We left Port McNeil in torrential rain, minus Flora and Dan who had jumped ship, to continue on their way with a hire car, all set to do lots of walking.
The Broughton Archipelago lies just 15 miles across the Queen Charlotte Strait from Port McNeil, and would be a fascinating cruising ground to explore with Mike and Laurian.
The rain and visibility cleared, and soon we were looking at lots of whales, one obligingly breached for us! We had been collecting place names of islands, straits, and coves which matched family members ever since we had been in Canada! Captain Vancouver was obviously out to please everyone, and that day gave us Meynell Point, and we spent the night in Joe Cove (it turns out that Joe was a rather belligerent ‘First Nation’ chap who had lived there in the early 1900s!)
Next day the sun was set high in the sky again, and we decided to call on Echo Bay, where there is a small marina, and some tourism, but it offered the chance of a walk to what sounded an interesting and eclectic museum, a collection of all sorts of items from beautifully fashioned stone tools and implements, 2,000 years old, to a large glass fishing float that would have travelled across the North Pacific from Japan, without being smashed on the rugged rocky coasts of either country, to artefacts from Japan and China brought into Canada and Alaska by the many workers in the canneries, and gold mines. Billy Proctor, now in his 80s was sitting in the sunshine outside his collection, he clearly enjoyed talking about his life in the area, fishing and logging, and Laurian kindly gave me his book, which has added enormously to our understanding of life in these beautiful, remote islands.
We were beginning to get used to the fact of sharing anchorages almost everywhere we went now that we were in ‘home counties cruising areas’ so to try and do the less obvious we went up the long Simoom Sound, and were treated by a stunning display of Pacific white sided dolphins, in very convivial mood as they darted across our bow, and leapt in tandem for us, and one persistently leapt for pure joy skywards, which amazingly I managed to capture on camera!
One of the reasons for going up this long bay was the promise of a trail to a lake, but our attempts to find it were painfully unsuccessful, we tried fighting our way upwards through the forested valley, but became increasingly hindered by fallen trees, and even rotting ones that you could just push over, it was a good reminder of how incredibly harsh life had been for those early settlers, and that canoes and sea travel were an easier option! There were bear prints on the foreshore where we landed, and Laurian was soon telling us about cougars leaping from trees and biting people’s necks!
Still in search of a walk we moved up to the head of the bay, and spotted what appeared to be a logging trail. This proved semi successful, until the trail ran out, but it was marked by coloured ribbons, which continued steeply up to a plateau, which Giles and I climbed.
We got back on board very hot and sweaty, and both Mike and Giles decided to swim, I’m not sure I would have joined them, I had seen rather a lot of lion’s mane jellyfish, but my excuse was that I had already had a shower! They both stayed in some time, so I can only believe that it truly was warmish!!
We had read that in Watson Bay (not named after Dan) you could do a scramble to see a 1,000 year old cedar tree, we attempted to fish on the way, but to no avail. Watson Bay proved to be only a lunch time stop, as the wind had picked up from the west, and was funnelling down the cove. We conveniently landed on a smooth boulder supplied with a rope for pulling yourself up, and then did our short walk to the ancient cedar, whose trunk has a diameter of about 15m.
Kwatsi Bay, just around the corner is well sheltered from all directions, the tiny marina allowed us to fill up with fresh potable water which comes straight from the mountains behind, via a few filters. We anchored in the stunning circular bay, where we added line to the anchor chain to cope with the depth. Mountains soar above you, it was very spectacular, and Mike got the sextant out to work out the height of the tallest mountain, about 1,000 feet he thought, but they looked taller to me.
Working out a few tides was becoming increasingly important for our onward leg, passages narrowed and heads of water build up to give fast tides that we had no desire to fight. Our route took us down the dramatic Tribune Channel, where the high walls of the fjord mountains plunged down thousands of feet beneath us, and snow-capped peaks peeped between the valleys.
We sailed across Thompson Sound, into Chatham Channel, and had 2 knots of good tide to help us through the Narrows, although once again we lost the wind behind the mountains. After joining the next wider channel there was a pretty though tight anchorage behind a small island at Matilpi, there was already a yacht there and just room for us too.
Next morning was an early and dark 04.30 start, dawn took its time in climbing behind the mountains, but pink edged clouds as well as mare’s tails told us of wind to come and an approaching low. This was an excellent reason to be scurrying on to catch the fast flowing Johnstone Strait while it was still in benign mode, it has a horrid reputation with wind against tide.
The Johnstone Strait is a narrow 70 mile channel which separates Vancouver Island from the mainland and from a network of islands and fast flowing channels, which end in the Discovery Passage and the Straits of Georgia, where Vancouver Island and the mainland become more widely separated.
Our option was to either carry on and do the Johnstone Strait and the very fast flowing but well predicted Seymour Narrows, or to do the inland route through islands and narrow passes and passages, where there are several ‘rapids’ to be negotiated and timing of tides becomes critical. It sounded more of a challenge and an altogether more interesting option, with the added advantage of no commercial traffic.
We had to do 12 miles of the Johnstone Strait regardless, and then turned into the Sunderland and Wellborne Channels, and got through the Whirlpool Rapids with no problem on about slack water. We knew we would have to wait for Green Point rapids, so anchored in a bay very nearby, to have a snooze after our early start, and lunch, before negotiating the rapids at slack water.
Mike and Laurian had yet to see a bear on this trip, but finally when we woke from our siestas, there was a brown bear wandering along the beach, digging furiously, obviously in search of a favourite mollusc. He obligingly was in no hurry, so everyone had a great viewing.
Green Point Rapids were behind us, and there was a strong wind forecast for the evening from the NW, which seemed to have scuppered my plan for an anchorage that night, but when we sailed past Shoal Bay, 12 hours after leaving in the morning, we saw a very pretty, sheltered bay with NW protection, though open to the North, and lots of boats tied up to a dock there.
It was an irresistible lure, and we rafted up outside another yacht, in stunning sunshine, at what looked like an alpine retreat. It is extraordinary how appealing a bit of cut grass and clearing from the never ending trees becomes.
All the boats were ashore for a ‘Happy Hour’, which we joined in at 1700, normally a bit early for a drink, but it had been a very long day, and there was wifi on offer, the first for a week!
However, the sun was still shining, and a glass of wine (or beer) later, Giles and I set off for a hike up the Goldmine Trail, allegedly an hour, one way. We made fast work of it on a rugged climb, and were rewarded by a lovely view down to the bay where we were moored, and were back to Brother Wind a couple of hours later.
We could have stayed longer to admire the vegetables growing which felt very nostalgic, but next day we had to set off to negotiate two more rapids, where even the chart gets carried away with dire warnings of 13 knots and whirlpools. We were at a neap tide, and judging by the number of other boats moving at the same time as us, we were spot on slack water, which lasts for only a few minutes, for both the Dent and Yaculta Rapids.
Such potential excitement brought us into Calm Passage, and a fair tide swept us on past Reid Island, and up the Sutil Channel dodging rocks as we sailed, again slowly determined to catch that elusive salmon, towards our anchorage NW of tiny Bold Island, on Quadra Island, where we sailed into the bay skirting rocks, and dropped anchor under sail.
A walk beckoned, and we found our first road and cars for a week, but also found a fresh water lake where we swam in warm shallow water!
We had to have rain some time, but it fell at night and into the morning, but cleared as we made a late start to go south around Mudge Point. What we had hoped to do was catch a salmon, but in the event we were treated to the most extraordinary sight of humpback whales breaching, not once or twice but over a period of half an hour probably fifty times, none of us managed to catch anything except huge splashes on camera, but never mind, the sight is enough to stay in our heads forever!
By the time we reached Campbell River, and got into the Fisherman’s Wharf Marina, the sun was hot, and we have organised a hire car and last minute accommodation for a couple of night away to get across Vancouver Island to Tofino on the west coast. Mike and Laurian will leave us on our return from there on Sunday. Lets hope the weather holds!