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| 2009 CRUISE REPORT, WEEK SEVEN
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July 14, 2009.
This hurts. As noted in the Updates column, after much figuring, calculating, arguing possibilities and considering the costs of turning back, last week Marilynn and I pointed the bow south. We were at Shearwater, the narrow neck of the hourglass for boats bound north or south on British Columbia’s Inside Passage. Shearwater is where boats re-fuel, re-provision, and re-stock the liquor locker. It’s where repairs are made and laundry done. It’s where boat cooks can have a decent dinner out. It’s where we gave up.
“Gave up” is too strong a term. High winds had held us at least a week in the Broughtons, and we were badly behind schedule. We looked at the miles ahead and the time left, and made a very close call that we wouldn’t be able to do it all. We’re asking our readers to provide reports on Klemtu, Butedale, Hartley Bay, Kitimat and Prince Rupert, and anything else that differs from the 2009 Waggoner.
We turned south but we’re not happy about it. One of the Waggoner’s strengths has been our relentless, year-after-year personal visits to the important towns and facilities covered by the book. Fortunately, the stops we won’t make this year are important to only a small percentage of our readership, and with the help of our friends, even those stops will be up-to-date and informative. I know I’m over-reacting. That’s good. I should over-react.
On a much more positive note, Marilynn wants the Kisameet Islands listing removed from the Waggoner. The night we turned south we anchored in the little cove at the northeast corner of these islands, islands snugged up against the side of King Island, a few miles south of Codville Lagoon, a short distance north of Burke Channel. It’s a wonderful, protected, scenic little cove, with a stream that empties into it from a lake above. Marilynn wants that cove all for herself, no one else. Her wish is understood, but cannot be honored.
For a ghost town, change keeps happening at Ocean Falls. The Updates column notes that Sally and Joe Isaaksen have sold their house and moved to Vancouver Island. Neil McLachlan is the new wharfinger. A crew has been at Ocean Falls since spring, dismantling the old pulp and paper mill and dealing with asbestos and other naughty substances. The bridge connecting the town with the mill washed out last winter. The town has no record of building the bridge, and neither does the province. Crown Zellerbach probably built it, a long time ago. Since no one owns the bridge, no one will repair it. A series of floats now connects the town with the mill. The dismantling crew walks to work across the floats.
For visiting boaters, the loss of the bridge equates to the loss of the Ocean Falls garbage dump, over by the mill. Recycle bins are located next to the Shack, where Neil McLachlan collects the moorage. Anything the fish or crabs can eat is to be put where the fish or crabs can get it.
Ocean Falls water is superb. We fill our tanks there.
Jean and Wayne Bowerman are in their third year as dock managers at Shearwater, and they’re a treat. Wayne is friendly and helpful, but is happy to keep to himself. Not so Jean. She’ll soon be your new best friend. Jean knows where boats are supposed to go and brooks no nonsense about it, but once you’re there, she’ll help you in and make you feel mighty welcome. If you’re lucky and nice, you may get a chance to buy one of Jean’s pies. She makes them only when things are slow. Given the opportunity, say yes.
Supper in the restaurant was quite good. The chief cook is a Filipino named Pi. His seafood chowder won raves from several people on the docks, so we got some to go. Marilynn doesn’t like seafood chowder, but I think it’s terrific. Don’t think of clam chowder; think of a hearty soup/stew combination.
History has a funny way of rearing up on this coast. A beautiful 50-plus-foot Selene is named Chatham II. Over dinner at the Shearwater restaurant, we learned the boat was named for the wife’s great-great-great-something grandfather, Lt. (Leftenant) Cdr. William R. Broughton, commander of the armed tender HMS Chatham¸ part of Capt. Vancouver’s 1792 explorations of the B.C. coast. Leftenant Broughton’s Chatham was only a little longer than the Chatham II, but had a complement of about 75 men. The Chatham II has a complement of two. Later, the owners of Jesse James, a 28-foot aluminum Eagle Craft, told us a woman had stopped and taken several pictures of the boat. The woman said she was a descendant of Jesse James, the railroad robber, himself. The current owners of the boat don’t know why or how it got its name.
In Week Six I told about the dreadful seas northbound between Allison Harbour and Cape Caution. Things were different on the way south. Our Cape Caution crossing was without wind and with very low swells. We went by way of Pine Island and stopped for the night at the Quarterdeck Marina at Port Hardy. A large and lovely boat was on the hard up in the repair yard. We were told it had tried to move an island in Seymour Inlet. Props, shafts, strut, hull damage. A vacation ruined.
Serious sport fishermen make Port Hardy their headquarters. We saw tubs of salmon, halibut, rock fish and ling cod loaded out of boats and onto the cleaning tables.
When I was in Port Hardy by car last May I had a breakfast at Capt. Hardy’s, an eatery in the middle of town. With that as background, I suggested that Marilynn and I have breakfast there on this trip, since we wanted to buy groceries nearby anyway. Marilynn wasn’t prepared for Capt. Hardy’s. We ordered a single Hardy’s breakfast, two plates. Each of us got scrambled eggs, bacon, hash brown potatoes, and one thick pancake about the size of a Frisbee. One order, split between us, and neither of us could finish. We skipped lunch and had dinner at 6:30. If you’re in Port Hardy, give Capt. Hardy’s a try. Don’t worry if the tables are full. They turn often, although I don’t know how anyone who finishes a complete Hardy’s breakfast with two Frisbee-size pancakes could move afterward.
Yesterday we crossed Queen Charlotte Strait from Port Hardy on Vancouver Island to the Fife Sound entry on the mainland side, a three-to-four hour crossing at 8.5 knots. There was no wind. Aha, you say, a great crossing. Well, yes, but with qualification. We had no wind, but also no vision. It was pea-soup fog all the way. The radar showed “targets” of other vessels, and even showed the Numas Islands when we were less than one-quarter mile off but couldn’t see them with our eyes. Electronic charts tied to GPS plotted our exact location as we moved along. Comox Traffic’s VHF channel 71 kept us posted on heavy marine traffic coming and going (fortunately, there was little). But we were tired when we got to Fife Sound. It’s tough to keep concentration when all around is solid gray.
The fog conceded temporary defeat when it met land, and we broke into sunlight when we got into the Fife Sound channel. Streaks of fog tried to penetrate, but faded to nothing the farther they went. Our hoped-for destination was Lady Boot Cove, a local name for a small but reportedly beautiful anchorage on the northeast corner of Eden Island. The descriptions are correct. The anchorage is beautiful and small. It also held three boats. One was at the mouth of the anchorage, stern-tied to shore. Two others were swinging at anchor inside. A dinghy from one of those two boats came out and showed us the shallow places along the shore to avoid, and we found a suitable spot to put the hook down. All of us were on short scope, but the bottom was good and the wind was light. Before dark the fog made a last effort to take over. It swirled over the tree-covered hills and wafted around the bay. By morning it had retreated to low cloud cover where we were, still down on the deck out on the strait.
We’re tied up tonight at Port Harvey Marine Resort, with two boats from Ladner. The café wasn’t operating when we visited on our way north in June, but George and Gail Cambridge, the owners, have it running now. Their daughter, who is up for the summer, had a commitment “outside,” and wasn’t here to cook, so George and Gail did the duties, albeit with an abreviated menu of hamburgers or pizza. They also had cinnamon buns, fresh from the oven.
We’re tied up here because Port Harvey is a natural jumping-off location for an early morning run down Johnstone Strait to Sunderland Channel and either Forward Harbour or Whirlpool Rapids. With its extensive store, good docks and café, the new marina is owned by the right people, doing the right thing at the right place at the right time. I think they’ll be an important addition to the area.
Assuming the fresh westerly blowing this evening dies overnight, we will set off after 0500 to be early for the turn at Whirlpool Rapids. With luck we’ll get all the way to the Octopus Islands in Desolation Sound by the end of the afternoon tomorrow, a long day.
Usually, I like to let these reports sit for a day or two, so I can go through and refine the sentences, delete some things, add others. Please pardon the lack of smoothness. This one has to go tonight.v
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