Port McNeill to Shearwater, British Columbia

Monday May 20 we spent in Port McNeill doing chores and frittering away the day. We hauled all of our dirty laundry a few blocks to the laundromat, and we walked to the grocery store, returning with more food and ice. It took several trips to the grocery to accomplish all of it. Some because it was too much to carry, and some because we forgot some items. The day was cloudy and cold with some light rain, and required a stop at a coffee shop to keep us going. We got together at a Japanese restaurant for dinner, and had the sort of Japanese food you might expect to find in a town of 2500 on northern Vancouver Island. The next leg of the journey is a major crossing of Queen Charlotte Strait. This is open ocean – everything to this point has been in sheltered waters east of Vancouver Island. We have been carefully monitoring the weather, and it is too rough out there at the moment, so we decided to spend another day in Port McNeill.

Jeanie, Broughton Strait, BC, May 2013

Tuesday continued cool and damp. We began the day with pastries at the nearby coffee shop, and then came up with more laundry to do and more groceries to buy. We also spent some money at the local marine chandlery, and generally continued to support the local economy at the hardware store, etc. Walked over to take a look at the “Largest Burl in the World,” sitting under a sheltering roof near the community center, and took a short hike up the hill behind town that was very muddy and redolent of skunk cabbage – very much a rain forest. Had a long, late drinking/snacking/planning meeting on the Elliotts’ boat.

Integrity, Pulteney Pt Lighthouse, Malcom Is, BC

Wednesday we sailed to Port Hardy, the northernmost town on Vancouver Island. There was a southeast wind, so it was a downwind sail. As the day progressed it became sunnier and warmer, and proved to be quite a nice day. After a few hours the wind died, and we motored on into town, getting slips at a nearly deserted marina. Tourist season really has not begun here yet. Jean did some sewing, and I spent two hours trying to repair our electric space heater. We can use this to heat the boat when we are docked at a marina and plugged into 110 volt electricity. After much effort on the repair I threw away all of the disassembled pieces, and walked the mile into town to buy a new one. The new one has a less elegant design and is noisy, but it does produce a lot of heat.

Pulteney Point Lighthouse, Malcom Island, BC

We encountered some friends of the Elliotts from Anacortes who are also headed to Alaska on their brand new power boat. We visited with them for a few hours, and then went out to dinner. The question facing us now, is when to leave for the crossing of Queen Charlotte Strait, and the rounding of Cape Caution. There is a wide divergence of opinion on what is suitable weather. That is, how hard the wind is blowing, and how high are the ocean swells and waves. Some of us are reasonably comfortable with somewhat challenging conditions, and others want to wait for millpond conditions. Obviously a compromise is required, but finding the right balance and maintaining our friendships is a delicate balance. Things have been improving today, and we may leave in the morning.

Fishing Boats, Port Hardy, BC

We all awoke at 5:00 and listened to the weather reports from lighthouses and automated ocean buoys. It still looked too rough, so we went back to bed. So Thursday was another day in Port Hardy. The town has a summer festival called Lofimi, which stands for logging, fishing and mining, the three economic mainstays of the town. Of course they have cut down most of the trees, in the process destroying much of the fish habitat, caught most of the remaining fish, and the ores are depleted with the mine shut down. The result is a small town that is familiar to anyone who has spent time in the Pacific Northwest; a town of empty storefronts struggling to transition to a tourist economy with limited success.

It was a cloudy, cool day spent doing miscellaneous errands around town. Jean managed to get in to see the only dentist in town for what fortunately turned out to be a minor problem. A larger problem involved some knitting she is doing for our grandson Rowan, and she managed to make a contact back in Ashland to help solve that issue. It was fun to watch the bald eagles at the marina. There were about a dozen of them; many were juveniles misbehaving in the way teen agers of any species seem to do.  In the evening our boat group meeting included Leonard, a retired fisherman from Haines, Alaska, who is single handedly returning home with a sailboat he bought in Seattle. He gave us hints of places to go, and provided some political insights into the people who brought us Sarah Palin. As a sample, Leonard is adamant that many of the problems with modern youth are the result of birth control. He was delighted to find that we had patronized his Laundromat when we were in Haines last summer, and we’ll try to look him up when we get there this summer.

Integrity, Queen Charlotte Sound, BC

Once again we awoke at 5:00 on Friday, confirmed that the conditions looked good, and left Port Hardy at 6:00, headed around Cape Caution. The wind and seas forecast may have been favorable, but the light rain was decidedly unwelcome. This was a trip of 53 nautical miles, about twice our average day, so we motored to make miles, even though there was some wind. As we continued west the ocean swells continued to increase, and by the time we reached Pine Island in the middle of Queen Charlotte Strait, they were uncomfortable – tossing us around a fair amount. For boaters whose experience has been in the sheltered waters of the Salish Sea this would probably be unnerving. Since we learned to sail our boat off the Oregon Coast, these conditions were familiar, and really not too bad. The rain was a much more annoying problem than the seas.

Fury Cove, BC

As we continued north, the seas became more regular and less of a bother. Shortly before passing Cape Caution at noon, the rain ceased, and the weather gradually improved with some sunshine appearing. Passing Smith Sound a nice northwest wind came up, and we were finally able to shut down the engine and had a great couple hours of sailing. Ten hours after leaving Port Hardy we were safely anchored off a beautiful white shell beach in a snug harbor called Fury Cove. This is on Penrose Island in Rivers Inlet. There were four other boats there, all of whom had just rounded Cape Caution. We went ashore to give Schooner some land time – this was not his favorite day of the trip. There were two other dogs there, including a 5-month puppy, and they tore around the beach at a furious pace – all obviously happy to be off of those boats.

Shells & Rock, Fury Cove, BC

We decided to spend another night at Fury Cove to recover from the early morning and trials of the previous day. Bruce and Elaine’s boat Freya is significantly smaller and lighter than ours or the Elliott’s, and they got knocked around pretty badly yesterday. This is a truly beautiful spot. The shell beaches are enormous. It is really hard to imagine how long people have been eating clams here to produce these beaches.

Fury Cove, BC

We went ashore in the morning to give Schooner his morning break and to collect firewood. We have a new wood stove on the boat that we need to figure out. It works well burning dried mill ends from home, but our boat is too small to carry very much firewood. So we need to start gathering our own wood on the beaches. There is a huge amount of wood available, but a 40 foot log three feet in diameter isn’t much use to us in our 4 x 6 inch stove. So we gathered various types of small wood and bark, sawing it into suitable sizes that we will try out and see what works best. We were pretty intent on this task, and then realized with dismay that the tide had come in several feet (the range today was 15 feet), and an inlet had appeared separating us from our dinghy. I removed my boots and waded thigh deep back to the dinghy. Jean was afraid that walking on all the clam shells would hurt my feet, but the water was so cold I couldn’t feel a thing.  

Monkey Flower, Fury Cove, BC

In the afternoon we put up the mast and sail on our dinghy, and sailed off for a three hour exploration of the countless islands and coves in the area. It was a beautiful warm sunny day to poke around in this completely deserted part of the world. We encountered a mink swimming across from one islet to another. When we started back to the boat the wind died, and we had to row back against the strong tidal current. Jean rowed first, and did a lot of work. Ten minutes after I took over the wind reappeared, and we sailed all the way home. Pretty good timing I thought.

Red Cedar, Fury Cove, BC

We motored out of Fury Cove on Sunday morning to find a light south wind in Fitz Hugh Sound. This gave us a chance to use our spinnaker. We have only used this sail 6 or 8 times, and are still learning about it. Today, after 20 minutes of connecting all of the various lines and bits we pulled the final line, and to our surprise and delight it opened right up without any fatal flaws. This is a complicated process, and the chance of getting the right line in the wrong place is high, so we felt pretty good about ourselves. Jean was especially pleased that she didn’t have to endure the profanity that I usually produce when it all goes poorly. Here we were sailing our colorful spinnaker north to Alaska on a beautiful sunny day; all was right with the world.

Schooner & Cedar Tree, Fury Cove, BC, May 2013

Namu, BC

The other unusual event was that we were able to continue this for four hours. We were sailing along about 4.5 knots, but the other two boats were rapidly leaving us behind. This is another source of tension in sailing with a group. We sail as much as we possibly can, and generally give up when our speed drops below 2 knots. Bruce and Elaine motor almost all the time, and have not yet raised their mainsail. They will unroll their jib if there is a good following wind, but their speed never drops below 5 knots. Monty and Lorna have a boat that is new to them, and is cutter rigged – something with which they have no experience. So they have been learning to sail this boat, with the result that they often fail to keep up when sailing, so have to motor. They also are more reluctant to sail in less than ideal conditions. They are however getting better quickly, so are usually ahead of us but behind Freya. So the question that arises is how important is it for us to be relatively close together for mutual support in case of some emergency. Is it OK to just agree where we are going, and we all arrive in our own good time, or not? Needless to say we don’t all agree. This is not a crisis, but it does complicate the day a bit.

Namu, BC

Our goal for the day was an abandoned salmon cannery at Namu. The famous Sea World killer whale was captured near here and named after the cannery. At its height there were 2000 people living and working here. Thirty years ago improvements in refrigeration and transportation made the cannery uneconomical. They closed it and walked away, leaving everything behind, including the goods in the company store, the cutlery in the café, the machine shop, etc. It has continued to crumble, and currently there is a couple, Pete and Reenie, who live there as caretakers. They have created a remarkable homestead out of the old place, and the deteriorating buildings are surrounded by amazing gardens. Reenie said to feel free to walk around on the wooden piers, but walk 20 feet apart, so if one person fell through the rotten wood, the other could save them.

A-Frame, Namu, BC

 There were two other boats there, and we all got together for a potluck dinner around a blazing fireplace made of a round buoy cut in half, and several oil drums all welded together. There was a humpback whale spouting in the bay as we ate. We took a tour of one of the couple’s classic old wooden powerboat, and listened to interesting stories from all involved. At 9:00 Ray got out his cannon, which Pete had made for him out of a piece of bronze propeller shaft, and fired it off twice. Certainly not your average vacation destination. Pete and Reenie’s homestead is all on floats. That is quite common up here. You lasso a bunch of huge logs, cable them all together, and cover it with boards. That gives you a platform on which you can build a house, a workshop, a picnic shelter, a garden, or whatever you like. When your life changes, you hook it all up to a tug and pull it to a new locale.  This is especially useful in this terrain, since there is virtually no level ground.

Namu, BC

Namu, BC

Sunset, Namu, BC

Monday turned out to be a nice day with a mix of sun and cloud, and lots of wind. The wind was from the north, the direction in which we were headed, so we spent most of the day tacking back and forth up Fisher Channel. The other two boats were not into such foolishness, and motored all day. The wind strength varied quite a bit, so we expended a lot energy reefing the sails (making them smaller), and removing the reefs when the wind eased off. It was fun, but tiring. The wind died when we entered Lama Passage, so we motored the rest of the way to Shearwater. The other boats, who were hours ahead of us, spent some time at the native village of Bella Bella, where they bought some shrimp from a fishing boat.

We encountered a lot of flotsam today. There all kinds of logs floating in the water, ranging from small sticks to logs 4 feet in diameter. You really don’t want to hit one of the big ones, so it takes some vigilance to avoid them. We have an autopilot that will steer the boat on a straight course, but you need to pay attention to avoid hitting a big log. Shearwater is an old World War II seaplane base that has been turned into a resort/marina/boatyard. It is the closest thing to civilization for 100 miles in any direction. We got fuel and a space at the dock. The man managing the dock had just arrived after a career of running an RV park in Alberta, and was less than clueless about boats or marinas. He generated a lot of frustrating confusion upon our arrival.

So we paid an enormous sum to stay at this dock which did not provide potable water, could not provide us with a suitable electrical outlet, put us on the windward side of a very busy place with boat wakes knocking us all about, and they had no block ice for our cooler. Wi-fi was available at $10 for 24 hours, but you had to buy that at the store, and the store was closed. So, that is why you did not receive this e-mail in a timely fashion. All in all I would not recommend Shearwater. On the other hand, we did have an excellent dinner of fresh halibut at the pub. I’ll send this the next time we get internet, but that may not be until Prince Rupert.