit we spent several hours working our way through photo albums, correspondence and contemporary articles about the town found it fascinating. The founders were never able to realize the “ideal” community of their dreams but they accomplished much. Perhaps half of the town has Finnish roots and Finnish traditions are still evident on holidays and in other ways. After a lunch at the café and bakery overlooking the ferry terminal we visited a small store nearby and were amazed to find a picture of Onward in a new book (Full Moon, Flood Tide: Bill Proctor’s Raincoast) about the Broughton Islands. Written by a long-time fisherman of the area, Bill Proctor, and Yvonne Maximchuk, we assume they came across a prize photo of us, taken unbeknownst to us at the time, by a professional photographer when we were admiring a massive waterfall in Tribune Channel near Kwatsi Bay. Back at the marina we worked on our website, had a nice talk with the wharfinger lady, and shared our BC cruising information with Norm and Nicki Billsborough on Kodiak, a large sports fishing yacht hailing from Seward, Alaska. At dusk we wandered over to the south floats and ended our day with a delightful long chat with Jon Taylor, a long-time fisherman and resident of Sointula, including a visit to his 40' troller, Open Sea II, where he showed us his gear and shared tips on fishing. Liz capped the day by cleaning four fish she had acquired earlier in the day, now in the freezer awaiting a future meal.

Friday, July 1 (Sointula to Port McNeill; 0.8 hours, 4.8 miles). Cloudy with intermittent rain and occasional bits of blue sky, a good day for chores. We made use of the fine laundry and showers and then set off for the short trip to Port McNeill where we were reassigned dock G. The balance of the day was spent with log editing, boat and those shore chores possible on the national holiday, Canada Day, which celebrates the country’s acquisition in 1867 of Dominion Status and an independent government.

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