Desolation Sound

By Nicole

Perhaps on that rainy, dreary June night in 1792 when Captain George Vancouver entered this magnificent place—where lush, forested mountainsides touch the sea and snow-capped peaks rise over a maze of inlets and passages—it seemed inhospitable and forlorn.  In these deep waters, he searched for a suitable anchorage for his ship, Discovery, as it drifted about as if “it were blindfolded in this labyrinth.”

The islands, coves and channels that make up Desolation Sound are much less ominous and gloomy today, and if Captain Vancouver could have known how this area would materialize into one of British Columbia’s most popular cruising destinations, he may very well have settled on a more suitable name.

Grace Harbour, Desolation Sound

After a sleepless night in the rocky Copeland Islands, finding an anchorage with a sticky mud bottom was our top priority, so we made Grace  Harbour our first stop in Desolation Sound.  We spent two days reading, tinkering, listening to the rain and catching up on sleep, only going ashore once (escorted by one very vocal loon).

Prideaux Haven, Desolation Sound

Rounding the corner from our cozy, protected nook in Grace Harbour, we were blasted with 20-knot winds and driving rain as we headed for the ultimate Desolation Sound anchorage: Prideaux Haven.

In season (July and August), the coves that make up Prideaux Haven are filled with upwards of 30 boats.  But on this blustery day in mid May, we pulled into beautiful Laura Cove and found we had the place to ourselves.  What a treat!  We poked around, seeking out the ideal spot to drop the anchor (in sticky mud) and settled on the head of the cove, near a small but boisterous waterfall hidden in the woods. 

Look closely.  Can you spot Bella Star?

With a picnic lunch packed (and the sun coming out), we headed off to explore the lagoons and coves in the dinghy.  Surprisingly, we were the only boat in the whole place!  What a difference a few months makes… 


In the dinghy, heading out to explore.

Not being able to rely on Aaron ’s high school French classes (and lacking access to the internet at the current moment), I have no idea what “Prideaux Haven” means.  But it must be something good – it’s gorgeous here!

Picture majestic, forest-covered mountains dusted with fresh snow that plunge from elevations of over 6,000 feet straight down into the water.  Imagine enormous boulders rising from the crystal-clear water, their tops covered with moss and pink wild flowers and their submerged faces dotted with purple sea stars and oysters.  Smell the crisp scent of pine and fir trees mingling with salt air and the tangy fresh fragrance of spring.  And listen to trickling streams cascading down from the woods, waterfowl quacking, eagles screeching and in between it all, silence.

With digs like this, we just might stay awhile.

Spared from the glaciation that rounded nearby peaks, pointy Mt. Denman stands tall.

Aaron gives a wave – and a sense of scale. 

It’s spring, and that means many wildflowers are in bloom – especially the bright pink tufts of allium.

Two Canada geese paddle by in the foreground.  It’s gosling season, and we’ve seen dozens of fuzzy, yellow babies.  So cute.

I popped over a rock and startled a momma or daddy goose sitting on a nest of eggs (and felt horrible). I high-tailed it out of there, but thought to snap a quick picture.  Luckily after a good bit of squawking, the goose resettled back on the nest.

History

The entire Desolation Sound region has a fascinating history, stretching from First Nations inhabitants to European explorers to rugged homesteaders of the early 1900s.

In Grace Harbour, we anchored near a historic winter village for the Sliammon, Klahoose and Homalco people.  At Laura Cove in Prideaux Haven, we walked on the same small island where Captain Vancouver’s crew came ashore to investigate an abandoned longhouse.  And as we rowed the dinghy to shore at the head of Laura Cove, we saw evidence of a homesteader named Phil Lavigne’s land dating from the early to mid-1900s (where he lived out his life gardening, fishing and keeping goats).

Being able to connect with a destination and learn about the people who’ve helped shape its history makes travelling even more enjoyable.  I think it’s the difference between just visiting and truly experiencing.

Next stop, Squirrel Cove to pick up a few groceries, do laundry and, most importantly, find an internet connection!

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Many books have been written on the captivating history of Desolation Sound and the people who called it home.   A few of our favorites:

• Desolation Sound: A History (Heather Harbord)
• The Curve of Time (M. Wylie Blanchet)
• Following the Curve of Time (Cathy Converse)

Nanaimo, BC to Copeland Islands

By Aaron

Nanaimo

With few exceptions, it seems to us that sailors are pretty damn cool. Living aboard and now cruising, we’ve had the opportunity to meet lots of awesome people. Lance and Carol for example, met us through our blog as they were in the process of purchasing their Hans Christian. When we stopped in Nanaimo on our way north, they showed us some unbelievable hospitality. Taking us to the Pirate Day Sale at the local chandlery and making us a steak dinner with some Nanaimo bars for dessert! Then the next day taking us out to dinner at the floating Dinghy Dock Pub near where we were anchored. It was pretty fun to take the dinghy from the boat to a restaurant without even stepping on land.
Carol and Lance of s/v Syrah – thanks, guys!

Lance and Carol had mentioned that a rich guy in the area bought the actual SS Minnow from Gilligan's Island fame and restored it to its former glory. While we were having dinner, it happened to cruise by the pub… the passengers on the three-hour tour oblivious to the danger they were in.

Lance and Carol, thanks for making our stop in Nanaimo special.

Strait of Georgia

We left Nanaimo at 6am to cross the Strait of Georgia in conditions that were nastier than forecasted in the morning but settled out later in the day.  Bound for Hardy Island, we were plodding along when there was a thunderous BANG on the hull.  We hit a log.  A big one.  I’ve been known to exaggerate, but it looked to be an 800-year-old tree to me.  We immediately checked for incoming water, but everything looked okay.  The log passed us astern on our starboard side.  From this we surmised that preceding the collision we were approaching the log on its port side.  After a review of the collision rules, clearly the log had the right of way and we should have changed course to avert the collision. 

Considering the amount of log booms and giant log barges we’re seeing, it’s apparent that a few get loose from time to time.

We arrived at Hardy Island after a long run under power straight into the wind.  We tried to set the anchor in a few different spots, but the bottom was bare rock wherever we dropped the hook.  The sound of our 55lb anchor dragging along the rock was unmistakable and a bit disheartening.  (Especially since we have a manual windlass and I have to crank that thing up by hand every time we want to reset it.)  With only a few hundred feet to work with between cliffs all around us, there wasn’t a lot of room to go dragging the anchor around looking for something to grab onto.  So, with both of us ready to be in Desolation Sound, we decided to just carry on up to the Copeland Islands, another 5 hours away. 

We arrived at the Copeland Islands late in the day, making for a 70 nautical miles, 12.5 hour day.  The holding there wasn’t a whole lot better, and the anchor dragged on bare rock a bit before finding who knows what to grab onto.  We backed down on it really hard and it held, so we put a stern line to shore and called it good.  It was a nice evening, so we took the dinghy out for a spin and explored one of the islands.  Nicole later said that it was creepy, and I guess it was for a couple that lived in the city only 2 weeks ago and just listened to the engine run for nearly 13 hours.  The thing was, this place was quiet.  I mean dead silent, hear your own heartbeat quiet.  The water was mirror flat without even the slightest breeze.  No people.  No birds singing or water lapping at the shore.  No boats making their way or planes overhead.  Absolute, utter silence.  We hiked down to a rocky beach where we could finally hear a sound – a faint clicking that turned out to be the crabs mucking about under the rocks. 

The wind came up in the night, and as it moved us a bit we were woken up several times by the sound of the anchor chain dragging across bare rock.  Lying in your berth in the dark you have to wonder, if the chain is dragging across bare rock what’s the anchor holding onto?  With the current wind direction and strength, how much time do we have between the anchor dragging and going up on the rocks?  If we go up on the rocks, is the tide rising or falling?  Now try falling asleep.  At 4am we were awoken by 20 knot gusts coming through the anchorage and it sounded like the anchor was dragging on bare rock but it was probably just the chain.  Our position was relatively unchanged but I got out of bed and went on anchor watch so Nicole could get some more sleep.  I got my foulies on and everything ready to go, hoping we wouldn’t have to bug out in the dark.  The anchor held just fine, but we left soon after the sun came up.  Normally the anchor comes up with a huge pile of whatever it dug into piled onto the fluke, but this time the anchor and chain were totally clean.  I suspect we were hooked onto a lip of rock at best, and the stern line keeping tension on the anchor chain was the only thing keeping the anchor stuck there.  We left there pretty tired, in search of good holding (mud) at our next stop.

Nanaimo Bars in Nanaimo

By Nicole

Rich and sweet, chocolaty and coconutty, creamy and delicious.  That’s a Nanaimo Bar for you.  And when in Nanaimo, British Columbia?  Eat a Nanaimo Bar.

Our taste for Nanaimo Bars developed only recently, with a confession to our good (Canadian) friend, Deborah, that we’d never tried this famous dessert.  So come November, Deborah sweetly whipped up a batch for my birthday… and we were hooked.  It’s not something I need to eat all the time (like, say, ice cream or gelato – although I hear they make Nanaimo Bar ice cream here), but with a cup of coffee, it’s the perfect treat.

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Make your own Nanaimo Bars using the “ultimate” recipe (according to the City of Nanaimo’s website), and read more about Deborah and Marty’s quest for the best Nanaimo Bar on Three Sheets Northwest.

Nanaimo Bar Recipe

Bottom Layer
½ cup unsalted butter (European style cultured)
¼ cup sugar
5 tbsp. cocoa
1 egg beaten
1 ¼ cups graham wafer crumbs
½ c. finely chopped almonds
1 cup coconut

Melt first 3 ingredients in top of double boiler. Add egg and stir to cook and thicken. Remove from heat. Stir in crumbs, coconut, and nuts. Press firmly into an ungreased 8" x 8" pan.

Second Layer
½ cup unsalted butter
2 Tbsp. and 2 Tsp. cream
2 Tbsp. vanilla custard powder
2 cups icing sugar

Cream butter, cream, custard powder, and icing sugar together well. Beat until light. Spread over bottom layer.

Third Layer
4 squares semi-sweet chocolate (1 oz. each)
2 Tbsp. unsalted butter

Melt chocolate and butter over low heat. Cool. Once cool, but still liquid, pour over second layer and chill in refrigerator.

Wallace Island

By Aaron

We arrived on Wallace Island and did our first stern tie to shore.  It went pretty well although we’ll be making some adjustments to our procedure.

 

We found a truck in the middle of the island looking to be in decent shape. 

I was able to hotwire it and we drove all over the island hootin’ and hollerin’. 

There is an old cabin where cruisers that have come before us have left their boat names on pieces of driftwood. 

We promptly hiked down to the beach and found a piece so we could add to the collection.

We’re in Nanaimo now to see our friends and fellow Hans Christian owners, Lance and Carol, and eat some Nanaimo bars.

Jones Island to Sidney BC

By Aaron

We left Port Townsend and crossed a glassy calm Strait of Juan de Fuca.  We hit the tide flowing into Cattle Pass and wrestled the eddies and swirls boosting us north to Jones Island at 8-10 knots. 

With SW winds forecasted to be in the 15-25 knot range over the next couple days and rain coming we decided to stay on Jones Island at the north cove and do some relaxing.  There was only one other boat visiting the island even with the abundant sunshine on our first day.  The island is known for it's tame deer which supposedly will eat out of your hand.  We did see three deer on the island but they ran away as we approached, despite my displaying a baggie full of Fritos.  So I’m not sure if I believe what they say about the deer.  We did find, however, the slugs on this island are very tame and like most slug species in the Northwest they LOVE Fritos.

We had a great couple of days on Jones Island.  The first day was sunny and beautiful, so we got to do a bunch of hiking and playing around on the beach.  The second day was rainy so we relaxed, drank coffee and read books.  It was a great beginning to the cruising life. 

We left Jones Island at the crack of dawn and headed over to Sidney to clear Canadian Customs.  We expected a bit more pomp and circumstance to our arrival.  We just sailed to another country!  We like navigated and stuff!  No cannons?  No band?   After a call ahead to customs on the VHF for instructions we pulled up to an empty customs dock with a lonely phone on a pole to clear in.  I picked up the receiver and talked to a curt customs officer for all of two minutes to complete the check in process.

We decided to go ahead and spend the night in Sidney since we had some electrical problems to sort out.  Namely that our house loads were connected to the starting battery.  Sidney has a convenient West Marine to get the necessary parts so we were able to get it fixed.  But the moorage for the night was a whopping $71!  The stay was worth it though, since we were able to provision at the liquor store.

The alcohol is crazy expensive here… I’m not sure why the prices don’t cause an outright civil uprising in these lands but with the help of a generous BC Liquor Stores gift card from our friends Deborah and Marty we were able to make it happen. 

We’re moving northward again today.  When we look out at the islands we can’t help but wonder what’s over the horizon and how good it’ll get.

First Stop, Port Townsend

It felt great to be back in Port Townsend, the little Victorian seaport town on the northeastern tip of the Olympic Peninsula.  We’ve spent quite a bit of time here in the past, arriving by both car and boat, so pulling into Point Hudson Marina was comfortable and familiar – a perfect first stop on our voyage. 

Wi-fi is included with moorage in Point Hudson, which is the prime reason we pulled in (instead of anchoring).  We’re internet junkies!  Saying goodbye to our high-speed, always-on broadband internet was difficult—everything these days, from paying bills to doing research to chatting with family and friends—is done online.  We’re slowly breaking our addiction (and it feels pretty good to be mostly “clean”), but sometimes you just need a hotspot.

With our online business out of the way, we had time to stroll down the beach to lovely Chetzemoka Park.  Named for a Native American leader who befriended the early Port Townsend settlers, the park has sweeping views of Admiralty Inlet, grassy hills and well-maintained gardens.

Port Townsend was an easy first stop for us, essentially letting us wade into the shallow end of the cruising pool.  But we were itching to move on, so after wandering around the park, we packed up ship and headed north across the Strait of Juan de Fuca on our way to Jones Island.

-Nicole

And We’re Off!

The whirlwind of wrapping up projects, stowing gear, provisioning and saying farewell to family and friends has finally subsided.
This morning we cut the dock lines (with a Rambo knife that Aaron’s been packing around for just this purpose) and motored out of Shilshole Bay Marina and onto the Salish Sea.
We don’t know where the winds will take us on this journey, but we’re ready to set sail. Northward!

Cutting the dock lines, Rambo-style

4/30/2011, 6:00 AM – Leaving Shilshole Bay Marina for points north

Swabbing the Decks

It’s been a cold, wet, dark, dreary winter – one that Aaron and I are glad to be leaving in our wake.  We don’t thrive in such soggy and chilly conditions, but to the mold and mildew taking hold on our teak decks, these Northwest winters are just the ticket.

I suppose it started out slowly, with a little patch of blackish green here and there.  But after a winter (or two) of neglect, our teak decks were looking pretty sad.  Come summer, I plan to be lounging on these decks with my Kindle and a cold drink, and I certainly don’t want to be kicking back on a mat of mold and/or mildew (whichever it is).

So yesterday, I swabbed the decks.  Well, I traded the traditional mop for a blue scrubby sponge, but I was swabbing in spirit.  With some water, a significant amount of elbow grease and some Star brite Gel Teak Cleaner, I bid farewell to the mildew-y gunk forever. 

Yes, forever.

As I was scrubbing away, one of my neighbors stopped by with a bit of encouragement.  She said that once we get to the tropics, the mold and mildew on our decks will be a thing of the past.  With a circumnavigation under her belt, she knows what she’s talking about.  Yet another reason to pack up our little ship and head south… (On that note, it looks like we’re on track to cut the dock lines and take off next week!) 

Here’s what the deck looked like before (the darker patches are all mold/mildew):

And after (not bad for 28-year-old decks!):

-Nicole

Star brite Gel Teak Cleaner Restorer, rated “excellent” by Practical Sailor.  I found the gel easy to apply but not significantly more effective than plain water and elbow grease for brightening the teak.  The bottle claims it’s environmentally safe and biodegradable, with no acids or harsh chemicals to raise the wood grain.  The 32-oz bottle was $11.83 at West Marine (price matched with JMS Online Marine Supply).