Dances with Duffel

  Or Circumnavigating Vancouver Island

  Or How I spent my summer vacation

by Ed Moye

Part 1: 7/16/00 to 7/26/00

7/16/00. We have been working toward this goal for several years, now it is at hand. The cruising guides suggest that 1 month is enough to make the passage. 5 years ago Dennis and I sailed the length of the Columbia River. That voyage was hurried and rushed leaving me with a feeling of having missed most of the things we came to see. As a result we decided to double the recommended cruising time for Vancouver Island in the hopes of a more relaxed voyage.

Computer entry. We have arrived at Anacortes to start our voyage around Vancouver Island. We had a relatively problem free trip up I- 5 to get here. After all the years we have come up here to cruise the Puget Sound and the Straits of Georgia, this town is starting to feel a bit like home. I know the way to the West Marine by heart. Safeway is a short walk from here. I know where we can get breakfast early in the morning. Like so many voyages of the last few years this one starts here in Cap Sante Marina, which has become our favored place to launch for cruising the San Juans. The difference is that this time we are not here for a week or two. We are looking at 2 months of sea time ahead of us. Life is a bitch.

Circumnavigating Vancouver Island is a bit of a stretch for a boat of Lacuna's diminutive size but the literature suggests that it is possible. Our plan is to be conservative in our passage making. Having as much time as we do will allow us the flexibility to wait out heavy weather. If we do get caught out in heavy weather, we have worked hard over the years to make Lacuna seaworthy. In fact I suspect that Lacuna is now the most tricked out Aquarius 23 in the world. Our list of boat tasks is still not finished but the end is in sight. This is nowhere as harebrained as our voyage of the Columbia River and we are confident of success.

Tonight we are sleeping in Lacuna on the trailer on the hard in the Cap Sante Marina long-term parking lot. Having completed the asphalt journey up Interstate 5 this is a fitting anchorage for our first night. Lacuna is poised amid the empty boat trailers that promise voyages to come and returns to be made. The air smells of salt water and Lacuna's crew has high expectations. Tomorrow we will buy last minute supplies, sling Lacuna into the water, and head north to Canada.

7/17/00

Log entry. 1515 We left the dock at Cap Sante Marina under a light breeze and a sunny sky. We hope to catch the tide headed north to Sucia Island where we plan to spend our last night in the United States for the next couple of months. We have spent much of the day packing, launching, truck stowing, and hardware buying. Lacuna riding is low in the water but she seems to hold all our gear quite handily. With “Money Point” (as we have dubbed the expensive real estate guarding the entrance to Guemes Channel) shrinking over the stern, we are off to round Vancouver Island.

Log entry. 1619 We are turning north in Bellingham Channel. Our hope is that we will get a 2 1/2 knot current boost in the channel. Lacuna has pushed hard against a strong current for the last hour as we motored out of Guemes Channel. Dennis estimates the current as high as 4 knots.

We just spotted our first Bald Eagle over the boom crutch. He looked to be almost mature. His head and tail plumage were white, but his wings were still stippled with the white markings of youth. In the past we have seen sea gulls hassling eagles with impunity in this area. On some voyages up the Puget Sound it was so common that it became a diagnostic indicator to determine if an unidentified bird was an eagle. Today we saw no sea gull in pursuit, but it was an eagle nonetheless.

Log entry. 1638 Rounding shoal off Guemes Island. Our GPS speed over ground is reading 9 knots!! I guess that means the current boost is kicking in. With our late start the added speed will be useful in making our anchorage at Sucia Island.

Log entry 1653 Still pushing 9 Knots past the northern point of Deepwater Bay

Log entry 1720 We just passed the Lady Washington. She lay at anchor off the northeast shore of Cypress Island. .

Log entry. We are now doing 10 knots as we turn west to run toward the north shore of Matia Island.

1915 Log entry. Entering Echo Bay on the northeast shore of Sucia Island. Our hope had been to anchor in Snoring Bay. Anchoring there previously had been so scenic. Sail Magazine listed Snoring Bay as one of the 10 most scenic anchorages on the west coast. However this is the height of boating season and there is little chance of finding anchorage there this late in the day. Echo Bay looks to be filled with boats, but we are hoping to find a place to drop the hook here.

1930 Log entry. Set the hook in shoal water in the north west part of Echo Bay. DT

7/18/00. Computer entry. The anchorage in Echo Bay was quite crowded and so we ended up anchoring in shoal water very close to the rocky north shore. Early in the morning I awoke to hear the sound of waves on rock close at hand. I climbed out into the cockpit to find the tide had dropped and several rocks between the shore and us had uncovered. Waves were crashing across them and then hitting the cliff on shore. The wind was blowing at 20 knots and was pushing us toward these newly emerged rocks. It was disquieting to see these black, wave washed rocks only 10 feet off the stern. It didn't help that the Waggoner cruising guide said to “expect some dragging” in this anchorage. I went below and grabbed my sleeping bag and brought it up to the cockpit to keep me warm while I did anchor watch. I then settled down to see how well our anchor was holding. I watched for about 45 minutes and was pleased to see that we were not getting any closer to those rocks.

Last night we bent our new “Riding Sail” on to the rear end of the boom for the first time. Lacuna has a tendency to swing wildly, sailing back and forth on the hook in this kind of breeze. We made this new sail out of the head of an old jib in the hope it would steady Lacuna at anchor. The small sail was clearly steadying Lacuna in an intimidating anchorage. I guess we can chalk that up as a good idea.

After I was sure we were not riding up on the rocks and that the tide is beginning to rise again I climbed back into the cabin to sleep a bit longer.

0910 Log entry. We weighed anchor and motored out of Echo Bay in 5 to 10 knots of wind and 30% overcast, headed for Bedwell Harbor. DT

0940 Log entry. We raised the jib and main and killed the motor. Still abeam of Sucia Island. Speed 6.5 knots DT

1030 Log entry. Rounded buoy 8 and set a course of 233 degrees. The sideways drift from the current was not as great as the current tables predicted. We ended up with a course that was too far north. DT

1135 Log entry. We dropped the sails (the wind died) and started motoring at 4 knots. We are getting a 1.5 knot current boost. DT

1230 Log entry. We landed in Bedwell Harbor to clear customs. As always there was lots of close quarter jockeying with other boats waiting to dock for customs. DT

Computer entry. After some extended jockeying about, in a small space, with several other boats, we finally got to tie up to the crowded Bedwell Harbor dock. I then walked up to the customs house and waited in line there.

There used to be a much larger dock but apparently a tour boat took it out in a bungled docking attempt. That happened last year and still they have yet to replace the mangled dock. This is a good part of why the small remaining dock is so crowded.

Lacuna was still on computer file from our Gulf Islands voyage of last year. The female customs officer was friendlier than the one I dealt with last year, which was surprising considering how busy the place was today. Due to a Canadian quarantine, we ended up having to throw away a few apples that we had bought the previous night in Anacortes. The officer informed me I could eat them if I wanted. Dennis and I ended up eating one apiece and dumping a few others. Next time no apples.

We left the customs dock and motored around to tie up at the adjoining resort dock. There we got showers, got ice cream, got ice, and I got an over priced beer. Having cleared Canadian Customs it felt like the circumnavigation had really started. There was a fair crowd of people at the resort. All told we were there for another hour or so.

Wanting to move on we then motored out of the confines of Bedwell Harbor and motored north, about 18 miles, through Plumper, Navy , and Trincomali Channels to Montague Harbor.

The Montague Harbor Marina had no slips available and we had to anchor in the bay. The anchorage was crowded and our first attempt was aborted when the hook took to long too grab and placed us in jeopardy of swinging into a near-by boat. We moved, for our second attempt, closer to the ferry dock and there the hook grabbed. Under a sunny sky we settled down to dinner. According to the guide books there are some interesting caves near the harbor. It also talks of the place as a good place to sea kayak. There is a sea kayak rental office up at the marina dock. However we are much too focused on our own voyage to want to stay around tomorrow to look these opportunities over.

7/19/00. Computer entry. In the morning we were surprised to find there was no one at the fuel dock. We were forced, with a couple of other boats, to wait for the place to open. There was a restaurant where we could have gotten a hot breakfast, but it was also closed. Dennis and I set about installing the blocks and lines for our preventer and our spinnaker downhauls while we waited for the fuel dock to open.

0830 Log entry. Left fuel dock at Montague Harbor. Picked up 13.6 liters of fuel. Sky is over cast with no wind. Calm night on the hook in another crowded harbor. Our plan is to power up to Porlier Pass for an 1130 transit. Expect to be bucking a light current most of the way there. Once through the pass we will head north in the Straits of Georgia. We will buck current there until 1500. We expect to make Nanimo or better tonight.(Nuttal Bay or French Creek) We will follow the shore to make the best of the current on our way to Porlier Pass.

1010 Log entry. Reduced speed so as to not arrive at Porlier Pass to soon. We are now making 3.1 knots over ground. Hope this will put us there at slack tide at 1140.

1100 Log entry. We are 0.7 miles from North Galliano Island. We are idling at 2.7 knots over ground. The sun is beginning to burn through the clouds. Interesting fauna in the area. Spotted one naked mermaid on the shore and 2 Eagles overhead in the last hour. Dennis reports the current is now carrying us.

1140 Log entry. Passing Virago Point Light as we transit Porlier Pass. Dennis reports the current is still running 2 knots against us. We will continue on this course until we've passed the Canoe Island Light on the east end of the pass. At that time we will alter our course to 315 degrees.

1205 Log entry. Made turn to 315 degrees toward Bath Island just off Gabriola Island. We hope to round the north end of Gabriola, which is 8 miles, in an hour and a half .

The water around us is very big now that we have entered the Straits of Georgia. There are more swells in the water as a result. The GPS says we are making a steady 5.5 knots over ground and the knot meter agrees with this.

1346. Log entry. Rounded the Flat Top Island group. Now headed toward Entrance Island off the north shore of Gabrolia Island. Entrance Island is still about 6 miles distant. We are currently making 5.5 knots over ground. Expect to clear the island around 1510.

1446. Log entry. Rounded Entrance Island Lighthouse. The sky is sunny and the wind is about 3 mph. Altering course toward French Creek.

1525 Log entry. The Pacific Cat, a catamaran ferry that runs to Nanimo, just cut us off. The Bozo went out of his way to cut across our course 100 yards just ahead of us. We had a solar cell lashed to the pulpit and so the hatch was dogged in the vent position. The cat left two huge wakes just ahead of Lacuna's bow. As we crossed the wakes at 5.5 knots Lacuna plunged down the backside of the first wake and buried the bow in the foot of the second. As the second wake rolled past, it swamped the foredeck sending a large amount of water through the open hatch. Half of my bed is soaked, as is a lot of gear we had stowed in the bow lockers. The asshole just had to pass us before he cut his turn into Nanimo placing his course directly across ours. He could just as easily have passed behind us. Where is my spud gun when we need it.

1700 Log entry. Changed course to 262 degrees toward French Creek Public Marina. This is the last protected anchorage before Deep Bay, many miles on.

1800 Log entry. We are 4.4 miles from French Creek and the seas are absolutely flat. The sky is clear with just a distant haze. Snow capped mountains are visible to the west on Vancouver Island and the east on the mainland.

1900 Log entry. Rafted up to a small sail boat in French Creek Marina. No one aboard the tied boat, so we tied to it. The harbor is very crowed, most docks are triple rafted.

Computer entry. We left Lacuna rafted at the crowded dock and walked up to the nearby marina business area, where we paid for our moorage. It was then a short walk to dinner in a restaurant that overlooked the marina, French Creek, and the Straits of Georgia beyond. It was an attractive building with a lot of plate glass. It was a good Italian meal and we both got pleasantly stuffed. There were also showers and needless to say we used them as well. I made a long call to Kathryn, who is flying up in two days. Despite the nearness of her arrival it was good to have a long talk.

7/20/00 Log entry. We took in 16.6 liters of gas at French Creek Fuel dock and left at 0837.

1033 Log entry. We're ready to get underway after a half hour of fooling with the motor. After refueling the vent cap on the tank wasn't opened. We slowed to look at some Indian canoes paddling past and the motor died. While trying to restart it Ed flooded it and it wouldn't start again. I pulled the plugs out and checked the spark, pulled the carb off, checked the float valve and jet. It finally started after I put new plugs in; the old ones were so gas logged that gas poured out of them when I turned them over.

We saw eight or nine Indian canoes with more than a dozen paddlers. It's a great day for it, calm warm, sunny. DT

Computer entry. There has been a steady stream of clouds blowing over the snowcapped peaks of Vancouver Island all afternoon as we motored north. Now much of the sky is overcast, subduing the afternoon's heat. Today we made 37 miles from French Creek.

We are 4 days into our voyage. Lacuna is tied to the public dock at Comox, British Columbia, where there is an active Coast Guard station that has a busy airport. Comox is an abbreviated version of a native name meaning abundance or plenty for the berries and game that was found here. The town center is near to the dock and town come right down to the waters edge. After days of frenetic activity I think it is beginning to feel like a real vacation.

As is usual in preparing for any such extended voyage there was a lot to get done as the last minute approached. Lists of food and gear to attend to. Tasks to finish up before leaving for 2 months. Good byes to say. Our last week was also complicated by the fact the Country Fair was the weekend before we left. We ran a couple of days beyond our first projected date for departure getting things finished.

We had planned this trip as the “No Stress over distance” voyage. The guidebooks said that a month was enough time to do the voyage with a little to spare for weather and sightseeing. So we planned for 2 months. This was an attempt to change the pressured nature of our last long voyage down the Columbia River. This voyage would be different. That was before Dennis and I underestimated the time needed to voyage to Campbell River, where we are to meet Kathryn. We envisaged a 3 day voyage from Anacortes to Campbell River. At this point we have completed 4 long days of steady passage making, and expect another day before we tie up at the Coast Marina in Campbell River.

We have had to motor steadily as we pushed north in the Inland Passage. I had prepared myself for the fact that this voyage would entail a lot of motoring, but this was not what I had in mind either. Yesterday was a very long day. We motored 50 + miles and this included waiting for a slack tide in the middle of the day. As a result of our underestimating the distance to Campbell River, each day there has been pressure to make more miles. This was not supposed to be the way things went on this vacation. Dennis and I should have looked a little closer at the charts before Kathryn bought her plane ticket. Not having done so we are committed to meeting her tomorrow eve in Campbell River. The good part is that I am really looking forward to having Kathryn share in this adventure. She is so partial to mountainous terrain this place should appeal to her despite the fact it is a boat trip. At this point we are only a day away from Campbell River and the pressure is finally letting off a bit.

Three days ago, making passage to Sucia Island, we noticed an oddly configured craft on the distant water. As it grew in size we realized it was in fact a Square Rigged ship of some size! Closer inspection revealed that it was in fact the Lady Washington, a copy of one of William Gray's ships. The Lady Washington was built in Grays Harbor Washington in the 1980s. I can remember traveling along the Washington coast during that time and reading a tourist brochure that talked about the building of this new wooden ship.

I also had read of the boat in my studies of the Columbia River. It sailed up the Oregon coast a couple of years ago with a lot of media attention. Dennis and I had in fact also heard some first hand stories about this ship as we began to explore the Columbia River. We were told a story about the Lady Washington making passage toward the Tri Cities, Washington. As she approached the mouth of the Snake River, the Kenniwick automated railroad drawbridge came crashing down into the ship's standing rigging. At the marina up river from the bridge the locals all laughed when they told us this tale. We also got a kick out of it as well because it was a great story. After all our studies about the river, this tidbit felt like we had scooped history. Two days ago as we motored past the same boat it seemed a good omen for our current voyage. Especially, considering that there are no railroad bridges anywhere nearby.

Besides the fact he discovered the Columbia River and became the first American to pilot a ship around the world with cargo, Gray also traded for Sea Otter pelts through out the San Juans and Vancouver Island. We are voyaging in the same waters he sailed all those years ago. Passing this replica of his ship was a wonderful glimpse of history. Today, we had another brush with B.C. history.

As we motored along the shore of Vancouver Island just above French Creek I spotted what looked to be several native canoes headed our way. Even at a distance it was clear that these were large boats paddled by many people. As it turned out there were 9 canoes, all of which were quite long and had the classic high standing native prow. Several were painted with Northwest totem motifs. After the first of these craft passed us I asked Dennis if he minded us shutting off the motor to watch the second one go by. After watching the unique craft stroke by, I managed to flood the motor attempting to restart it. It took a while to figure out what was up with the motor, leaving us dead center in the line that the entire flotilla was running. So though it looked bad for our engine for a while, it was a stirring experience to watch these ancient craft. The people in the boats were quite friendly. Most of the boats raised their paddles and banged them in unison on the gunnel in salute as they passed. There was chanting in some of these boats, especially on board a long (30 foot) black canoe with the name Elder Sprit painted on its raised prow.

I watched as the Elder Sprit approached. At first there was a single chant every 4 or so paddle strokes. Then the chant became more regular, the closer they got, until there was a chant every stroke and answering calls between strokes. This boat had a bunch of older natives in it and there was even one guy with a traditional conic basket hat. Elder Sprit and a second canoe passed to opposing sides of Lacuna cutting fast wakes in the still water. By this time the crews in both boats were chanting. As the chants diminished into the distance, the wakes they had left behind them finally hit Lacuna rocking her from side to side. Our heavy metal center board banged back and forth in its trunk like an answering drum. Ancient moments.

In contrast to the near mystical passage of the first boats, the last of the flotilla passed with in a much different style. Its hull was definitely constructed of fiberglass or some other such modern material. This boat was 25 or more feet long and it had the high prow. Two rows of people sat side by side paddling the craft in unison. On the gray hull there were professional graphics done in dark orange color. The boat had a stripe just below the gunnel and contained in this graphic was the word “Police”. The sight of this brought a cry from Dennis, who wanted to know if the police logo was for real. This got a guy in the rear of the boat to launch in to a comic banter through a cardboard megaphone. “ Why yes this is an R.C.M.P boat... Maybe we should board you and check for contraband beer”. A moment of Magic with its tongue firmly in its cheek

Comox is a great moorage. It is the first place that is not crowded. Upon our arrival we got dock space without any problem. Last night in French Creek marina docks boats were rafted up 3 boats. The previous night we were turned away from our intended moorage at Montague Harbor Marina. Instead we had to find a place to drop the hook just off the marina entrance and the ferry terminal in a congested anchorage. Our stay in Echo Bay was so crowded that we ended up on the hook 10 feet from the surf washed rocks.

Here in Comox there is a relaxed pace about things. There are people but not so many that you can't find a slip for the night. Just up from the dock, we had a great dinner overlooking the sound and the snow capped mountains on Vancouver Island. Here at the dock everyone seems to smile and say hello as they walk by Lacuna. There is a 36 foot boat tied up behind us and the guy who owns it came over to talk a bit earlier. He was curious where we were headed in our little boat. (Amid all the large cruising boats Lacuna stands out in the crowd.) As we spoke of our plans he immediately insisted that we had to stop at both Hot Springs Cove and at Robson Bight.

Hot Springs Cove is a place where boaters can land and enjoy hot water that is washed by the cold ocean from time to time. The guy was quite delighted with what a great place it was. He also told us not to miss the Killer Whales in Robson Bight. Both of these are places I have read and heard about for years. Soon we will be there.

We will also soon be done with powerhouse passage making. Not to say we expect to not use the motor, that just comes with the territory up here. But this exhausting drive to constantly make miles is trying. Once we reach Campbell River the voyage should be more relaxed

To the west now the clouds that have been racing over the snowy peaks are turning pink and purple as they revel in the sunset colors. Comox is wonderful. It reminds of the British Colombian town of Revelstoke with sail boats.

7/21/00

0945 Log entry. We left the dock under blue cloudless sky. The barometer is steady at 31 inches. We are leaving the port of Comox, which is much like an ocean side Revelstroke. Not so crowded as French Creek. Friendly people and good food. There are 2 marine supply stores. There is a beautiful view of snow capped mountains.

Computer entry. As we left Comox we passed several Coast Guard training boats. These were open gaff rigged sailboats. There were several people in each boat as they tacked in the light morning breezes. I wonder if they get much chance to actually sail these boats in anything but light fitful winds. Judging by our experience in the Inland Passage thus far, they might benefit by looking for a better place to train cadets about sailing.

1120 Log entry Rounded buoy “pj” and came about to course 295. Wind in the straits of Georgia is from the northwest at 10 knots. We are motoring at 5.6 knots into small wind waves. Small cumulus clouds are starting to form over the distant mountains. Very rugged terrain is visible to both the east and west of us. Many large snowfields are now visible. There is a steady procession of aircraft out of the Comox airfield. Several planes and one large twin rotor helicopter are doing “Touch and Go” landings. Dennis observed that this is probably one of the best training locations in Canada due to its warm dry climate and its proximity to the ocean.

1650 Log entry. We arrived at the Coast Marina. The Warfinger was waiting at the end of the dock to call out “Mr. Moye?” and to wave us into our waiting slip. Dennis sprinted for town in hopes of catching a bank to exchange his American currency. We just missed all the banks in Comox yesterday and today is Friday. I finished mooring Lacuna while he charged off in search of money. I am now seated in the shade of the boom, facing over Lacuna's stern. Beyond is a finger dock, a breakwater, and a vista of the jagged peaks of paradise

7/22/00 Log entry. We motored away from the Esso fuel dock at Campbell River after taking on 15 liters of fuel and 9 liters in the spare tank. Kathryn is aboard. She flew into Campbell River last night a 2100. She and Ed stayed at the Discovery Inn The day is mostly overcast with a 10 knot breeze. We're on a course of 135 degrees toward Cape Mudge. DT

1146 Log entry. After bucking a 3 to 5 knot current for 45 minutes, we did a U turn. DT

1208 Log entry. Tied up at the Coast Marina again. DT.

7/23/00 0620 Log entry. We left Coast Marina in calm air and 50 % overcast with a 3 knot current boost.

0715 We turned to 067 degrees when 2.4 miles south of Cape Mudge light headed toward Baker Passage. DT.

0905 Log entry. We motored around Spilsbury Pt, on Hernando Island, into Baker Passage. It's a gorgeous day as we enter Desolation Sound with glassy seas, bright sun, and tall snow capped mountains wreathed in clouds both ahead and astern. DT

1126 Log entry. Anchored in 6 meters of water in the northeast end of Grace Harbor. We are now 201 miles into the voyage. DT.

Computer entry. The voyage here to Grace Harbor was idyllic. We had a current boost when we left Campbell River, which proved much more effective than the current we tried to buck yesterday. Our passage today was across mirror calm water surrounded by towering mountains beneath a sunny blue sky.

After we arrived Dennis and I set about assembling the Folbot onboard Lacuna. Ted and I had done the same task tied up at our Fern Ridge slip a year ago, but this was the first real attempt to do so at anchor. It proved to be a daunting task since the Folbot is almost as long as Lacuna. Kathryn retreated to the bow to escape the effort, a marginally effective manuver. When you try to assemble a 17 foot boat on board a 23 foot boat with a mast and rigging in the way there is no safe haven. It took us 45 minutes of contortionist activities to finish the task. It is not a convenient operation. However once we had the boat assembled, we could explore Grace Harbor. There were a few boats in the harbor with us but for the most part it was a quiet anchorage.

The sun beat down on Lacuna all afternoon and it got sweltering onboard. Kathryn got dehydrated from it and ended up with a headache. Jumping in the ocean proved to be a effective escape for me.

Our original plan had been that Kathryn and I would take a kayak trip and meet Dennis and Lacuna at the end of a week of paddling. However Kathryn's period ended up arriving during her visit. Since this is Grizzly bear country the idea of camping on shore didn't seem such a good one. Fearing bear encounters, Cap and I stayed onboard for the night and Dennis slept on shore. There were 3 tent platforms built on the hill above the harbor. They had nice views and were not far from the water.

7/24/00

1130 Log entry. Hauled anchor under partially cloudy sky. Last night DT stayed on shore at one of three wood tent platforms on shore. There was also a pit toilet. At the head of our cove was a delightful surprise. A plastic pipe had been rigged from atop a small waterfall, so as to fill a bucket tied in a nearby tree branch. The bucket had holes bored in it's bottom making a serviceable showerhead. It was brisk, but refreshing. We all took advantage of the facilities with pleasure. The bay is full of Jelly Fish. Hundreds of 6 “, white, pulsating organisms rose and fell in the water about our anchorage. Headed toward Pendrell Sound on East Redonda Island. It is already hot.

1305 Log entry. Raised the Genoa on the whisker pole, and the main is guyed on a preventer. Our speed over ground is now 3.4 knots/ 3.2 knots through the water. We have a 6 knot wind and the sky is mostly clear. It is 75 degrees in the cabin. It is blissfully quiet without the motor. Only water music to mark our passage. We are now heading toward Prideaux Haven.

1500 Log entry. Dropped the sail at 1430 and powered into Prideaux Haven. The place was crawling with Big Money . We left in 10 minutes. Now we are heading into Roscoe Harbor.

1645. Log entry. After 3 tries we got the hook to hold with 30 feet of chain and 110 feet of nylon line. It is much prettier than last night in Grace Harbor. It is warm and we are preparing to paddle to shore in search of a landing. We have now sailed 219 miles.

7/25/00

Computer entry. Today we had a good day in Roscoe Harbor on west Redonda Island. The approach is through a narrow passage of shoal water. The cruising guide suggested most boats would benefit by waiting for a high tide to transit this entrance. Fortunately for us there was plenty of water over the shoals and with a cautious approach Lacuna was soon inside the protected harbor. Like most anchorages in the Desolation Sound area the harbor was crowded even though we arrived early in the day. It took us several attempts before the hook held and we could run a line to shore for a stern tie. Just after we finished anchoring a guy came out of his boat an told us we were anchored too close to his anchor. Then he looked again and decided that was not the case. Ahhh, the joys of a crowded anchorage. Despite this inconvenience we had a great day.

Roscoe Harbor was crowded enough that Cap and I felt safe camping on shore. So we paddled in and set up camp near the head of the bay. We even did a hike back into Black Lake that lay a short distance from the bay. But it never seemed like a good idea to get too far from Lacuna.

In the morning we were greeted by the unpleasant sight. The previous night, in the cove just below our camp a fiberglass boat had been moored by some people who hiked up to Black Lake. They hauled a canoe up the trail to be able to accomplish their plan. We talked to them on their way in and their plan was to spend the night on an island in the lake. They figured this would provide them with a real wilderness campground. I am sure the camp was pristine, but their selection of a site to moor their motorboat was less than desirable. With the morning low tide the fiberglass bow of the launch was lifted completely out of the water on top of a large boulder. It was the classic kind of scene that ends up in boating texts as an example of how not to moor your boat in tidewater. There was a painful groaning noise as they dragged the boat off its perch.

During our rest day in Roscoe Harbor Cap and I took off in the Folbot for the afternoon. The trip turned into a bit of an adventure involving an unexpected wind and a gauntlet of whitecaps. We paddled the Folbot a couple of miles over to East Redondo Island. It was quite the leisurely crossing surrounded by spectacular vistas of Desolation Sound. There were clouds in the distance, but they seemed to be mostly caught in the mountains to the east. Just another perfect day in a sunny paradise.

As we loafed along the rocky cliffs of East Redondo Island our perfect summers day was transformed by a building west wind. On our last supply stop in Anacortes, Dennis and I bought a hand held VHF radio. Our thinking was that this radio would be a real asset in a situation like this. However the radio proved to be faulty as soon as it came out of the box. Even a concerted application of Dennis' considerable electronics savvy proved unable to resurrect it. As a result Kathryn and I had no way to call Dennis and tell him what was up as the wind began to rise. This precluded our waiting out the blow or calling him to come get us. Not wanting to risk Dennis' worrying if we didn't get back to Lacuna on time, we set off across the open channel toward Roscoe Harbor. Our sunny summer day took on menacing aspect as 2 foot seas began breaking around us. As if this wasn't enough to get our attention, a rudder cable then pulled loose leaving us without a tiller! To keep the bow into the wind I had to make 10 left paddle strokes to every 1 right stroke. As you might expect this lopsided labor soon became fatiguing. Despite the sudden adversity the GPS reported that we made a steady 2+ knots against the wind all the way across the channel. Cap stood in and worked like a pro, which considering her fear of water was very impressive. Both of us were relieved to reach the protected waters at the mouth of Roscoe Harbor.

Later that afternoon, after our return to Lacuna, I got a chance to snorkel in Roscoe Harbor. It was a short swim since the water was so full of boats coming and going. It was hard to relax with the constant sound of whirling propellers filling the water around me. Despite this distraction the diving was beautiful. There was good visibility. About 10 feet down the water was thick with a dense layer of small Jelly Fish, about 6 inches at the largest. I repeatedly dove through these swarming creatures. It was hypnotic to swim through these clouds of undulant white parasols. We had seen similar jellyfish schools from the boat in Grace Harbor, but it was a real treat to swim through them.

In the Hatfield Aquarium in Newport Oregon there is a popular exhibit. Crowds of people always collect around this illuminated acrylic tank to marvel at the dozens of white Jelly Fish contained there. Swimming in Roscoe Harbor was a lot like snorkeling in just such a display only much bigger.

Beside the nagging reminder of propeller noise the water proved to be a bit cold without a wet suit so I didn't stay in long. However it did whet my appetite for more to the same.

7/26/00 Computer entry. After camping on shore again Cap and I broke camp and paddled to Lacuna early. It was a gray day with an intermittent drizzle. We broke camp and paddled out to Lacuna where we stowed our gear. Cap and I then paddled over to a small creek that empties into Roscoe Harbor's north shore. There we filtered several gallons of drinking water for the next few days.

1056 Log entry Weighed anchor

Computer entry. Today, after leaving our anchorage at Roscoe Harbor, we stopped at the town of Squirrel Cove on Cortes Island. It poured rain all the way there and we decided to have an early dinner in the local cafe. Eating in a dry room was a great break from a wet day. The place was quite friendly and the food was great. The waitress and the patrons joked with us adding to our enjoyment of the meal. Through the walls of plate glass there was a fantastic view or the Discovery Islands and our post meal offing to the north. There was also a good store and we replenished supplies there before returning to Lacuna.

After our meal we walked back to the dock where we had rafted Lacuna to the port side of a large aluminum oyster boat. Canadian law says that it is illegal to prevent anyone from rafting against a boat moored to a public dock. When we arrived at the public dock there was no open space to moor Lacuna so we made like the locals and rafted. Fortunately it didn't look like the oyster boat had been away from the dock in a while. Even though the law says rafting is legal I am always a bit worried that we will inconvenience the boat owner whose craft Lacuna is tied to. Fortunately when we got back to the dock there wasn't an angry boat owner waiting for us.

We motored away from the Squirrel Cove dock into a southeast wind and soon set sail. It was a great feeling shutting off the outboard. Shortly thereafter we hit 6 1/2 knots running down wind on a broad reach. Lacuna did start to show a slight tendency toward broaching at that speed, but that is no surprise considering the 3 people and all the adjoining gear aboard. Though the strongest winds happened right after we left the dock, we ended up sailing about 5 hours. First we ran down wind in Lewis Channel, a narrow slot in the mountainous islands that reminded me of the Columbia River Gorge. Through the rain and mist the heavily forested shores of the channel raced by. Up the steep hillsides sheer rock cliffs appeared and disappeared through ever changing banks of mist and fog. As we rounded the north point of Cortes Island and headed south, our down wind ride became an up wind beat amongst groups of low islands and islets. The sound of wind and water was constant. A pleasant break from the Honda mainsail. It was powerhouse sailing, putting miles under the keel.

The unfortunate part of all that sailing was that it never stopped raining. Kathryn has been aboard for the last 5 days. She had enjoyed the voyage while it was sunny but this storm was trying for her. Lacuna is a small space for 3 people to live in. With gear for a 2 month voyage it is especially cramped. Staying below meant Kathryn could avoid of the rain. But there was a down side.

Navigation is a space hungry task, especially if the hatch is closed to keep the rain out. The chart board is 2 foot by 3 foot. You might have to use more than one chart. There are books, notes, and tools to spread out and use. The rolling moment of the boat tends to spread this loose stuff over and even wider area. You have to be able to read the GPS. Finally you must move in and out of the cabin to communicate information with the Helmsman. On a rainy day this requires enough room to take you rain gear on and off without getting nav gear all wet. You have to also have an out of the way place to hang all the wet gear while you do the navigation. The largest portion of Lacuna's cabin is about 5 feet high, 6 feet wide and 5 feet long. Navigation easily consumes most of this confined area.

When Kathryn went below she found Dennis engaged in the tasks of navigation. Not wanting to impose on Dennis' space, Kathryn retreated to the hard deck in the forecastle. Amid the shifting cargo boxes she huddled as Lacuna pounded on. She felt sick and damp and bored with what was a rough passage.

I on the other hand had been out in the cockpit with a steady tail wind pushing our heavily loaded craft beyond hull speed. The wind in the rig was loud and there was the steady pounding of rain. My Gortex dry suit kept me warm. The adrenaline of feeling my ship come to life under sail kept me focused on piloting Lacuna. Besides, there has been so little sailing on this trip that this afternoon almost tripled our total sailing hours.

After an hour or so at the helm I came below and found Kathryn amid the dunnage. A dark gray cloud hovered low over the spot where she huddled on the cold wet plywood. Obviously some things had to change. I dug around in the gear pile and found a sleeping pad and some warm clothes for her. Then I shoved the piles of dunnage around until there was a enough space for her to lie down comfortably. This helped a bit but still I am sure this will not be one of her favorite days of sailing.

We arrived at our current anchorage late in the evening to find a small cove well back in Von Donop inlet. There we dropped the hook for the night. Despite the fact that another boat later anchored in the same cove, this was a real improvement of the crowded anchorages of the last few days. Kathryn's ordeal aside, I think I am going to like the Discovery Islands

2118. Log entry. At Anchor near the salt lagoon in Van Donop Inlet. It was too wet today to keep record in this log. It rained steadily all day today, at times heavily. But we had good wind and some excellent sailing for almost 5 hours. We sailed to Squirrel Cove on Cortes Island, got ice, supplies, and had a wonderful lunch at Cafe Suzanne. Fresh salad green, tasty sandwiches, good chowder, and delicious desserts. We sailed in Lewis Channel, around Bullock Point and south in Sutil Channel to Von Donop Inlet, a narrow, well protected channel. It's still raining DT.

Duffel chapter 2

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