Day 29 - Port Neville to Blind Channel

We woke to a peaceful morning, with blue skies already visible through waffled clouds. Not sure if the weather system has simply changed, but I think more likely we have returned to the climate of southern British Columbia. We felt a change at about this same latitude on our trip up to the Broughtons – mornings became chilly, and we had to wait until noon for the clouds to burn off when we were “up north”. We definitely welcome the return of the sun. And the horseflies have turned back into mosquitos, too. Still undecided as to whether they are welcome or not.

We hit a bit of a snag when we tried to get going nice and early to take advantage of the current and tide for our second leg of the Johnstone Strait. Although Cap’n Adam had made a mental note of the GPS coordinates when we dropped the prawn trap, it was not where we had left it. Perhaps the current had dragged it, perhaps it got pulled out with the tide. We spent about an hour searching and cursing, hampered by the sun which was low in the sky creating a blinding (but lovely) reflection off of the water. We really did not want to abandon it since they are not cheap, and we had just bought it before we left. As we were beginning to discuss moving on, Cap’n Eagle Eye spied the small yellow float about 200 yards off of our bow. Thrilled, we raced toward it before we lost it again, and didn’t even care that there were no prawns in it when we hauled it back up.

With the wind at our backs we hoisted the geniker again, and travelled all the way to the end of the Johnstone Strait, where it turns into Discovery Passage. From there we headed east between East and West Thurlow Islands, and found a spot to drop the anchor just outside of Blind Channel Resort. Although this is a nice resort with a well stocked store and a fancy looking restaurant, there were plenty of pre-teens on loud sugar highs running around, which culture-shocked the heck out of us. So, back into the dingy and back to the catamaran to enjoy the last rays of the sun in peace.

As the sun dipped behind the mountains, we briefly witnessed one of the most special things I’ve ever seen out here on the coast. A momma harbour seal, so small she barely looked full-grown herself, hopped her way out of the water and onto a rock a few hundred feet from us. And then behind her, a tiny baby seal also flopped just far enough out of the water to reach her, and began nursing. It felt like the whole world just stopped, and we were privy to one of the most intimate moments I’ve ever seen. After a bit of time I snapped one picture, barely having time to focus, but my movement must have scared momma because she slid back into the water. I included that picture in this blog (the last pic), although it is not very clear, the light was not great, and I had to crop the picture, you can kind of make it out. But it doesn’t do the moment justice, which I felt more in my heart than I saw with my eyes. You’re right, Shannon, I need a better camera with a much better lens. :)

Day 17 afternoon - Port McNeill to Polkinghorne Islands

We finally pushed off the gas dock at Port McNeill about 3:00 PM. Our destination was the Polkinghorne Islands, on the other side of Queen Charlotte Strait. I’m not sure what the technical definition of a “strait” is, but I do know that they are big commitments if you want to cross one in a boat. The Georgia Strait. Johnstone Strait. Juan de Fuca Strait. And now, Thunderpussy was about to cross a new one, Queen Charlotte Strait. Queen Charlotte Strait is where the Pacific Ocean flows into the inner waters of British Columbia. It should probably be called Haida Gwaii Strait now to pay proper respect, just like how the Island names were officially changed to reflect their cultural heritage. But then you would have to change all of the nautical charts currently being used, so what can you do?

Coming around the western tip of Malcolm Island we saw a lighthouse, one of the few which are still manned. From there it was an open expanse of the sea, with a distinctive snow-tipped crown of volcanic peaks far in the distance on the coastal mainland as our bearing.

We knew from listening to the marine weather forecast that we should expect increasing westerly winds, up to 20 knots. That is just about perfect for us to sail. We pretty much had the strait all to ourselves, not another boat was to be seen during the 2 hours or so that we had both the jib and the mainsail up, cruising along at about 7.5 knots. We sailed at a lovely beam reach, the sails (and Cap’n Adam) kept themselves perfectly trimmed, all of our telltales flying freely.

Sailing used to really confuse me. I would haul on lines as directed, but mostly just tried to keep out of the way. After our Cooper Basic Cruising course, I get it. I know we have to unfurl the jib before we trim it with the jib sheets. I know I can help hoist the mainsail if I haul on the halyard near the mast while Cap’n Adam winches it in from the helm. Then we trim the mainsail with the mainsheet, swinging the boom around with the traveller. The white ropes, the blue ropes, the red ropes, and the green ropes. I get what they do now.

After an exhilarating surf of the wind over the sea, we came around the south corner of the Polkinghorne Islands, fired up the motors and pulled down the sails. Quickly the atmosphere changed, and we knew we had entered somewhere special and kind of quiet again. On low throttle we found a tranquil bay to throw down the hook, just as the sun was setting. A few seals popped their heads out of the glassy water, checking out who had just arrived. Gulls and a few herons glided silently overhead. We were exhausted after a full day, and we found the most peaceful place to rest and sleep.

Day 17 morning - Sointula to Port McNeill

As soon as we opened our eyes, we knew it was sunny. We haven’t had wake-up sun for more than a week now, it was sure great to see it return. We hopped out of bed, ate a quick breakfast, and were pleased to see that there were 2 bicycles at the marina office, just waiting for us to borrow!

We peddled back into town on a New-Hoodie-Mission for Cap’n Adam. And there were so many photos ops, I’m posting some more from this morning before we head back out into the sea.

We are in Port McNeill now, bidding fare-ye-wells to our second crew. Mike & Jeannette – thanks so much for coming! That was a total blast, and it is great to have some friends to share those memories of Mound Island, Village Island, Alert Bay & Sointula. Mike, your protein gathering skills, and Jeannette, your galley keeping skills, were appreciated. Welcome to the red toque crew. See you back in Vancouver!

From here, we are headed across Queen Charlotte Strait, to Drury Inlet near the mainland. We are headed to the most north-western part of the Broughton Archipelago. We will wind our way south again through the village of islands, and we will post blogs wherever possible. We did experience big sections with no Telus reception in the south part of the archipelago, so we may be out of communication for a little while. See you on the other side!

Day 11 - Port McNeill to Spout Islets (Hanson Island)

Being on the outside finger of the municipal dock at Port McNeill, we were rocked a bit by the chop and the wake overnight. But we still managed to sleep-in to a reasonable hour. Chores to do today – laundry, groceries, clean up the boat, fishing licences, top up the water tanks, new gas canister for the dingy. Get ready for the new crew.

Check-out time (aka untie your boat from the dock so you don’t have to pay for 2 nights time) was supposed to be noon. But it was a quiet day in PM and we were allowed a late check-out. We knew our crew should be arriving about 3:30, but at 5:00 we still hadn’t seen them. And the wharfinger was gently asking us if we didn’t mind getting the hell off the dock now please, because the evening’s reservation was arriving soon. One last look down the dock before we started to untie – that isn’t Mike or Jeannette, but it sure does look a lot like Arrrrmin. Wait a second – it IS Arrrrmin!! What? How? Hunh?

So we headed out to throw down the anchor and wait for the expected crew, and a surprise temporary crew member assisted! Armin lives in Zeballos, he and his girlfriend Julie (Hi Julie!) were part of our crew around Cape Scott last summer. He was working nearby, had talked to Mike, and knew we were here. Some catching up and some “Rations!”, then Arrrmin was dingied back to shore, the anchor was hauled back up, the new crew arrived, we picked them up off of the loading dock, and off we went into the Broughton Archipelago!

Calm waters, the sun’s reappearance, a new crew who instantly busted out fishing rods, and retracing our steps. The intended anchorage was the same isolated spot we threw the hook down yesterday for lunch, on our Quest for Internet. But tonight there were already 2 boats stuffed in there, so we made our way back to Spout Islets, on Hanson Island. Here we found seclusion, rocky islands with cedars & old man’s beard moss, jumping herring, and moonrise. And no bugs.