Or Circumnavigating Vancouver Island
Or How I spent my summer vacation
by Ed Moye
Part 6: September 4-13, 2000
9/4/00
1320 Log entry. We're motoring up Pipestem Inlet after having stopped for water and a bath at Cataract creek. The day is warm, sunny, mostly clear, and calm. DT
1620 Log entry. We're anchored in Turtle Bay (“Joe's Bay”) after another excellent day of passage making even though we motored all day. By now, we're used to it!
Pipestem Inlet wasn't very interesting. We didn't see the waterfall the guidebooks promised, but we did see an interesting logging operation. A small tug was idling at the offshore end of a barge that was held by a shoreline - it looked as if the tug was holding the barge away from the shore; the line to the shore was taut.
A small helicopter was lifting bundles of what we assumed were blocks of cedar from a location a few hundred yards up the steep hillside and lowering them to the deck of the barge. Four men in hard hats stood by until the chopper cable unhooked, then they swarmed the bundles and manually stacked the chunks (which looked like prime firewood chunks) in stacks at the end of the barge. All I could imagine was that it was material to make cedar shakes - no wonder they are so expensive!
Turtle Bay is surrounded by low, featureless islands. None of the guidebooks describe natural features that would draw a visitor. The interesting cultural feature is dead and gone - “Salal Joe,” a hermit who lived for years on Turtle Island and got his nickname by harvesting salal for florists. DT
Computer Entry. Turtle Bay. It is now about 1914 in the evening. The Galley Slave and navigation duties are out of the way. Both tasks now fall on the same evening making for a lot of work. I got an early start yesterday and still it took much longer than I would care to spend. But it is now done and I can enjoy the view. We are anchored at Turtle Bay, which is formed by a series of islands surrounding the body of water in most all directions. It was a tricky entry but, other than shoal anxiety, we managed with out any real problems. The hook set well on the first try. Presto changeo, we are home again.
These islands of the Broken Group are picturesque. Many low tree covered islands clustered around open channels. It is a perfect place to sea kayak and many people come here for just that reason. We can see a camp of kayakers just a little to the north of us. Right after we arrived we went paddling and it was such a visual treat. It is also really confusing water to paddle since these islands can look very much alike and tend to hide behind each other. There are no tall promontories to give the place reference. Fortunately for those of us prone to gawk in awe while we get further from our home, we have the charts, the compass, and the GPS to find our way back if things get too hairy.
Before we left Pipestem Inlet this morning we motored over to Cataract Creek to filter some more drinking water. It was good that we had Dink assembled today since it meant we didn't have to go to a marina for water. We dropped the hook in a small cove and paddled back up the estuary until we could paddle no more. From there we walked up stream a bit and filled the water jugs. I must admit I found the task surprisingly satisfying. Like all mariners though the ages we had come to shore to fill the water kegs. It is fitting that we should do this on an extended ocean voyage. Dennis took a bath. The water was warmer than the water I bathed in over in Lucky Creek the previous night.
After leaving Cataract Creek we motored up Pipestem Inlet. I must say that after the fjords we have been through it was disappointing. There were no big rugged peaks or cliffs anywhere along the way. There were also supposed to be a couple of waterfalls and we only saw 1 rather weak one close to the mouth of the inlet. I guess the real treat of that anchorage was the trip up to Lucky Creek Falls.
The sun is now dropping behind the trees. It is wearing a mantle of gold and gray clouds and though the orb itself is no longer visible this gilded mantle lights the nearby island with an aura of molten evening. The water on the bay is so flat that you can make out reflections quite clearly on it. Islands and sky above, islands and sky below. Kingfisher and his reflection chatter across the bay cutting the quiet only to make the silence all the more apparent. And here we are swinging around on the hook just enjoying the view.
Tomorrow we are headed to Nettle Island. It looks to be a great place to kayak and I hope we can get there soon enough to do some paddling. We have until Thursday afternoon before we have to return to the grind of passage making. There is a bit of time banked for the voyage. We figure it is 2 good days to Sooke. 1 day to Victoria and another day to Anacortes so we have 8 days banked and one extra for playing tourist in Vancouver.
As the voyage winds to a close I am ready to return home. I miss Kathryn and our home. Back home Kathryn worries that I am going to return and be dissatisfied my old life. It is quite the contrary. After 2 months of living in a very small space I find myself fondly thinking of Cap and I laughing together. Or planning a trip together. Or even just watching TV. No matter, I am ready to go home. I was thinking last night that it will be odd not having coastal forest just outside my door. I will miss the constantly unfolding mysteries of navigating unknown waters, but right now being at home with my baby sounds pretty appealing.
9/5/00
1019 Log entry. Pulled anchor and motored out of Turtle Bay. There is a kayak campsite on Dodd Island nearby. This has a composting toilet and a white shell lined trail leading to it. There were a number of kayaks pulled up on the beach. Their camps were well hidden from the water. We did not see any water source on Dodd Island.
It is getting foggy now and we are glad for our GPS. There is still several miles of visibility, but this seems to be diminishing. Our destination is Nettle Island where we plan to anchor. From there, there are several interesting paddle locations we can check out. Weather forecast is for light variable west winds.
Computer entry. Lacuna is swinging on the hook here on Nettle Island in the Broken Group. We motored here without much problem and circled the Island looking for anchorages the guidebook listed. In the end, we settled for the bay where the Kayak Ranger Station is located. The approach to the bay was a bit unnerving since there was a good deal of shoal water indicated on the chart. There were also ample visible rocks to enhance the suspense of our approach. The bay is very well protected and the guidebooks suggested the nearby area was ideal for kayaking. There is a composting toilet behind the ranger station and this proved to be a factor in our dropping the hook. It also didn't hurt that there was nobody here. Not even the ranger was anywhere to be found. My guess is that since it is the end of summer the ranger has gone into town to celebrate. Whatever the reason we have not seen another person since we got here. The ranger station is a small house built on a large float dock. There is an open front room for the public and the rear of the building is set aside for the ranger residence. A couple of kayaks were laying on the deck next to the house and a small boat was tied to the side of the dock.
Dennis was not interested in kayaking so I set out by myself this afternoon. I paddled north around the small island that defines the west side of our anchorage. Paddling along the shore I enjoyed the rippling water light in the trees on the shore. Then I paddled across the channel to the lagoon between Jarvis and Jaques Islands. Jarvis/Jaques Lagoon is listed as the most secure anchorage on the west coast of Vancouver Island. The Lagoon channels are labyrinthian and provide interesting paddling. I found my way to the west end of the channels where a pair of women in a sea kayak informed me it was a short distance to open water. Following their direction I paddled up current and was soon looking out at the island studded waters of Coaster Channel. It was a good place to view the Broken Group to the west Not wanting the ebb to catch me beyond the shallow water that led back the way I came I returned to the inland channels after 40 minutes of paddling the west shore of the island. I bucked the current again as I reentered the channel, but there was still enough water for the Folbot to clear the rocky bottom.
Upon returning to the lagoon I paddled to the site of some fish trap weirs the guidebook spoke of. There were 3 of these rock enclosures that were build succeedingly higher up a gradually sloping shore. Laid out to impound fish as the tide retreated they had long since fallen into disrepair. There were holes in the stacked rock walls that now allowed any fish caught by the tide to escape. I sat for 30 minutes next to these ancient rock works. My mind wandered back to the time when cedar canoes would bring families to this place to gather the bounties of the sea. Certainly different from the world I am seeking temporary refuge from. Removed as I am from their world, I felt a kinship with these ancient boat people.
Leaving the rock weirs I paddled a different channel back toward the opening I had entered hours earlier. The GPS proved to be very helpful in this task. I could tell from the cartoon map on the GPS screen that I would probably be able to trust this channel to get me back where I wanted to go. It proved to be accurate and soon I was back at the opening that led back toward Lacuna's anchorage.
Not wanting to return yet I decided to explore yet another channel that led to the north. The tide was still high enough for me to use this other channel to leave the island enclosed lagoon. As I paddled out of the mouth of the channel I spotted a small brown animal moving down the north shore toward the water. I stopped paddling to watch what I believe was a Mink scurry into the water and then trail a v shaped wake across the channel. The wake led into an overhanging root wad on the opposing shore. Once the wake disappeared into the tangle of exposed tree roots I slowly paddled close to attempt spotting the Mink again. This proved to be a futile effort. Despite my quite approach, my careful binocular inspection of the mud and sticks contained beneath the root wad failed to reveal the Minks lair. I suspect the Mink had no such difficulty watching me.
As I paddled back toward Lacuna I spotted a seal swimming on the far side of the channel. I played hide and seek with him for a bit, but he soon vanished, leaving me little else to do but return to Lacuna for dinner. As I paddled back along the same approach that has seemed intimidating in Lacuna I was struck with how different it seemed with only 4 inches of draft to worry about. I paddled around the exposed rocks like they were gates on a race course instead of hull gouging hazards.
9/6/00
1524. Log entry. We weighed anchor at 0842 after a very peaceful night. No wind, no waves, no other boats in the basin in front of the ranger's float cabin at Nettle Island.
We motored for 1.26 hours to the Port Alberni Yacht Club outpost in Robbers Passage between Tazartus Island and Fleming Island. A great facility with excellent hospitality! There are guest docks and member docks, a great shower ($2.00 honor system), a floating clubhouse.
We tied up at the dock for 5 hours while we took showers and paddled around Fleming Island, about a 5.5 mile journey. There were a number of sea caves on the northwest shore. We paddled into one and hung there for several minutes, enjoying the scene. Now we're headed for Bamfield to set up for our Juan De Fuca passage. DT
Computer entry. This morning Dennis made an interesting observation, which illustrates the benefits of our extended voyage. He heard a noise in the night and recognized the sound as a crab hunting bear working the nearby foreshore. I guess we must be acquiring local knowledge if the things that go bump in the night are so readily recognizable.
After a couple of extended hot showers I talked Dennis into exploring the shore of Fleming Island. Our kayak guidebook talked about circumnavigating the island as a good excursion that included the possibility of entering a sea cave. Dennis agreed to do so and so we set off in Dink to explore the island. The first attraction was the rusting black hulk of a Greenpeace boat on the east side of Robbers Passage. It was drawn up close to shore. On the conning tower there were logos representing ships that they had rammed and nets they had destroyed. We paddled around the ship, which looked out of place here next to the Port Alberni Yacht club. Apparently somebody brought this ship here with salvage in mind.
Next we paddled out in the open waters of Trevor Channel and followed the shore to the west. The water was fairly flat and the shore passed by quickly. The guidebook warned about approaching one bay too closely for fear of the dogs that meet all boaters in a barking pack. Sure enough the pack heralded our passage as soon as we rounded the west point and they didn't stop until the last dog had run half a mile west end of the bay barking his determination to prevent our landing.
As we approached the western point of Fleming Island the view was enchanting. There was another small island just to the west. In the channel between the two islands there were numerous islets and sea stacks. Some were large enough to support a singular tree here and there. Others were just storm sculpted rock. As we paddled around the point the elements of the view continually moved in relationship to each other. Some grew larger in relationship to those behind them, some played hide and seek behind the foreground. It was as if the view could not decide on which was the most appealing composition of elements and so kept rearranging them to try every possible combination. After watching this display I suspect that if you have enough sea stacks dancing about in enough sun bathed waves for enough time, you will eventually end up with Nirvana in every language there ever was. I was completely taken by the show.
Finally we rounded the western point of Fleming Island and started to paddle the island's north shore. Here there were a series of sea caves formed by the waves that blew in from the relatively open water of Barkley Sound. Centuries of aquatic pile driving had blasted these caves out of the solid rock cliffs that formed the shore. After a mile of paddling we found one such cave that looked safe to enter. Had the seas not been so benign our approach would have been foolhardy. I suspect that many would conclude that even today it was not a wise idea to paddle back into a cave that had such an exposure to an open body of water. But undeterred by the limitations of rational thinking we approached slowly and finally we entered the cave. The opening was about 10 feet high and 8 feet wide. As the swells washed in and out of the cave the Folbot surged up and down and back and forth between the rock walls. The walls were covered in a myriad of sea life. Colorful starfish of purple and orange were the most outstanding examples. But the cavern was alive with multitudes of creatures. The cave was only 20 or 30 feet deep and there was light enough to see all the way to the end. At the waters end sand led up to where the rock ceiling met the floor. Here was as far as the fury of Barkley Sound had been able to burrow into the living rock. We didn't land, but rather floated a bit short of the cave's terminus. Waves rocked us forward and then back again. It was an interesting experience to idle at the whim of the same waves that over the centuries had pounded this tunnel through stone. Dennis finally broke the spell to ask if I had had enough. I had and we back paddled out to the open water again.
I had hoped to paddle beyond Robbers Passage but Dennis wanted to return to Lacuna and motor on to Bamfield. This would put us in position for a run for the Straits of Juan De Fuca tomorrow. This was a prudent idea, but it meant the end of our paddling for the summer. I was a bit hesitant, but accepted the logic of the idea. Our time was running low. Once again we were obligated to demands of the calendar. Our exploration of Barkley Sound would be the last such undirected portion of this voyage. With some reluctance I agreed, and soon Lacuna was motoring away from the Yacht Club dock toward Bamfield.
1954 Log entry. We arrived at the public dock at Bamfield at 1617, had dinner, and I did laundry and got groceries and ice while Ed did the navigation for the next day's passage. DT
9/7/00
0800. Log entry. Left fuel dock at Bamfield. Took on 33 liters of fuel. Forecast for everywhere but Juan De Fuca is for gale warnings. We hope to slip through with a northwest wind.
0910 Log entry. Turned back to Bamfield. Winds to southwest would not allow us to head south without slowing us down greatly. Also we would be on a lee shore for at least 25 miles. It is now raining heavily. We are reaching at 6 1/2 knots back to port.
Log entry. We took advantage of the 20+ knot wind (and ignored the driving rain) to reach back up Trevor Channel. We held 6 1/2 knots for miles, with little interference from the waves - there wasn't much fetch. We hit 7 1/2 knots at one point. Lacuna was ripping along with the full main and # 1 jib, a balanced helm, and water boiling out astern!
We were looking for the three humpback whales that a fisherman yesterday saw west of Robbers Passage - right where we were! But the rain was so heavy and the sailing so great that we couldn't have seen their spouts. We came about some 4 or 5 miles northeast of the Bamfield harbor entry and clawed our way back against the building wind and driving rain. We kept up 5 1/2 knots on a close reach under first reef. Finally, we clawed our way into the harbor and dropped the sails.
We're now tied up at the Hawkeye Group Marina, plugged into shore power, charging the batteries and drying out the interior with the 120 volt heater. DT
Computer entry. It is almost 1400 of a day that turned out much different than it started out. At 0600 we listened to the weather forecast and Dennis and I disagreed about how to read the day's weather. To me it sounded like a rough day that would get rougher. Our next safe harbor, Port San Juan, is 43 miles away, there is no place to hide until you get there. Ten miles inside the mouth of the Straits of Juan De Fuca, Port San Juan is considered a marginal anchorage at best. There are no services and few secure places to set a hook. The Sailing Direction, which is written with large ships in mind, says, that if a SW gale is indicated it is a good idea to leave Port San Juan and run for Neah Bay in Washington state. We have no ambition to cross the Straits of Juan De Fuca here. It is another 30 miles to Sooke Harbor, which is the first real protected water on the Canadian side of the Straits. This is not a place to get a small boat caught in big weather.
The forecast listed a long series of Gale Warnings and every weather station was reporting falling barometers and rising seas. However in the midst of this unenticing projection the Canadian Straits of Juan De Fuca forecast was intriguing. This was for 15 to 20 knot winds in the morning.
Dennis was animate that this sounded like a hole in the weather. If we could catch a northwest wind at 20 knots we could make some very impressive progress. In these conditions it is even possible to run to Vancouver Harbor in 1 day.
I didn't like the litany of Gale Warnings that filled the rest of the forecast. The local barometers were falling all around us and that was the story for the entire British Colombian coast. The American side of the Straits of Juan De Fuca projected 14 foot seas. Most areas were projected to have 3 to 4 meter seas. Lacuna is a small boat in such water. Then there is the “Graveyard of the Pacific” reputation of this stretch of coastline to consider. Apparently there has been 1 shipwreck for every mile of shore form Bamfield to Sooke Harbor, hence the reassuring handle.
I finally gave into Dennis' persistence that we should go. It took some time to put the Folbot away and to get Lacuna ready to sail. We motored away form the fuel dock at 0800 and headed to Cape Beale and the open ocean. The shoreline leading out the lighthouse at Cape Beale was very rugged. Large stone cliffs and sea stacks lined the water's edge. There was a strong wind blowing but not from the northwest. The wind was southerly as you would expect with a storm front. Dennis still insisted we sail out past the first couple of way points to see if we could make it. Once we were past the end of Cape Beale he asked me to get a compass heading on the wind. It turned out that we would be bashing into the wind for 20 miles to The Straits of Juan De Fuca. We would also be clawing our way with the Graveyard of the Pacific on our lee. Finally Dennis relented. From there on it was a fantastic day.
Once we turned back into Trevor Channel the sailing got really good. Lacuna was making a steady 6 1/2 knots. We raced past the cliffs of Cape Beale more like a sport boat than an overloaded beamy cruiser. We beam reached all the way back the entrance to Bamfield Harbor. Once there nobody had any objections to sailing on. Since we were sailing close to the windward eastern shore of Trevor Channel there were virtually no seas. What swells there were came at us from behind and added to our speed. This 20 knot beam wind joy ride continued all the way up Trevor Channel. At one point a gust came up and Lacuna took off racing before it. I looked down at the knot meter to see the needle riding above 7 1/2 knots!!! To my knowledge Lacuna has never run this fast. Carrying more load than any other time in the 10 years we have owned her, she was planing like a dingy! It was amazing. We raced up Trevor Channel, sailing along the same water we had paddled yesterday. This time we were moving a lot faster than our leisurely kayak trip. We raced on until we got to the head Trevor Channel and then we tacked to beat our way back down it again. This was some of the best sailing on the voyage. There were large grins and wide eyes all around.
The one negative was that it was pouring rain. Not just raining but flat out pouring. A steady stream of water, which had collected on the mainsail ran off Lacuna's boom into the cockpit. Standing water kept collecting in the leeward seat and cockpit well. It drained when the boat came upright, but there was not a lot of level sailing going on. In fact Lacunas leeward gunnel spent more time dipping close to the water than it did running upright and level. We reefed the main sail and discussed changing to the #2 jib but never quite got to that point.
Finally we returned to the mouth of Bamfield Harbor. I suggested that there was hot coffee and pie ala mode just inside the harbor entrance. Dennis was hesitant to stop sailing but in the long run coffee and pie won out. Then just to add to the day's adventure the motor died. It also chose to do so right in front of the Coast Guard Dock. We had dropped the head sail and were preparing to do the same to the main when the Honda just cut out. Repeated pulls on the starter cord were not effective. Finally it fired up and Dennis let the engine race for a while to make sure it would not die again. Luckily it didn't and we didn't wash up against the Coast Guard Cutters moored just to the lee of us. Soon we had tied up at the public dock.
Last night we stayed at the Public Dock, which is right next to the marina. But as we walked up the dock on our way to pie and coffee, I noticed that there were power outlets on the nearby marina dock. This settled it, we walked right up to the office and booked moorage with power. We can recharge Lacuna's batteries. These have suffered from the last few days of overcast skies. The solar cells can't keep up with our power usage in those conditions. The dock wiring was little more that a glorified extension cord. Some sort of Romex wire was simply laid along the dock with a loose outlet box on its end. Not exactly the most reassuring set up, but it did deliver 120 volt power to Lacuna, so we readily hooked our shore cable to the loose box. We still could end up stuck at Port San Juan for days and full batteries would really help make such an enforced stay a good deal more comfortable.
This also meant we could hook up our electric heater and it was soon pumping out hot dry air. Considering the wet condition of the cabin after our morning of playing in the rain this was a godsend. Not only that, but we took all our wet clothes up to the Laundromat and didn't let them back below until they were completely dry.
So now our leisurely exploration of Barkley Sound is at a close and the demands of passage making on the open coast sets in once again. It has been awhile since we were forced to stay in harbor by bad weather. The rain is reminiscent of our days in Winter Harbor. The difference is that Bamfield is looking rather prosperous. As we ate our pie, a couple from Alberta came in and we ended up in conversation. The guy had lived here as a kid. He left when the cannery closed down some years ago. At that time the predictions for the town were dire, and, was quite surprised at how developed it had become. I could understand his feeling since it is a 60 mile dirt logging road ride to get here. Vehicular traffic on this road is not encouraged and all the publications warn that the road is frequently hazardous when the log trucks are running. Not a quick spin across town. You can also come from Port Alberni by water taxi, but this could take most of a day. Despite its similar remote location Bamfield looks to be the polar opposite from Winter Harbor. Much is similar. Both are old fishing towns. Both are built along the waters edge. Both have boardwalks along the waters edge, which connect all the houses and provide a scaffold to the utilities to run. Economically the places were clearly heading in different directions.
Bamfield is a water community. I suspect most of the town's supplies arrive by boat. There is no road connecting the east and west portions of town. They are built along both sides of the harbor and the only way to get to the west side is by boat. The locals refer to the open channel between the two sides of town as “Main Street”.
Everything here is very expensive. We bought 2 dinners of burgers and fries (all that was on the menu) and it cost us $30 plus tip. Sport fishing seems to be the big draw. This is also the terminus of the West Coast Trail. Hikers come here to catch the boat or the bus back to Port Alberni. Hikers with packs close at hand have been relatively common in town today since the boat that ferries people to Port Alberni arrives today. I also saw 2 large capacity van busses in town today picking up hikers.
Eco-tourism is a large industry all over Vancouver Island. Jamie's is a company that we have seen all down the coast. They seem to have franchise outlets everywhere. When we sat in the hall of the Sea Lion King there was a steady stream of Jamie's boats bringing people through. They seemed to have a boat landing and leaving every hour at Hot Springs Cove. Everywhere we go these boats are a constant companion. And this is just 1 company. There are independents in every port also vying for the same tourist dollars. Dennis and I each paid $70 plus tax to watch Orcas in Alert Bay. Judging by what we have seen, there are boatloads of people like us laying out cash all the time. Whale watching, bird watching, landscape survey all delivered by local industry. It is a rather large economic concern at this point.
Having a weather enforced lay day brings back the “hurry up and wait” reality of passage making. You have to be ready to go at any time but you have to sit still all the same. Lay days at Bull Harbor, Winter Harbor, Tofino. Wait to leap around the “Great Capes” Scott, Brooks, Estevan, and now we are doing the same drill for The Straits of Juan De Fuca. It is kind of interesting to be so out of control of my own life. I can't just drive where I want to go. Life as a mobile American has ill prepared me for this hair pin waiting but I am enjoying it all the same. You just have to let go. You can't dictate the wind or the seas. They will do what they will and it is at their pleasure that you go your way along this coastline. It simply isn't your call.
It has grown easier to be comfortable aboard Lacuna. We have resealed most of the leaks opened up by our pounding in Tofino. Once again it is a real pleasure not to have a leaking boat. Especially the hatch over my bed. Getting to appreciate the benefits of all the work we have put into this boat is rewarding as well. The paint job cost 2 long months work and thousands of dollars to complete, but now it pays dividends every day. Our living space is light and comfortable. No more perpetually pealing paint to flake off on your head or your bed. It's wonderful. The reconfigured ports are also a big improvement in the cabin interior. Over the course of this 2 month voyage we are collecting interest on the years of investment that have gone before. Even on the hook in a wind - whipped downpour, lay days are comfortable. It is depressing to think what our voyage would have been like without all the improvements.
9/8/00 Bamfield trails marina
Computer entry. So here we are doing the weather watch two step again. This morning the forecast was horrible. There were gale warnings all up and down Vancouver Island. Seas were projected to reach 3 to 4 meters and the winds in the Straits of Juan De Fuca were supposed to reach 40 knots. Needless to say we went back to sleep. The weather didn't read the forecaster's projections and turned out to be a perfect day for making our passage. We however spent the day at the dock because of the dismal forecast. Yesterday we ran in the face of the forecast and were blown back. Today we headed the forecast and missed what may have been our only day of sailing the fabled northwest wind. Oh well I guess you win a few and you lose a few. Tomorrow looks like it might be good.
The dock here has a school of squid that seem to hang around a lot. They are a greenish gray and white. I noticed them yesterday in the rain. They are here again today. Maybe they got laid up by the forecast also. Dennis was hoping the Humpback Whale we had heard about in the area would come by for a snack. I am doubtful.
9/9/00
1228 Log entry. We've been underway since 0620. Much to our regret, we stayed in Bamfield yesterday, a beautiful, sunny day, because the weather forecast predicted 40 knot westerlies. We listened to the light house and buoy reports - it never got much over 20 knots. We would have had some great sailing!
Instead, we're now entering the Juan De Fuca Strait with a 5 - 10 knot southeast wind, almost dead ahead. It's enough off our course that we have the mainsail up to steady us as we motor into the wind and current, but it's too close for us to use the jib. The wind is cold but fortunately it hasn't rained much today despite the low stratus clouds. DT
Computer entry. Today's passage was a long one, in fact our passage to Sooke was the longest passage ever in Lacuna. We left Bamfield in the early morning with our running lights on. We arrived in Sooke Harbor about an hour after sunset. We figured it was about 74 miles. It rained much of the day but the wind never got very strong. There were some large swells as we motored along Vancouver Island's exposed southwestern coast. At times is was demanding task to keep Lacuna running along our intended direction of passage. The seas appeared to be 6 feet on the average and many were larger by far. Seas were coming from 2 different directions so there were constant surprises. Along the cliff - bound coast we watched countless waves slam against the rocks and explode 50 feet in the air. There were also 2 large waterfalls that we could clearly see from 1 1/2 miles away. One of the falls was probably not even visible from the land since it was surrounded by 50 foot cliffs.
It is clear why so many seamen died when they wrecked along this coastline. Even if you survived the wreck, there were impossible cliffs to climb. If you managed the cliffs, there was miles of coastal brush between you and civilization. Brush that, even today, you don't go strolling in without a chainsaw to provide the way. This grim story is the reason there is a coastal trail here today. Before the advent of adventure tourism the trail was constructed to provide a way for shipwrecked sailors to reach civilization. Before the trail many had died for the lack. Even this modern trail is no easy stroll in the park. We heard that the Canadian Army had a tough time hiking the trail recently. Today from the ocean the view was stunning. The cliffs ran for miles along this rugged shore. The only thing I saw climbing these walls were the waves crashing against their bases.
We had talked about the limitations of Port San Juan, which was our first possible anchorage. It wasn't really a good harbor. There was no float dock to tie up. The large bay is open to the south and so storms can really churn the place up. The Sailing directions recommend that boats anchored in Port San Juan weigh anchor and steam to Neah Bay Washington at the first sign of heavy weather. So when we arrived at Port San Jan at around 1400, we just kept going. It was a good day to make a passage of The Straits of Juan De Fuca. The seas had subsided greatly by this time and it just seemed a waste of a long awaited passage making day to stop short of a real safe harbor. So on to Sooke Harbor we went. It rained much of the afternoon and even with all my gear on I still got cold during my 15 hours at the helm. I am still exhausted from the effort.
Sooke Harbor was a very hair raising entrance. It was quite dark when we made our approach. The harbor is mostly mud shoal with just enough rocks to keep things interesting. There are lit ranges to lead you through most of the channel but there is a large gap in the lighted approach. We passed the first 2 ranges without much more than a bit of apprehension at the closeness of the rocks that reared up close in the darkness. Then came the section without ranges and we almost hit some of those large rocks. I looked across the dark water and spotted a dark silhouette just ahead of the bow. Dennis, who was navigating the difficult approach, directed me to run close to that dark form. I was making my approach went I then spotted 2 other low rocks just ahead. I yanked the rudder and we slipped by with no more than a good scare. There was a lot of relief when we reached the last of the ranges. But even this beacon led us right past the marker buoy and almost into the shoals. Just before we made contact with the shoals Dennis got our spot light working. There to the starboard was the green buoy that we should have turned at. All in all I think the Sooke approach was the most difficult thing we have done this voyage.
As we sat with our decompression beers it hit me how even though we had much more time to make this voyage, it was not enough. Much like our voyage on Shoca it was a constant series of tasks that demanded our attention. So much so that it was surprising to arrive in Sooke and realize that the voyage was nearly over. I had been so consumed with the next passage, or the next repair job, or getting supplies replenished, or listening to the forecast and deciding to make our daily run or not, or making the right approach to the oncoming seas that it was easy not to notice how fast the time and landscape was racing by. Sitting in the dark at the marina it suddenly hit me it was over. We both agreed that each of the large west coast inlets we passed through could easily take a month to really explore. When you consider how little of the Inland Passage we actually saw it really becomes obvious that there will never be enough time to see it all.
Another comparison to the Columbia voyage was the relativity of space. On Shoca it was minimal protection outside the gaskets of our dry suits. Having a hold to go below while under sail made Lacuna seem spacious. However, each night we would land Shoca on the beach. On shore we would set up camp and there was usually plenty of space to walk around. On Lacuna we spent many nights on the hook. On the hook there is nowhere to go beyond Lacuna's 23 feet of deck. After a few of these nights on the hook, Shoca began to seem less crowded than Lacuna. Of course I can't rule out “The grass is always greener” effect.
9/10/00
0748 Log entry. Morris Cafe, Sooke. We spent more than 13 hours yesterday, motoring and motor sailing through persistent rain, fickle winds, and 3 meter swells to reach Sooke. By the time we got to the harbor entry, it was very dark.
The Sooke harbor is, for the most part, non-navigable because of shoals. Whiffin Spit, a low sand bar, almost blocks the entry. From there on, there is only a narrow navigable channel. The entry has three lighted ranges to aid in the approach from the Straits. Between the second and third set of ranges there were shoals close on the port and rocks close on the starboard. We worked our way in slowly and got to the Sooke Harbor Marina, where we tied up for the night. It took a few beers to quench the nervous energy before we could go to sleep.
This morning, we left the dock early and motored a couple of hundred meters to the public dock, where we tied so we could hike into town for breakfast. DT
0945 Log entry. We left the dock at Sooke Harbor. Much easier to manage navigation out of this confusing channel in the daylight. The Sooke harbor approach was by far the most hair raising passage of the journey. It had all the right elements = rocks, shoals, nighttime, narrow confusing channels and our profound lack of local knowledge. Out intent today is to head to Victoria. This will entail bucking the ebb current in Race Passage.
1010 log entry. Raised the # 1 jib and main sail to motor sail on a beam reach
1300 log entry Arrived in Victoria and tied up at the Wharf Street dock. It was a quick passage over a sunny morning. From the dock I can hear a street musician singing and playing the guitar. I can also hear bagpipes. We are right at the foot of the Empress Hotel. There are some large sailboats here including a very large schooner and a square rig barkinteen tied up in the slips around us.
Computer entry. So today we arrived in Victoria. Lacuna is tied up at a small dock at the quay below the Empress Hotel. We are literally surrounded by history. The oldest wooden sailing boat in Canada is tied up next to Lacuna's bow and on her starboard beam is a hundred year old schooner/ trawler. Across the marina there is a barkeinteen square rigged ship. On our way into the harbor we passed a replica of the Hudsons Bay Company's sidewheel steamer Beaver. It is a fitting completion for a Vancouver Island circumnavigation.
Victoria is filled with tourists. It is a big city that makes a good part of its living by the tourist trade. There are nonstop buskers playing on the quay above our dock. Drummers, guitarists, jugglers and vaudevillians. There are 2 or 3 acts going on at once along the quay. It is a lot like the Country Fair with spars.
Today Dennis and I went to the Maritime museum for the afternoon. I was so tired that I suspect that there was much I missed. It was a good museum, however, I think I like the Maritime Museum in Astoria is better.
9/13/00
1243 Log entry. We're motoring out of Victoria Harbor after taking on 12.3 liters of gasoline. We've had a wonderful few days in Victoria. We've had great weather - warm and sunny, a great location, lots of sights and sounds. It was like the OCF on the sidewalk next to the docks - fine jugglers, musicians, blanket vendors.
On the voyage to date we've used 350 liters of gas (92.4 gallons) to go 1102 nautical miles (=3.1/ L, or 11.9 nautical miles to the gallon. DT
1843. We've completed the circumnavigation! We're now docked at the Cap Sante Marina, waiting for customs to answer the phone.
Customs has been very frustrating. I've been trying to get them on the cell phone since 1330. At one point, I was on hold for 12 minutes, listening to the taped message over and over, before giving up in disgust. DT
Computer entry. Our passage from Victoria was a good one. The day was sunny and for the most part we had favorable currents. We even spotted a whale in Rosario Straits. Dennis finally did get through to customs, where we got our entry approval over the phone. We slinged the boat out to the water the next morning and spent the day driving back to Eugene.