day 8 – Hope Island to Sea Otter Cove (Lo50°40.7’L128°20.8’)

Fogust. That’s what the locals call this time of year. The night was damp, cool and soupy; we awoke to thick fog in our protected harbour. Our VHF radio’s weather broadcast told us that our intended route had zero visibility, but small waves and a light wind. After firing up the radar system, and confirming that we could indeed use it to see any other boats through the fog, we decided to set out for our first time to the open Pacific Ocean. If it was too intense, we could either turn back or just go a short way to another protected cove not too far away. Within a very short time I realized it was going to be a lumpy trip, so I strapped on my anti-motion-sickness-pressure-point-electric-pulse-wristband-thing. The 5 hours or so that it took us to round Cape Scott and start heading south down the west side of Vancouver Island took a toll on the crew. The waves were not as big as some we’ve experienced already this trip, but the ocean swell is a much different thing than the chop of water inside the western-most coastline. It felt as if a strong set of hands cupped my face, a voice whispered in my ear that it was time to sleep now, and despite my best efforts I was forced to succumb to a deep slumber in the peaks and valleys of the sea. As shallow as they were. Mercifully I was nausea-free. And the fog was not that bad. 2 other crew members tried to fight the power and make lunch in the galley. The first ended up losing his breakfast off of the stern (our first puker! ever!), and the other ended up passing out in the salon with one eye open. Kind of creepy. Our other crew member spent most of the day tucked safely into her bunk, riding out the heaves under her blankets with her eyes closed. Thankfully, Cap’n Adam never seems to get sea-sick, and as always brought us to our anchorage safe and sound. Once anchored, it was time to officially welcome the new crew members, who earned their red toques today in the Pacific swell. Newfoundland Screech shots all around. Sea Otter Cove, just south of the northwest tip of Vancouver Island, is a special safe haven. Three otters drifted over to us just after we dropped anchor, purring and clicking and tumbling and tickling each other and just being so damn cute with their little fingers and whiskers and their back feets sticking out of the water as they checked us out. An hour or so dinghy exploration by 2 of the crew resulted in 2 beautiful ling cod, and the biggest filled all of our bellies for dinner. A lovely protected spot, but we can still see the Pacific rollers over the short rock breakwater that protects the Cove.