Happily Tucked Away in Comox

Today we’re happily tucked in at the Comox Municipal Marina, sheltering ourselves from the 30 knot winds that are blowing outside. Today’s picture attempts to capture a bit of what it’s like – even inside the marina behind the breakwater the tops of the waves are breaking.

Our plan had been to cross the Strait today, but yesterday while we were motoring our way in glassy calm seas from Von Donop Inlet to our destination at Gorge Harbor, we got the weather prediction for 30+ knot winds today. After a few moments of consideration, we changed plans and decided to skip Gorge Harbor and keep motoring across the straits while it was calm. THIS spontaneous decision was a good one. We got in about 6 pm last night after a totally uneventful day and are now securely tied to the dock. All of the fishing boats tied to a neighoring dock next to us are also staying home. No one wants to be out in wind like this.

Tomorrow it is supposed to calm down and we will continue our way south. Meantime we’re enjoying a day of staying in place, getting laundry done, taking showers, shopping for groceries and exploring the town of Comox, which has prettied itself up considerably since we were last here several years ago. We’ll eat out tonight at one of its several good restaurants and then be happily on our way.

Hunting for food

Here's a picture I wanted to post earlier, with the dinghy loaded for setting crab traps and fishing. A typical day in the life of the provisioner!

A First for Viner Sound

Two nights ago we anchored in one of our favorite coves, at the end of Viner Sound. There are two small coves you can tuck into, each with two buoys. If you don’t get a buoy, you have to do a stern tie because there isn’t enough room to swing. We have never been there when there was an empty buoy, so were speculating on whether we’d be lucky enough to come up with one.

Miracles do happen! Not only was there a buoy, there was no one else there at all, so we had our choice of buoys. We secured ourselves to the one that’s furthest from the channel and spent a very peaceful night, all by ourselves.

Viner Sound is also a good crabbing spot, so I set both my pots and unfortunately had another first for Viner—no crab at all. However I had a crab in the refrigerator that we enjoyed for dinner that night, and we had a delicious ling cod dinner the night before with a piece of cod that was given to us. We’re certainly not hurting for seafood.

Many boats are headed home this time of year, as we are, so the crowd thins out quite a bit. Yesterday was our “do or die” day to get down Johnstone Strait. We were hoping for the predicted 10-15 NW wind, but it was flat calm, as it has been on most of our transits. We now back at Shoal Bay, gazing up Phillip’s Arm, where we’ll stay for another night before heading to Von Donop Inlet (on the northwest side of Cortes Island) in Desolation Sound. There’s definitely the nippy feel of fall in the air mornings and evenings.

A Woman's Work is Never Done

Yesterday, after dropping a shrimp pot off the Tamarisk, after we anchored I loaded my dinghy with two crab traps and my fishing gear. Despite careful rowing back and forth my fishfinder didn't find any fish shapes and the two times I dropped my line confirmed that. So no fish.

I picked up the traps this morning. My shrimp pot yielded two starfish, one baby crab and one prawn—all of which went back to where they’d come from. One crab trap was empty. The other had several female crabs (which you cannot keep) but also one nice-sized male crab, now resting in my refrigerator.

So that's roughly 500 feet of line pulled up for one crab. Keeps one fit!!

(I have a nice picture, but haven't had much success recently getting my pictures to load so you'll have to do without them until I can get to a place where I can upload them)

Boat Work

This picture demonstrates the interesting exercise one gets on a boat—skewering yourself into small places in order to fix things. Here Phil has leveraged himself into the small locker in the bow to secure an extra reel of line out of the way. Don’t you wish you were here to do that?

The First Fish

This morning I got in my first fishing expedition. I had a recommendation that where prawn traps are set is a good place to fish for bottom fish. Apparently those bottom fish like to feed on prawns! Shawl Bay, where we spent the past town nights, is a popular prawning spot. Yesterday a guy on one boat caught a beautiful 2 foot red snapper. Definitely stirred my interest, so I determined to get myself out to fish.

Each year when I start to fish, I have to learn all over again how to tie the knot that secures the hook, how to arrange my gear, and how to make my little fishfinder work (after being reminded how to start the little engine we have for the dinghy—I’m a rower, not an engine person). After a half hour of gathering gear (fish pole, fishing gear box, gaff hook to bring the mighty fish aboard, a baby bathtub to put the fish in so it doesn’t flop all over the dinghy, a piece of pipe to serve as a fish bonker, a net (just in case—but not advised for bottom fish, which tend to tangle up the net with their spiny top fins), my gloves, and my lifejacket, I was finally ready to go.

I motored out to the fishing spot, dropped my line in about 150 feet of water (about 100 feet less than where the guy yesterday had fished, but my fishfinder was telling me there were fish down there), and within a minute I had a bite. NOT a nice big one, and NOT a red snapper, but a pretty little bottom fish a little over a foot long, big enough to feed the two of us. I could probably have just hauled it aboard with the pole, but used my gaff hook for practice. A successful expedition--my criteria for success is whether the fish can feed both of us.

My prawn haul at Shawl Bay was also not impressive, but in two pulls I garnered a dozen prawns—enough to make a dinner for us. Now I am in that place I often find myself while in the Broughtons, with a backlog of several meals of fresh seafood (1 crab, one dozen prawns, and 2 fish fillets) to be eaten. That frozen meat in our freezer will just have to wait. Such a problem to have, eh?

Relaxing and watching the scenery

One of the things I enjoy about our coastal waters is the lovely scenes that greet you at the edges of water and land. I love rowing about slowly with my dinghy to catch the interesting shapes and colors with my eye, and sometimes with my camera. Here is one of those images – a wshot of Tamarisk framed by an interesting log on shore, all by herself in Simoom Sound, a large inlet opening off the even larger Kingcome Inlet.

We anchored in Simoom two nights, and today moved to Shawl Bay, one of our favorite marinas, where things are very informal. We’ll gather at 5 pm for pot luck hors d’oeuvres and meet people from the other boats. Tomorrow evening there will be a pot luck dinner centered around a deep-fried turkey done by the marina owners. This marina is a good place to do laundry, plus stock up on freshly-made bread. The marina owners, Lorn and Shawn and their son Rob also serve up pancakes and coffee for everyone. Hard to beat!

In the Broughtons at Last!

Yesterday we made our way up to the Broughtons, at long last. The Johnstone Strait was finally quiet and we made an easy passage with a helpful current, arriving in record time at our first Broughtons destination, Lagoon Cove. We enjoyed the great cocktail hour Lagoon is known for, with a generous platter of freshly caught shrimp provided by the marina owners. Every day Bill Barber, the owner, goes out to retrieve several shrimp pots and brings in a huge bucket-full of shrimp. This morning we watched him cook them in salt water, scooping them out as they floated to the top of the boiling water. They cook very quickly – just 2-3 minutes--and are absolutely delicious, as is the sauce he makes to go with them.

This afternoon we moved to Kwatsi Bay. I couldn't get my picture to load so you will have to imagine our lovely setting in a quiet bay surrounding by high mountains. It's one of the most lovely settings in the Broughtons. We are the only sailboat on the dock, in company with several 50" foot power boats, almost all from the US. This evening we enjoyed another shared hour of appetizers on the dock—everyone brings a appetizer contribution and their own drinks, and we meet the other boaters. It’s the tradition up here in the Broughtons, and a very nice one.

Tomorrow we’ll move to a place where we can swing at anchor for a couple days. We’ve been at a dock for the last six nights—unusual for us. Our new solar panels are doing a great job of keeping our batteries sufficiently charged that we don’t need dock power. And lucky us, we arrived in the Broughtons with some sun—the first they’ve seen in over a month. That’s helping the solar power production as well. So far we’ve had really great weather.

Enoyed crab cakes tonight, finishing off the crab I got in Pender. Got one more crab at Lagoon so we have more, plus some shrimp. We’ll take a break from seafood tomorrow night to have spaghetti with hamburger. After eating seafood for a week, one actually gets a yearning for a little meat!

Living off the Sea

We have made our way to Shoal Bay, one of our favorite cruising stops. Shoal Bay is located on the northeast side of East Thurlow Island, with a lovely view looking up Phillip’s Arm. There’s a government dock run by Mark McDonald, who owns the land to which the dock is attached. Mark has a small cabin that serves as a pub and gathering center for people on the boats tied up and anchored in the bay. So each evening there’s a group gathered on the front deck (in nice weather), often listening to musicians off some of the boats who bring their guitars and whatever else they play. Last night we were treated to a bluegrass group all traveling on one boat – a trio of mandolins and a banjo. The view across the bay pictured above is what you see on a sunny day.
There’s also usually a project of some kind to work on—this time it’s an outdoor platform for gathering. They’re having a music festival here in a couple weeks and want a performing and gathering space. So yesterday I joined in the hammering to get the deck planks fastened down. Other nifty things available here, in addition to good company, include internet access, a burn barrel to take care of accumulated paper, a compost pile to take care of accumulated food scraps, and a place to leave bottles and cans for recycling. Those are all hard to find, and important to boaters.

We’re also into our third day of living off things that I am harvesting from the sea. After our beautiful oyster lunch at Pender, we’ve had a clam chowder from clams also gathered at Pender, and last night a crab dinner from the crabs I caught at Pender. Tonight we’ll have oysters again, and we have another crab to eat. I also have a shrimp pot out—one of the regulars who stays here for months at a time told me about a spot where he regularly gets prawns. We’ll see if I have any luck there.

A Happy Chance Meeting!

We’ve just experienced one of those “chance” events that you think must have a guiding hand behind it. Last Friday in Pender Harbor I sent a message to our friends Earl and Kristin Lasher, with whom we did lots of boating when their and our children were young. They sold their sail boat about 13 years ago, but this year bought another boat (42’ Grand Banks, so they moved from sail to power). My message was to find out if by any chance they would be cruising any where near us this summer. The next morning we were hailed by Earl Lasher from his boat, which he and Kristin were picking up in Pender Harbor! They had just gotten my message the night before and were looking for us as they left the harbor. They were on their way to Desolation so we agreed to stay in touch.

Then the weather helped give us a day together. The Lashers went out into the channel and discovered that the wind and seas were way too boisterous for them (and for us, we decided). They returned and we both decided to put off moving north for better weather. We spent a great day together, sharing a fresh oyster lunch from oysters I’d picked from our friend’s beach (which you see in the picture), taking advantage of their moorage at the Seattle Yacht Club outstation to do laundry and take showers, and then enjoying a lovely dinner at the Painted Boat Restaurant.

On Sunday the weather calmed down and we both headed off north—they to pick up grandchildren in Desolation Sound and we to stop at Lund to visit friends. We spent last night in Lund enjoying a great supper with our friends Barbara and Warren Chapman and today we’re heading through Desolation to run the Dent rapids about 5:30 and tuck in at Shoal Bay, on the northeast corner of East Thurlow Island. We’ll stay there a few days, and since they have internet, my next posting will be from there.

Our First Great Adventure of the Cruise

After a smooth start to our voyage with our engine ticking along beautifully, on our second day out Phil sponsored our first big adventure of the season, putting us aground (actually “arock”) on a rock reef. How did our experienced captain manage that?

We were coming into Ganges Harbor, which has a chain of islands separating the main harbor from the smaller harbor where we planned to anchor. We have crossed between those islands many times, carefully, because there are lots of rocks scattered about, in the places where the chart shows there’s enough water. On this particular trip, we were almost at the pass that we had planned to take when Phil saw a large, older sailboat come slipping across a passage that was nearer (and fuller of rocks than most, according to the chart). He made a sudden decision to go through where the other boat had gone, and found to his chagrin that the other guy knew where to go much better than he did. We slid up on a nice reef of rocks and came to a halt, with a slight list to starboard. Not a big list, and we were still afloat fore and aft—just stuck in the middle.

If you note the two pictures, you will note in the first one that you really don’t want to be able to see rocks that close as you look through the lifelines over the railing. In the second picture you can see that we’re listing a bit to starboard.

Several helpers appeared right away, first to be sure the boat and its occupants were all right (we were, though with an embarrassed captain), and then to offer advice and help. Two good things had happened—(1) the rock was smooth where we hit it so we had not suffered any damage and even moreso (2) it was low tide and we had several hours of incoming tide to help us get enough water to get off. After one helpful person took an anchor out to secure us and keep us from sliding further onto the reef, we fixed cocktails (it was 5:15 pm) and sat down to wait. In a very short period of time the water had come in enough that we were heeling less. About that time another pair of people came by to offer help, one of whom put a line on our bow to pull us while the other gave us a sideways push to keep us from sliding further onto the reef. After a couple of tries, we were free. We gathered in our lines and gave hearty thanks to all involved, then proceeded to get ourselves properly anchored.

After all that ado, we decided to treat ourselves to a dinner in Ganges Harbor—quite a nice one at a restaurant we hadn’t tried before. Biggest lesson learned (other than BELIEVE THE CHART) is “don’t make spontaneous decisions.”

We hope that’s our season’s grounding and we can get on from there without any other major mishaps. We seem to have to do something like this once a season, just to humble ourselves. Since Ganges, we have spent an uneventful night in the northern Gulf Islands (Ladysmith Harbor) and are currently anchored in Pender Harbor where we are visiting with our friend Jack Charlton, who has a cabin on Mary Islet in the middle of the harbor. After a day of rest, we’ll move on north to Desolation Sound, possibly stopping at Lund.