Photo: A sandstone cliff in Tribune Bay with the morning light behind it.

"This is the last time we'll do a book tour by boat," growled Steve after taking a reef in the main for the second time that day.

We were sailing to windward up the Strait of Georgia from Nanaimo to Tribune Bay and things were not going well. All day we'd been tacking back and forth, slamming into short steep seas and fighting an opposing current. Gray skies overhead added to our bad moods. If we hadn't had to be in Comox the next day for a book event at the Comox Library, we would have turned and run for Boho Bay on Lasqueti Island long before.

To make matters worse, this was the first time we'd sailed our new roller-furling head sail in strong winds. And Steve was missing his hank-on sails. Never mind that we would have changed jibs three times already, standing on the foredeck and bouncing up and down in the rough seas. Steve wasn't convinced the roller furling was as effective as our old sails. And even I wasn't happy with its look. Why did the sail have to have to look so puckered when it was partially rolled? Were we doing something wrong?

"Let's go behind Lasqueti, " Steve suddenly announced. "The waves should be less there and we can motor through Sabine Passage" (between Lasqueti and Texada Islands.) "By the time we're out the top, we'll have a clear shot to Tribune Bay." We turned and let the sails out to run downwind. A few minutes later we were motoring north up Sabine Passage. A mistake. The wind still whistled from the north only now the current was even stronger against us and seas even shorter and steeper. The engine rumbled and roared and the boat pitched and heaved, slamming into seas that brought us almost to a stop every few minutes. We would have been better off just rolling up the jib in the middle of the Strait and motoring from there.

Steve was right about one thing though. When eventually we left Sabine Passage and rounded Fegan Rock, we had a straight shot to Tribune Bay. And after what seemed like only a short time, we were in the lee of Hornby Island, shaking out the reef and unrolling the jib all the way, then gliding into Tribune Bay in a decreasing wind.

We anchored off a tall sandstone cliff to the sound of eagles trilling in the trees. The best part of a hard day's sail is coming into a quiet anchorage.