Out on the West Coast
The west coast of Vancouver Island provides some of the most pristine and ruggedly beautiful cruising grounds in the world. It’s a sailor’s paradise with a dizzying array of beaches, deeply penetrating fjords and awe inspiring headlands. It also has a reputation of testing the seafarer with swirling currents, aggressive winds and dense fog. We set out on Sea Reach our Spencer 42 foot sailing vessel on June 28, 2008 on a circumnavigation of Vancouver Island logging in 744 nautical miles over a period of four weeks.
We chose July for the expedition to maximize our chances of favorable weather and the summer westerlies that would propel us down the west coast. Sea Reach had been offshore with her previous owner and has Hydrovane self steering as well as auto-pilot and radar. We used dead reckoning to plot our course each day and kept track of our progress by transferring GPS fixes to our chart work and altering course as required. Not the most sophisticated approach but very effective and after 28 days of two hourly fixes (more frequent in fog!) we felt our navigation skills had been both tested and honed. Highly desirable additional aids were the Wagoneer Cruising Guide and Sailing Directions British Columbia Coast.
There were two major phases to the trip, the inside passage and out on the west coast.
The inside passage has both charm and challenge. Our trip had stops at Silva Bay on Gabriolo Island, New Castle Island, Pender Harbour, Texada Island, Bliss Landing and Campbell River as we criss-crossed our way across the Strait of Georgia enroute north. We had some great sailing with friends David and Elizabeth Rose who sailed as far as Campbell River with us. We met up with old friends on Texada Island, a stop I would definitely recommend for friendliness and good value. The docking fees were 50cents a foot and we hit the local Legion for dinner where volunteers regularly serve up steak dinners during the summer months. Campbell River was our designated point for restocking and refueling before tackling the long stretch up the Johnstone Strait. We opted to go through Seymour Narrrows and left Campbell River just before high tide to catch the ebb north getting to Seymour Narrows just about at the turn. This timing was not coincidental and planning to work with tides and currents is the safest and fastest way for a sailing vessel to make its way north through passes which can run 5-10 knots depending on time and season. The push we got from the ebb tide allowed us to get through Race Passage just before the tide turned against us. This passage can become hazardous very quickly with 5-6 knot currents swirling around reefs and narrow sections making navigation very difficult. The Johnstone Strait is an unpredictable stretch of water and our calm day disintegrated into 20+ knot winds within a matter of 30 minutes of clearing Race Passage. We put up some sail and scudded across to Blinkensop Bay just south of Port Neville, finding a nice sheltered anchorage tucked in around George’s Point and Datum Rock. We continued north the next day to Port McNeill, another great place to stop with everything close to the dockside and free internet available at the launderette. This would be or last full service marina for several days.
Our passage down the west coast was divided into leaps between staging points to round the large land masses that protrude out from the shore causing wind acceleration around their capes and unpredictable currents. We made our first leap out into the Pacific from Bull Harbour. We stole out of the harbour at 5 a.m. in calm conditions, perfect for crossing the Nahwitti bar, a submerged sandbar that juts across the opening to the Pacific and is notorious for kicking up a wall of standing waves when wind and tide are in opposition. We arrived at high water slack without a whisper of wind and slipped over the bar with ease. Cape Scott beckoned in the distance. As we approached the cape, there was still little wind but the seas became lumpy and confused where tidal currents collided and the now shifting wind pattern was re-orientating wave direction. By 11:30 a.m. the wind quivered along the surface of the water and we set sail on a broad reach. Leaning into her work Sea Reach powered up and soon hit a cruising speed of six knots. We were ecstatic. With Cape Scott now behind us and the wind blowing us in the right direction we were on our way. The wind built steadily throughout the day and the broad reach turned into a full run as we changed our heading to conform with the contour of the land. With the sails in a wing on wing conformation to take full advantage of the wind we were having a sleigh ride as the 20 knot winds scurried the boat along at 7.5 knots, pretty close to hull speed for our boat. I being the cautious one was at this point suggesting a reduction in sail area. My husband was as charged up as the boat and way too exuberant to temper our flight, pointing out how balanced the boat was in defense of his “hold the course” approach. As the entrance to Quatsino point came into view so also did at least half a dozen recreational fishing boats hogging the main clear water passage between a set of reefs and the headland. As we turned closer to the wind to head towards the entrance, Sea Reach leaned down into the sea thereby increasing her length at water line and accelerated towards the hapless fisher folk. It must be said that folks in small highly powered boats have a great deal more maneuverability than a 12 ton modified full keel sailing vessel and as we ploughed round the point heading for the only deep water passage available they showed remarkable deftness in adherence to the “power gives way to sail” rule. Once around the point and into the shelter of the headland the wind speed was reduced somewhat but I was still screaming for the reef to be put in. Husband and wife teams make up a large percentage of cruising partners and generally speaking make a pretty good fist of things. Some partnerships have a very defined division of labour, blue jobs versus pink jobs and only one captain. While my husband does take on some of the nastier blue jobs; oil changes, climbing up the mast to check the rigging for instance, and I do pretty much all of the cooking and provisioning, we take on equal responsibilities when it comes to navigating, helming and the all too controversial sail plans. There is a delicate balance between the right amount of sail for best performance and the risk of loosing control or over stressing the sails and rigging. We’re still on a steep learning curve with a new boat so discussions can be fueled as much by personality type as knowledge base, my husband being more of the adrenaline junkie A type and me being more of the wussy B type. These discussions were highly charged during the early part of our voyage but as the journey continued and we became more intimately attuned to both our vessel and the natural world around us a synergy and confluence of thought emerged that served us well and strengthened our confidence in each other.
Arriving at Winter Harbour that afternoon marked a watershed for us because we knew we would not be turning back. We were on the west coast, with one hurdle completed and looking forward with great anticipation at what each day would unfold. This small community has a very outpost feel to it and is quintessential west coast. The housing stock clings to shoreline like bunches of mussels exposed at low tide. Homes are connected by narrow paths and boardwalks. There is a public wharf, a fishing camp and a general store. Not much else. It was here we had our first encounter with sea otters, playful critters swimming on their backs in groups, linked together like a gaggle of teenage girls. We would see many more as we made our way down the coast but this first sighting was particularly sweet.
As we continued our trip down the coast we met some wonderful people forming friendships of kinship with the sea. Additional highlights included; new found friends in Klaskish Inlet and a part in the landing of a 60lb halibut, an anxiety ridden day while rounding Estavan Point in impenetrable fog redeemed only by the luxury of Hot Springs cove at days end, a night moored to log booms while a large bear roamed the shoreline and two celebratory days in Victoria Harbour to end the marathon in style. We arrived home with confidence in our boat and in our sailing partnership and plans in the making for future adventures.
No comments:
Post a Comment