On our way out of Blenkinsop this morning at 7:30a, we see the trimaran sailor working on his boat. The last remaining overnight boat is near him, likely offering transport to the sailor, who opts to stay. We imagine he is trying to repair his well-kept boat so he can continue on. If he's still there at day's end, he'll have another round of overnight neighbors to offer assistance; anchorages with easy access and good shelter are few along this well-traveled route.

Our plan today is to reach Port Hardy, at the top of Vancouver Island. We are determined to get to a market there for produce.

The tide is coming toward us this morning, and will eventually slow our speed as it builds to its max, but at 8:15a, we're moving along nicely at 8.8k. The flood tide, now in agreement with the wind, makes smooth water and easy going.

By mid-morning, we have fresh muffins from the oven and the pleasant conditions continue. In the sunny morning the water and tree-covered mountains are stunning. Let's detour through Blackfish Sound to see if we can find any orcas. That zone had been abundant with orcas until cruise ships made it a common route to transit Johnstone Strait. Today as we skirt its edge to see, no whales disturb the surface with their breathing or motion.

Shortly after noon, we listen to the weather to choose a good weather window to leave Port Hardy and round Cape Caution. But we learn a large gale is headed here, affecting Vancouver Island all the way up through Hecate Strait. We'll need to wait until Saturday to get the same relative calm for the rounding that we have this afternoon. I vote to forget about Port Hardy and get around Cape Caution today. It may get ugly toward evening, but by 8p we should be in protected waters again. We go.

At 3:30p, swells and chop at Knight Island (with about 4 1/2 hours yet to reach protection), swells and chop are not terrible but hint convincingly at possible nausea. I remind myself this was my idea.

At 5:30p, we round Cape Caution and change course, putting the seas more on our port side, but activation of our stabilizers helps. For our heavy boat (we are 120 tons), we opted for oversized stabilizers; 17 sq.ft., rather than the 12 sq.ft. recommended for a lighter 60-foot vessel. They really help, and turn the motion we had into a much happier dance. The swells smacking our port bow throw spray across our windows. Again with the wipers.

At 6:30p, we have 8-foot seas with 30k of wind, as predicted by Environment Canada's forecast. We're eager to reach the lee of Calvert Island. At 7:30p, still short of the island, the wind drops to 11.5k and the swells, whitecaps, and chop are gone; the islets of Cape Calvert give us a shield from the NW weather.

Fifteen minutes later, we're behind the island and into Fitz Hugh Sound's flat water. So nice! Still, the crossing was not as difficult as we thought we might see when we chose to hurry our rounding late in the day to beat a gale.

A late but very comfortable dinner after anchoring in 70 feet in aptly named Safety Cove on Calvert Island. Glad to be here!

As planned, we were gone from Hornby Island this morning at 5:30a and on our way NW to Seymour Narrows.

An hour out...whales! A small group of humpback whales were at a safe but visible distance away to starboard. Breaching, blowing, fins flying. At least two small whales and one or two large ones (two moms and two calves?). Fins and tails smack the water, and--new to me--fins go vertical and parallel as their owner continues through the water....on his back? What a treat to see; they all just seemed to be having fun throwing themselves around out there.

Seymour Narrows is near the town of Campbell River in Discovery Passage. The large highs and lows of the summer tides mean a lot of water moving, which rushes through the Narrows with impressive force. At 9:30 this morning, the flood tide pushed through there at 7.8k. Eleven miles south and and hour later, the tide still pushes plenty of water toward us at the mouth of Discovery Passage. Our speed slows there from 8.3k down to 3.7k. Rapids and swirling currents there converge, tipping us 15 degrees to each side a few times. In the boiling chaos, several humpbacks feed on the churning bounty.

At Seymour Narrows 45 minutes early, we join a few other waiting boats, then we all slide through easily on the slack tide's quiet water. The trees permit no sun between them as they watch us from the islands that hug the Narrows; it's breathtaking to slip past them at that relatively close range.

Knowing strong winds typically blow from the top of Vancouver Island down Johnstone Strait, increasing as the day progresses, we expect choppy uncomfortable conditions riding the now-outgoing tide that will oppose that wind. But the speed assist was too tempting, so we've opted in despite that.

At 1:30p, we're moving along at 11k with 33k of wind on our nose. Small chop and whitecaps, but a relatively comfortable ride still. By 2:30p, the wind is 40k with spray pelting the pilothouse windows. It's sunny, but our windshield wipers are on now. After a bit of relief in the lee of Hardwicke Island, at 4p we have lots of boat motion and heavy spray sheeting down the windshield with the 47.8k wind in our face. We're eager to reach Blenkinsop Bay, our shelter for the night.

Just after 6:30p, we're in the welcome calm of Blenkinsop. We covered a good portion of Johnstone Strait today, giving an excellent boost to our progress north. We usually devote two days to this distance.

At 9:30p, a Norwegian Cruise Line ship lingers in Johnstone Strait, creeping slowly toward Seymour Narrows to meet the 12:40a slack. It looks so peaceful to see the ship sitting easily out there in the dusk with its lights twinkling in front of the green mountain backdrop just beyond.

At 10:30p the radio alarm woke Tim. A distress alert. A trimaran...half filled with water....Johnstone Strait...Blenkinsop Bay! Searching the darkness with binoculars and piecing together the radio updates, Tim found the trimaran as it had reported itself--its anchor struggled ashore and the boat winched up on the shoreline rocks. They were shaken, but safe.

Out of Whaler's Cove this morning at 8a in pouring rain, we're off to Nanaimo for fresh produce.

We're hoping our past difficulties with Nanaimo will not be repeated today since we know how to avoid the sea plane "runway," we don't need to wiggle down an aisle of docked boats to check into Customs there, and the tiny space allotted as an anchorage for people like us (who prefer the simplicity of anchoring) will not be too crowded at midday this early in the summer season.

We were there an hour. In heavy rain we found the anchorage too restrictive for us (we put down the hook to know this), checked the distance to the market, the location of a suitable dinghy dock, and got plenty wet just getting the straps off the dinghy to free it from its cradle. Deciding the entire plan was simply ridiculous, we reversed it all and are now back out in the Strait of Georgia, happy to NOT go to the market. We'll look for Plan B.

The Gulf Island chain is long. Finding an anchorage that will position us well for tomorrow's route and also guard us from tonight's predicted 25k NW winds took some time. But we finally settled on Hornby Island, entering its calm protection just after 5p.

An hour after we're settled, the sailboat MAX from La Rochelle arrives flying the French flag. It anchors next to us while we admire its sleek attractive exterior and efficient cruising capability, imagining what the young couple aboard has experienced since they left their home port on the west coast of France.

Noticing tomorrow's 12:36p slack at Seymour Narrows, before going to sleep we agree to get up and out of this anchorage by 5:30a to be there. We can either go through the Narrows then or not, depending on our morning. We'll see.

We were out of Friday Harbor this morning, later crossing the border into Canada at 12:30p. Next stop, the Bedwell Harbour Customs dock.

When last we stopped here last (2017), we spent two hours waiting on the dock as the gentlemen from Customs went through every crevice of our boat. We're expecting the same today. We tried our best, but the AIR website for Canadian Customs strictures was so detailed we could discern nothing clearly. But we could tell there were prohibitions on meat and poultry if it's no longer in its original packaging to show origin. So I spent two days cooking all the unlabeled raw meat we have aboard. I hope that works out for them. And we made a detailed inventory to hand to them.

At 1p we were tied up at the Customs dock. And at 1:30p we were gone!

They said no one needed to board our vessel because we have a record of honesty with Canadian Customs and because we handed them a very detailed list of items we thought they might care about, including quantity of each and where it's located aboard (in case we were put out on the dock again). They said, "We wish everyone made a list like this." Good to know!

Giddy at our time savings through Customs, we celebrated with mugs of hot chocolate as we rounded up the west side of Pender Island. About ten minutes into that, here came a fast-moving RIB with lights flashing and uniformed officials waving us down. From the Canadian National Parks Service. We were told we should have known by our navionics that we had illegally entered a whale protection zone that extends a half-mile off Pender's west shore for a mile. Nothing is shown of this zone on our freshly-updated electronic charts.

They took our boat and personal information and then gave us a clear warning and the news that we "may hear more of this incident from the federal officials." They gave us information showing the designated zone. We looked; we were 100 feet inside the line. We added rum into the hot chocolate.

Leaving the Gulf Islands, we were out into the Strait of Georgia through Active Pass at 3:15p, we need a market to get some fresh items we had avoided buying before going through Customs. Nanaimo is a likely spot, but too far for today. So we ducked quickly into Whaler's Cove and anchored there.

A pretty little cove with homes sparsely posted in the trees along the shore, we dropped our hook in the center of the cove. Open completely to the Strait on the north side, the cove is snugly protected from the 5-15k south winds expected tonight. We felt secure putting out 150 feet of rode in the 40 foot depth.