September 4 -- Postlude

As we were planning our trip last spring, we felt badly that we would miss summer at home. As it turns out, we came home to summer after missing it on our travels. Now that we are here, we are in no hurry to move back into the house. The transition will be gradual, and soon enough we will be at home looking for something still on the boat, or vice versa. As long as the weather stays good, we will stay close to the water.

As we look back over the past three months and 2,000 miles, we have a sense of accomplishment and a new understanding of the northwest coast of this continent. Words that come to mind to describe the landscape: vast, imposing, empty, powerful, majestic, daunting; to describe the people of this sparsely populated coast: adventuresome, brave, tough, hard-working, friendly; to describe the water of the Inside Passage: dark, predictable, challenging but do-able; the weather: cold (no surprise), wet (disappointing), spectacular (occasionally).

We met many very nice people along the way and hope we can continue to be in contact with some of them. Many of them do the trip to Alaska every year. Once is enough for us—having “been there, done that”, we would stay south of Cape Caution on future sailing adventures. While faraway destinations have their appeal, home is better. We can see mountains and wilderness from our marina on Indian Arm. Within an hour’s sail north “up the Arm” we have majestic waterfalls and bears on the beach, or if we motor an hour west we can dock and walk in sophisticated downtown Vancouver.

Our next boating challenge will be one of separation, as the time looms ahead when we have to sell our old friend Skylark II, and become full-time landlubbers. As we look over our logs, photos, and the journals we have posted, we realize that we have a rich treasure chest of boating memories. Thanks for sharing the trip.

September 2 -- Welcoming Committee

The flood tide gives us a boost as we motor in calm air on smooth seas along the Sunshine Coast, past Sechelt and Gibsons, around Bowen Island, and into English Bay. The skyline of Vancouver rises to meet us in fairer weather than on the day we left. We cross under Lions Gate Bridge, pass Stanley Park on the right and the yellow North Shore sulfur piles on the left, wind our way through anchored freighters and barges and around a tugboat doing circles (trying out his engine, we heard him say on the radio), and come alongside a small dock.

Today is the first day of school, but it is a short day, so we have arranged to pick up two of our granddaughters, (plus two cousins and a friend) at Lonsdale Quay. They join us for the last hour as we head in to our marina. The girls have had a great summer with trips to Ottawa, camp, and Europe, and have much to tell us. It is so good to see them again!

Burrard Inlet is quiet – you could never tell it is a major seaport – and the Second Narrows train bridge lifts at our request. We slow down to prolong the trip, and the kids take turns being towed in the dinghy, behind the sailboat. As we round the point and come in to Deep Cove, our neighbour on Prairie Otter blasts his horn to welcome us back. We slide in to our slip, and tie up. We are home.

September 1 -- Almost Home

We start out on the last leg of our journey, but in Georgia Strait we discover that the predicted northwest wind is actually southeast (and of course we’re traveling southeast) and the water is rather choppy. The sun is still shining, so why would we fight the wind and waves all day when we don’t have to get home tonight? Instead, we pull in to Smuggler Cove, and spend our last night in the same anchorage in which we spent the first night of the trip. We go ashore for a hike on the trails of this marine park, and Cliff enjoys running into Amanda, a woman he worked with 10 years ago.

Later, we have a delicious barbecued salmon dinner in this peaceful anchorage, with a spectacular starry sky and brilliant phosphorescent water. We throw breadcrumbs to the fish and see their sparkly outlines as they come to snap up the treats. We even flush the heads (into the holding tanks of course) in the dark and watch the lights flash in the plumbing pipes! Yes, yes, we know -- there is not a lot to do on a sailboat at night.

August 30-31 -- Friends at Pender Harbour

We leave Grace Harbour with Tangleberry, bound for Pender Harbour. We can make it home tomorrow with only this one stop, if we choose. It is a beautiful, sunny day, with a northwest wind, and we sail for a few hours. It finally seems as if summer has arrived! It is so nice, in fact, that we radio Tangleberry to let them know we are slowing down to take advantage of the lovely weather for a few more days. They continue on, intent on getting home tomorrow. We pull in to Blind Bay at the entrance to Jarvis Inlet and scout around for a while before dropping the hook in Ballet Bay. Next morning, Cliff makes pancakes before we motor the short distance to Pender Harbour, where we tie up at the VRC outstation dock. It is Labour Day weekend, and we expect it to be crowded, but we have the dock to ourselves for 24 hours. We noticed a sign on the way in inviting boats to tie up and tour the open house in a beautiful development, so we dinghy over for a look. The house we see is a dream—waterfront property with moorage and a view to die for, through arbutus trees and past small islands to Georgia Strait and the Vancouver Island mountains in the distance. Oh, for an extra $1.25M.

Continuing our dinghy trip, we buzz through a narrow channel down to the end of Gunboat Bay , where our friends Richard and Alisa have a lovely summer property. We catch them at the cottage and have a good visit, then Cliff and some other men help Richard put away all the canoes, kayaks, sailing dinghies and other toys for the winter. Winter!! We’ve just found summer! We make a quick sidetrip to the IGA in Madeira Park for groceries, then extend our visit over dinner with Richard and Alisa at the Garden Bay Pub.

August 27-28 -- In Desolation Sound

It’s not a bad day, but there are strong southeast winds in Georgia Strait. We plan to stay in Desolation Sound until the storm blows over, then we will make a beeline for home. We have a leisurely morning and motor over to Refuge Cove for a few groceries. Tangleberry fuels up and finds a floating hamburger stand for lunch, but we hoist the sails and actually sail for a couple of hours to Melanie Cove, where we raft up, barbecue salmon, and play hearts.

In the morning we dinghy ashore and hike with Grahame and Shirley a mile or so up the Unwin Lake trail. It is quite a climb and good exercise after many hours on the boat. We make lots of noise and don’t see any bears—just thick forest, big trees, dense undergrowth, and a peek-a-boo view of the lake.

Later in the day, we motor to Okeover Inlet and anchor out in front of the Laughing Oyster Restaurant, where we have a reservation for dinner. We had hoped to stay at the government dock here, but it is full and not very well protected from the north wind blowing. The rain is coming down hard now, but we suit up and climb in Grahame’s small dinghy for a ride to shore. We are a soggy lot as we arrive at the restaurant, and we wonder if the Laughing Oyster is laughing at us. After a good meal, we return in even harder rain to our boats, up anchor, and move in the near dark to a more protected bay a couple of miles north.

The night is very quiet, but in the morning we hear the flag flapping, indicating that the wind is turning south and we had better move. . This time we sail a short distance to Grace Harbour, a scenic and sheltered spot , where we raft together with Tangleberry on Skylark’s anchor. The bay is quite full with boats waiting out the strong southeasterlies in the forecast. The front comes through around noon with lots of rain, but not much wind in the harbour, and after the storm passes the skies clear to give us a beautiful afternoon. We dinghy ashore to an old homestead site, where we pick blackberries, apples, and plums from an ancient orchard. With plenty of bear scat around, we watch our backs all the time and don’t stay too long. Later, we enjoy Shirley’s delicious fruit cobbler with coffee and a game of hearts on Tangleberry.

August 26 -- Through the Rapids

We have another beautiful, clear, still night, but awake to thick fog. We follow last night’s GPS trail out to the channel, where the fog clears and we zoom along with the flood tide through Wellbore and Green Point rapids. We have to cut the motor and dawdle along for a couple of hours so we don’t arrive much before slack at the stronger Dent and Yuculta rapids. Just before the rapids, we meet Tangleberry , and we travel together the rest of the day. By now the weather has deteriorated, and we have a wet, bumpy ride down Calm Channel, until we turn in at Squirrel Cove, Cortes Island, to raft up, share dinner, and compare notes about our adventures since we parted in Prince Rupert.

August 24-25 Gunkholing in the Broughtons

After a leisurely Sunday morning, we browse around the Broughton Archipelago, a group of islands and islets, mostly low and rocky, We make our way past the fishing resort/marina at Sullivan Bay with its many luxurious floathomes, and Pierre’s Echo Bay Marina where we stop for a chat and a few groceries. Then we continue on to Waddington Bay, a beautiful spot fully enclosed by small islands, where we anchor for the night. Darkness comes early, letting us see a wide expanse of glittering sky crossed by the Milky Way, enhanced by a few magical falling stars. Can this be the first time in three months we’ve actually seen a dark, clear night and a starry sky?

We awake Monday morning to light rain, but no fog, and motor an uneventful 54 miles via Minstrel Island and Chatham Channel. Johnstone Strait is benign, but we are glad to leave it and duck into Sunderland Channel just as the waves start to build. In Forward Harbour, after a couple of unsuccessful tries we get the anchor hooked in 65 feet of water. Cliff will get his upper body exercise tomorrow morning when he cranks up 200 feet of chain!

August 22-23 -- New Friends and a Big Fish in the Broughtons

The weatherman is calling for more strong southeasterlies, so we plan to stay in the Broughtons for a few days. Before we move to a more secure anchorage, we go back to the entrance to Wells Passage and put out the fishing line in the spot where we noticed several boats yesterday. After an hour without a bite, we turn to leave, when suddenly the line jerks and Cliff reels in a lovely 20-pound red spring salmon! What a thrill!

Back at the new anchorage, stern-tied in a tiny cove at the end of Tracey Harbour, Cliff cleans and butchers the fish, and Orma packs the pieces in plastic bags, filling the freezer. With about three pounds of salmon steaks still left, we go bearing gifts to two neighbouring boats.

First , we knock on the side of Teal, a 78-foot restored 1928 Alaska Fisheries Patrol boat. Kit and Carl receive the salmon steaks with great enthusiasm and invite us aboard for a tour. They are new owners of this beautiful classic, lovingly restored and updated, with brass and teak, beams and engines bright and shining.

Next we call on Mike and Lee on Santa Margarita, a Catalina 40 which they have just bought recently after retiring from a fishing career on their seiner, the Bruce Luck (seen in the background on the old Canadian $5.00 bill). Salmon is nothing new to them, but they still seem pleased with the gift.

After a still night, morning brings clouds and rain. We can see the treetops blowing in the wind, but we are well sheltered. Santa Margarita moves into our cove after spending a restless night swinging around farther out in the bay. We dinghy ashore to explore a disused logging site and walk along the logging road, happening upon bear scat and making lots of noise. We find a parked WFP pickup truck, unlocked and ready to go, although it doesn’t appear to have been used recently. Later in the day, we concoct a rice dish to take over to Teal, where we share their freshly-caught crabs and a potluck barbecue, enjoying instant rapport and lots of laughs with the two other couples. It is a sad truth that most cruising friendships begin instantly and end as soon as your routes diverge. We hope that these folks will keep in touch and we can get together again someday.

August 20 - 21 -- Around Cape Caution Again

Our stay at the dock in Shearwater proves comfortable and useful, if a tad expensive. A brief squall blows through overnight, but we are well sheltered. Cliff does some maintenance jobs, I conquer laundry and grocery shopping, we fill up with fuel (we wonder why our tank takes 15 percent more fuel than it should and the 10 litre jug requires over 11 litres to fill?) and we are ready to hit the road again. Grahame and Shirley advise us that groceries and fuel are more reasonable just across the way in Bella Bella. Oh well.

We motor down Fitzhugh Sound in calm weather. A pod of humpback whales in the distance surprises us with a great show of huffing, puffing, and breaching. We motor all the way to Pruth Bay, where we turn right and travel an hour out of our way so we can enjoy some fishing in Hakai Pass and take the trail to the beach tomorrow.

Tomorrow dawns, we hear the weather forecast, and realize that this is the day to round Cape Caution. The next weather window is several days away, so we give away the west coast beach hike and turn on the motor at 6:00 a.m. to start heading south in thick fog.

The fog dissipates as the sun rises and is gone by the time we reach the ocean swells in Queen Charlotte Sound. The mainsail holds the boat fairly steady and we ride a roller coaster for a while. We see more other boats than we have seen for a long time. The flotilla is heading south now and we have caught up with rush hour. A couple of cruise ships appear in the distance, and we remark on how few we have seen during this whole odyssey. We had expected to be dodging them all the time.

Around noon the water smoothes out and we skim past Cape Caution. A whale surfaces very close to the boat – almost close enough to reach out and touch – then dips, surfaces again, and disappears before we have time to be concerned by his proximity. We decide not to cross to Vancouver Island, but stay on the mainland side of the Sound, and eventually after 81 miles, we reach Wells Passage where we find a snug anchorage, make dinner, and go to bed early.