June 28,  2012 - We are tethered dockside at Dawson's Landing. With yesterday's favorable wind and tides, we could not pass up the chance to make the long run wing and wing down Fisher Channel from Ocean Falls (7+ knots most of the way). The trade off was missing the sail and fishing down the outside, but weather had turned a bit snotty out there so perhaps all was for the best. We will have to save a visit to Kayak Cove and the amazing fishing grounds around the Goose Group on the outside for another trip. But many thanks to Jim at Ocean Falls for sharing very detailed sailing and fishing directions which give me great confidence that we will return to that area as soon as we can.

This morning we will fuel up here at Dawson's as soon as they open and then make for Fly Basin.  Fly is what is termed locally as a "bomb proof"anchorage, excellent protection in all storm conditions. We will anchor at Fly Basin poised to scoot around Cape Caution like a bad dog on a good carpet. Sorry for that, it just seemed appropriate as the whole while we may have a nervous look, be moving as fast as possible and feel we are getting away with something.

Church and Former Restaurant at Ocean Falls

Ocean Falls "Fork in the Road"

Walking through the old town site of Ocean Falls forces one to consider the vulnerability of individuals and communities to their local economies. Overgrown lanes lead to now absent homesites which overlooked this pastoral mountain setting. Some buildings survived like the green roofed church while most others are in the process of being devoured by natural elements and some vandalism.

Signage at Ocean Falls

At the top of the dock ramp at Ocean Falls one may find all the critical directions necessary.

Ocean Falls

The water of Links lake pours over the dam at Ocean Falls. Abandoned mill buildings and homes lie in ghost ruins below the dam.

Ocean Falls

The town of Ocean Falls has a fascinating but somewhat sorrowful history. Once Ocean Falls was a thriving community of 5000 inhabitants with the Province's second largest mill and a source of hydroelectric power to supply electricity to surrounding communities. In the 1970s the owner of the mill closed down operations, the Province attempted to take over but also gave up and the town was mostly abandoned. Quaint homes nestled in a gorgeous mountain setting with a tennis club, olympic swimming pool and terraced alpine gardens were bulldozed under.  At least most homes were destroyed before the remaining inhabitants stood in front of the dozers to prevent the total destruction of all buildings...and so Ocean Falls was left.  Half destroyed, mostly abandoned and soon decaying in the harsh BC coastal environment. Now a few folks eke out a living by supporting a modest cruising destination as well as providing food and lodging for loggers working in the area...and there is the dam to operate which still supports the communities of Bella Bella and Shearwater. I am fairly certain, if not already done, there is a rich opportunity for a documentary piece on the past present and future of Ocean Falls.

Crabbing

Austin bailed large volumes of water from the dinghy in preparation for dropping the crab trap in Alston Cove. Our expectations were high with the juicy remains of a nice red snapper for bait.

Crab legs

We were not disappointed by crabbing in Alston Cove.  Seven crab in ten hours. Three over nine inches across the shell. We dropped our trap in thirty feet of water about fifty feet from a rock strewn but grassy shore and 100 feet from our anchor at a plus ten tide which would drop about eight feet by morning.

Aspens

Amidst the millions of acres of pines, an occasional stand of aspens adds a splash a lighter green. These trees lined the narrow fairway as we entered Alston Cove. We backtracked from Bay of Plenty further up Laredo Inlet when a williwaw struck and we decided more protection from weather would make for a better nights sleep. We would miss the plentiful crabbing in Bay of Plenty, but Alston Cove would show us that crabs abound up and down Laredo.

Gillen Harbour

 At anchor in Gillen Harbour of the Estevan Group. Gillen offers excellent protection in all conditions with good mud and sand bottom. Estevan Group boldly sits exposed to Hecate Strait and is known for its abundant fish life. We would appreciate both the protection and the fish.

Head of Gillen Harbour

Remains of Cannery at Lowe Inlet

A once thriving cannery at the head of Lowe Inlet has long since been abandoned.  Reflections from the remaining pilings tell of a past sense of order and strength.  Lack of foresight for managing a once flourishing fisheries is depicted by the space above the weathered timbers.

Bald Eagle

A very healthy bald eagle watches patiently for surfacing fish as low tide creates shallows near the drying flats of Lowe Inlet

Verney Falls

 Austin gets a close look at Verney Falls at the head of Lowe Inlet during high tide.

Lowe Inlet

A rare warm day in June at Lowe Inlet. Our anchorage was across the bay beneath the snow capped peak.

Austin at Verney Falls Lowe Inlet

We packed spinning gear and the boat horn (bear horn) for our hike around Verney Falls up Kumowdah River to Lowe Lake. The fairly non-existent trail made for tough going as we dropped out onto a rock ledge overlooking the falls. We clamored boulders and reentered the thick woods close to the falls when I came upon a hollow under a huge fir. A small car could fit in the hollow and the ground was well padded down.  I slowly turned and retraced my steps back to Austin who queried my concern. I said, "No need to run but lets call this hike done". There had been an account of another hiker coming across a bear den while traversing the falls and I believe we discovered his path".

 Ogden Channel

We weighed anchor 5:30am in Crap Trap Cove, after collecting our empty crab trap (blamed on lack of adequate bait). Our destination - Lowe Inlet by way of Ogden and Grenville Channels. On approach to Grenville, we knew we would be in for fog navigation.  Ogden was socked in and visibility rapidly decreased to a disorienting few feet. We relied on chart plotter, AIS and radar to keep our bearing along the shore and out of ship traffic.  Austin was on bow watch and the boat horn at ready. It was a relief to emerge from the fog into Grenville.

Lone Wolf

Austin with Spotting Scope

Early morning June 21st, Austin spies a wolf cruising the drying flats behind our anchorage at Lowe Inlet. Wolves have been know to frequent this area, as well as the grizzlies that come to feed on spawning salmon leaping the falls at high tide. Although anchoring directly in the current of the falls is possible, we chose to drop our hook in the adjacent bay, within one hundred meters.

Halibut - 30lb

We slowed along the southern tip of Secret Cove on the western shore of Porcher Island and dropped a 10oz crippled herring lure to 70 feet. Then with a great deal of commotion in the cockpit we were able to hoist this fine fish aboard.

Islet North of Dundas Island

Early morning light played on the glassy sea as we exited Brundige Inlet and headed south through Caamano Passage.  We would sail later down the outside in Hecate Strait to Welcome Harbour on Porcher Island.

Brundige Inlet, Dundas Island

Reached Alaskan Border

We crossed into Alaska north of Dundas Island, snapped a corny photo and turned for secure anchorage in Brundige Inlet on Dundas - safe from everything except the flies. We would batten down the hatches early in the eve and take refuge down below.  We weighed anchor in the morning before the flies awoke!

We have been "off grid" for a week or more, exploring the "outside", as they say here. That's the outside of the Inside Passage. The side of the islands, islets and reefs exposed to Dixon Entrance and Hecate Strait. The side that sees fewer cruisers and just the more bold local fishermen who possess the local knowledge about the local uncharted rocks. We have zigzagged southward going outside then ducking back up some remote inlets and back then to the coast logging many miles and unforgettable experiences.

The following Posts are a quick look back over the past nine days, starting where we left off in Prince Rupert - June 17, 2012
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Yesterday, we “slept in” more by accident than design. I reached for the smart phone leaning back against the forward bulkhead cradled in the narrow, cupped teak shelf. The bright crisp white digital numbers sharply displayed 7:00AM. Hmmm… my biological hard drive slowly whirred trying to process the meaning of these numbers. Oh yah, that’s the time we wanted to be at the fuel dock in order to catch the big outgoing ebb. I let my head settle back into the soft warm pillow and began randomly processing various bits of information collected during the past 24 hours. I listened.  No rain sounded on the coach roof. Will there be fog today? Are we going to head out late and try to reach the US border?  What will Tiger shoot on the final day of the US Open? I couldn’t even grip a golf club today. How do my damaged fingers feel? I held up my left hand for examination. Looks OK. But damn, why does my back hurt now? Guess I’ll get up and start moving the muscles. Coffee. Hope there’s time for coffee. Hey, it’s Father’s Day. That’s good. Whatever we do today, it’s Father’s Day.

En route to the galley stove, I peered out the glassed window of middle weatherboard in the gangway. The fuel dock was already jammed with fishing trawlers and a couple more working boats impatiently treaded water nearby. Austin stirred in the aft bunk. “Hey, it’s 7, what do you think?”, I relayed the first data of the day.  Within moments Austin nose was an inch from the glassed weatherboard looking at the crowded fuel dock. He blinked a few times trying to clear his sleepy view through the slightly fogged window. “It’s still OK, probably just the morning rush. We can get in by 8:30, out by 9 and still catch a push north.” Austin’s optimism was always refreshing and he was usually spot-on correct in the matters of anything logistical. We would go for the border today.

My father was a man of few words. But I recall him saying with some conviction, “It’s useful to have goals”. In my life, I’ve probably sailed downwind more than he would have approved of, but occasionally I get a destination in mind that requires some tacking back and forth. Yet sometimes, arriving seems only briefly satisfying and maybe a bit anticlimactic. In hindsight, the journey with heartfelt ambition was more significant. Knowing my dad, I’m pretty sure that was his point. Thus, perhaps genetically or otherwise inclined, within our journey northward to “new horizons”, at least as a worthy side note, Austin and I have had a goal in mind – reach and cross the US border between Alaska and Canada by sailboat from Seattle. Not a huge goal certainly by most sailing logs but a goal nevertheless. A goal that required a team, that revealed dependencies work both ways, each member relying on the other in various capacities, that allowed a strengthening of bond between father and son. On June 17, 2012 at 4:30 PM PDT, we sailed across the border just north of Dundas Island on an easterly approach to Dixon Entrance. Thirteen days after leaving Bainbridge, eleven travel days, six hundred and twenty five nautical miles, seven degrees of latitude north and eight degrees of longitude west. We reached our goal…and by coincidence, on Father’s Day.

Cow Bay Prince Rupert

Across from the Yacht Club, Cowpuccinos coffee shop, Opa Sushi and a butcher and custom meat shop around the far corner. Another couple of blocks leads to Safeway where we restocked on milk, juice and fresh produce...and boxes of cookies. The people of cow town are friendly and energetic. This could be any small college town's hangout district, on a small scale. Opa's may be the freshest and finest quality sushi ever to slide down my gullet.

Prince Rupert Yacht and Rowing Club - 1930

Prince Rupert Rowing and Yacht Club

Smile's

Enjoying the weather break, we took to shore for a walkabout in the local area surrounding the waterfront. The Atlin Terminal, adjacent to PRR&YC, has been developed in support of cruise tourism with a B&B and gift shops.  The historical establishments such as Smile's and the nearby Breakers Pub offer the old ambience of the fishing harbor. Within a couple of blocks there is a BC Historical Museum which for $6 one may spend easily one hour or more studying and appreciating the historical culture of native inhabitants and the impact of the fur traders and others that came into their tribal lands. Well worth the visit.

Container Ship at Anchor - Prince Rupert

The rain poured on into the lazy Saturday at Cow Bay in Prince Rupert Harbour. Very few signs of human activity could be seen save for the random coming and going at the Petro Canada fuel dock aft of our berth in the Prince Rupert Yacht and Rowing Club. The immediate vicinity on shore offers a quaint coffee shop, Cowpuccinos and a long established pub, The Breakers. One takes you to noon and the other sees you through the balance of the day, provided no other orders of business call. We took coffee and a bagel at Cowpuccinos but retired to Ohana for planning purposes:
Tentative Itinerary (subject to whims and weather):
June 17 (Day 13): Prince Rupert to cross border and return to Brundige on Dundas Island
June 18 (Day 14): North tip Porcher Island
June 19 (Day 15): South tip Porcher Island
June 20 (Day 16): Lowe Inlet off Grenville Channel (waterfall anchorage)
June 21 (Day 17): Estevan Group (fishing)
June 22 (Day 18): Surf Inlet (Spirit Bear sightings)
June 23 (Day 19): Saint Johns (fishing)
June 24 (Day 20): Ellerslie Lake (best falls in NA per Don and Reanne Hemingway, dinghy to lagoon)
June 25 (Day 21): Ocean Falls (crabbing, unlimited fresh water, free internet with very low dock fee, resupply)
June 26 (Day 22): Namu (salmon running up inlet)
June 27 (Day 23): Smith Sound (staging for rounding Cape Caution)
June 28 (Day 24): Sullivan Bay (golf for slip fee and a "hi" to marina manager)
June 29 (Day 25): Blind Channel
June 30 (Day 26): Cortez Island
July 1 (Day 27): Hornby Island
July 2 (Day 28): Roche Harbor (US Customs)
July 3 (Day 29): James Island
July 4 (Day 30): Bainbridge

Cirrus "Horse Tails" 

We exited Baker Inlet through fog shrouded Watts Narrow (seen in the valley of the dark hills on the left of the scene, above). Within six hours, the storm would hit. Hecate Strait would register a Storm Warning status with 48 knot sustained winds and gusts to 59 knots. Seas would build ten fold in 12 hours from 0.5 meter to 5 meters. We would be safely to the protection of Prince Rupert with Austin's excellent weather predicting and planning skills. I should point out that Austin's forecast was accurate from three days prior and that official predictions progressively came around to nearly match but still fell short on the timing and ferocity. Well done Austin!

All was not uneventful in Baker Inlet. The windlass would exact its toll. The pain has finally eased this evening so I am going to bed and will tell the story tomorrow. Beware the windlass.

Sleep was welcome, deep and sound. The storm howled through the rigging and Ohana bucked and pulled at her dock lines. Two spring lines aft were taught and holding.  We slept.

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Next morning:

Appreciation of this next excerpt from our voyage calls for a brief anatomical review and functional description of a windlass. A windlass is a metallic monster that squats near the bow of the boat and eats chain and growls fiercely. Not even a grizzly would dare mess with this beast. But this creature can be tamed and its chain devouring passion harnessed for practical purposes. Mechanically, the windlass is a powerful pulley with deep teeth seated in a steel drum that can rotate in either direction, and hoist or deploy hundreds of pounds of chain and anchor. An electric motor with wrenching torque is operated by a capable seaman often with foot controls mounted on the deck near the windlass. Oh, and one more thing, the foot controls are equipped with hard covers that are lifted back exposing the working switch which is activated by applying pressure, typically by stepping on and depressing the switch with one’s foot. Use of the foot ensures that the operator’s hands, clothing, hair etc. are safely away from the turning drum, or gypsy.

Now you may be getting a sense of where this is going…and it’s not pretty. Warning, the following description is for mature audiences only. We arrived at the head of Baker Inlet near 7:30PM and were going to share the mountainous amphitheater with a fellow boater from Washington State. A trawler, Skylark, from Bellingham hailed us on VHF16. We switched to CH83 and had a friendly chat about cruising plans, favorite destinations and finally wishing each other safe voyage at sign off. This call occurred after our anchor was deployed but not before the chain was secured for the night.  I returned to the bow, kneeled between the “up” and “down” foot controls each with protective cover in the lifted position. This next move is critical as it involves grabbing the chain in front of the windlass, pulling a very small amount of slack and fitting a “chain stop” in the crotch of one link. The “chain stop” is a two inch square piece of tapered stainless steel that swivels on a half-inch steel pin mounted slightly above the chain and forward of the windlass. Its job is to transfer the weight of the chain and anchor to its point of contact on the one link, thus relieving the windlass of unnecessary and potentially damaging strain. More than 150 feet of 5/8 HT chain was deployed so obtaining slack required more than I could muster in a kneeling position.  With left hand still ahold of the chain, I shifted to my feet for leverage. My right foot landed firmly on the “up” control and what happened next, happened so fast that I don’t recall whether I lifted my foot or that my left hand being sucked into and jamming the gypsy stopped the motor. A moment of shock and I quickly used my left foot to depress the “down” control and the monstrous teeth released my hand. I kneeled there staring at my gloved hand.  It hurt. Reluctantly, I carefully removed the heavily padded leather glove and examined the damage. One finger was missing a nickel-sized piece of flesh at the most distal knuckle.  About one-third of the adjacent tip of the little finger was ripped back and deep. The bone on the palm at the base of the little finger was gashed to the white where a link had pressed through a double layer of glove leather to cut through the skin nearly to the bone. That was a bad one. Irritated, disgusted with my carelessness and worried about first aid, I capped the controls, inserted the “chain stop” and headed aft to inform Austin that I needed to work on my hand. Cleaning, disinfecting and finally applying Activ-Flex, wound sealing bandages with Austin’s help, I then poured a generous glass of scotch, at least three fingers worth.

Takeaways – respect your windlass. It eats chain for a main course and will gladly eat flesh appetizers. Its jaws are at least as powerful as a grizzly bear with teeth to match. Always, always cap the foot controls before working forward of or around the windlass. Wear gloves, they can save you when you do stupid things.  There are probably more lessons to reflect upon but I’m getting hungry. Think I’ll slice up some fruit.  Wish the boat would quit rocking…

Watts Narrow Entrance from Greenville Channel 

Southbound in Watts Narrow

"Securite, securite, securite. Forty foot sail southbound Watts Narrow". Watts Narrow is just that - narrow.  Only 200 feet across and twisty, it can be doubly exciting when it's misty. Depths are 100 to 200 feet with steep sides. Use of the VHF radio alert on CH16 as well as one blast from the horn are considered good form when transiting these narrows. The slack lasts five minutes and the currents can exceed 5 knots with rips. But Baker Inlet is well worth the effort.

Baker Inlet 5AM

Head of Baker Inlet

Spring Runoff Can Change Tidal Flows

Spring runoff from snow melt can impact tidal flows in some cases producing a "continuous ebb" current during a flood. Athough not certain from our limited research it appears that the runoff could be a surface water effect.  The surface layer adopting the directional flow from the runoff.  In any case, planning based on tide and current tables can go awry as we found ploughing into an apposing current up Greenville Channel.

Winging It up Greenville Channel

Stratocumulus

Cumulus congestus

Clouds continued to provide a varied display throughout the day as we made for Greenville Channel. By the end of our trek up "The Ditch", so nicknamed by the locals, we would slide through Watts Narrows into Baker Inlet and anchor in an amphitheater surrounded by snow covered mountains.

Stratocumulus over Hecate Strait

Early morning clouds over Hecate Strait portend the coming storm.  Unsettled conditions would persist for the next 48 hours. We would continue to make our way to Prince Rupert in an attempt to beat the storm. Winds would exceed 50 mph.

Emily Carr Inlet

We sailed up from Saint John to the southern tip of Aristazabal Island, took the inside channel to anchor Emily Carr Inlet. The inlet was speckled with islets and reefs demanding careful attention to the charts and staying oriented to our whereabouts. The anchorage proved secluded with good holding and dinner caught from the stern of Ohana within ten minutes of dropping the hook.

Point Townsend Reef

We slipped through the narrows between Point Townsend and the lee shore of Athlone Island and found welcome shelter beginning in the lee of the reef.

Punching out of Seaforth Channel, we met four foot seas whipped up by 16 knots of gusty wind.

Sunset Saint John

Our raucous ride past reef-ridden Point Townsend and through the narrow slot against a rock strewn lee shore was rewarded in living color and the calming interior of Saint John anchorage with a view to Hecate Strait. We enjoyed observing the humorous feeding habits of a pair of sea otters diving to retrieve shell food, rolling on their back and hammering away on the shell as it was placed on their belly. Apparently they would bring a rock along with dinner to their tummy table setting.

Air Delivery Bella Bella

We exited Shearwater in the early afternoon, sailed past the small First Nation community of Bella Bella and made for open water against an incoming tide.  The "punch out" as Captain Jim, Shearwater dock mate, called it. Jim and his wife Barabara and their Labradoodle, Ella are sailing through retirement aboard their 50 foot blue hulled Hyla. Jim loves seeking out the wind. Today, he left earlier than we and no doubt had punched out and was flying past Aristazabal Island along the Hecate Strait. Given the building wind and tidal current, we opted to make for Saint John anchorage. It would be more like getting pummeled first and then ducking, sidestepping and delivering a well-place upper cut running with staysail deployed and riding 6 foot breakers abeam with 26 knot gusts, toward the shelter of St. John's harbor.

Georgie Pt. Entrance to Gunboat Passage

We rounded the rocky outcropping of Georgie Point and made our way down the narrow channel of Gunboat Passage. We had studied the charts and accounts of the passage and were keen to stay clear of the reefs and rocks as we negotiated the mile long fairway, squeezing through the neck at Maria Island on past the reef west of Draney Point and then to more open water leading to Shearwater docks.  All the while the increasing rain be-speckled our dodger windshield, splattered the sea surface and further hid anything lurking below the renowned opaque water of this area. Stirred again.

We have been two days now in this soaking rain. Glad to have fresh provisions aboard and laundry done, we will cast off tomorrow for anchorages north and west.  We figure four days will see us near Prince Rupert and the Alaskan border. Oh yes, the dinghy is now wallowing beside Ohana with nearly 15 gallons of rainwater sloshing in her belly. Bailing is the new form of morning calisthenics!