Baker Inlet

One of the things we've been trying to do on this trip is to stop in new places when it is convenient.  In looking over the charts for northern British Columbia I noticed that we still hadn't visited Baker Inlet on the north end of Grenville Channel, even though I had wanted to several times.  The entrance to Baker Inlet is a channel called Watts Narrows, which as the name implies is very narrow and the currents run very strong.
There are quite a few places between Seattle and Alaska where the currents run faster than our boat can travel.  If the passage is wide and clear of danger, we can time it to ride along and double our speed, but more often the passages are narrow or dangerous, and we have to wait until the tide change when the currents stop to do our transit.
Such is the case with Watts Narrows, and until now our timing was never right to sneak in, so we decided to plan around it so we knew we could get through.  We had to wait outside for a bit once we arrived for the right timing, but after that it was a breeze to get through and once inside and all the way to the end of the inlet, we found another stop to add to our list of favorites.  The scenery is beautiful and the anchorage spot is well protected and roomy.  Our first night we shared the anchorage with one other boat, but they left the next morning and we decided to stay.  The crabbing was good, there were big spot prawns in our trap when I pulled it, and the weather cleared up for some much appreciated sun and warmth.  In fact it was so nice we decided to stay again the next morning, and got another day and night of clear weather without seeing another boat.  On our way out the last morning we spotted a pair of wolves on the shore, one all black and the other all white.
Our transit back out the narrows was at low tide instead of high tide as when we entered, but the depths were good and it was another easy transit.  The visit was well worth the little bit of extra planning involved, and I'm sure we will be back.

Sarheen Cove

We spent two days anchored in Sarheen Cove on the west coast of Prince of Wales Island.  It isn't an overly picturesque place, it isn't very well protected from the weather, but it is on the way if you are heading to the town of Craig.  The main reason we stayed for two days is because there is good shrimping out in front of the cove, and we did well enough to satisfy my cravings for prawn, if only for a little while.  Another reason for us to stay, one we didn't know about until after the fact, was several unusual wildlife experiences that occurred here.
The first thing that happened is that we had a wolf show up on shore just after dark the first night.  We have spotted wolves a couple times in Alaska, but it is pretty rare, and even though we didn't see this one, there is nothing quite like listening to a wolf howl in the darkness.

The victim

The second event is that we witnessed a bald eagle attacking a great blue heron.  I'm not sure how often this happens, but we have never seen it before, and I've never heard of it happening, so I'm guessing it's not very common.  We happened to be on deck and heard the heron squawking, and turned in time to see it drop out of the air into the water just as the eagle flew by.  That was really the first surprise, because I didn't know herons could swim.  I've seen them wading around in the water enough times, but never actually swimming in deep water.

The antagonist

After a few minutes the eagle flew off to a tree on the shore.  The heron waited several more minutes and then took off flying in the other direction.  Sure enough the eagle was waiting, and went streaking across the anchorage to dive at the heron again.  This happened two more times, each time the eagle would go back to shore, the heron would take off flying, and the eagle would give chase until the heron ditched in the water again.  Finally the heron took off in the other direction across the channel and the eagle gave up.
Neither Nicole nor I could figure out what may have started the whole feud.  It seemed like the eagle could have picked the heron out of the water easily enough if it wanted to, they do it to salmon all the time, but it would always give up as soon as the heron landed.  What ever the case, it was an unusual and interesting spectacle to watch.

El Capitan Passage

When Nicole and I were still in the planning stages of this trip, we talked a little bit about where we would go, but not a lot.  We were really leaving it up to how well Madeline did aboard before we got locked into too many ideas.  One of the places we did mention was the west coast of Prince of Wales Island, or POW to the locals.  We had never been to the town of Craig, and the trip there involved a route called El Capitan Passage that sounded interesting.  Maybe interesting isn't the right word, more like exciting, possibly not in a good way, but not yet exactly terrifying.  The passage is choked with rocks and small islands, with a section in the middle that shows Alaskan determination by dredging a long narrow channel through a drying flat to connect either end.  The entrance to the upper end is somewhat exposed to the Gulf of Alaska, as is a section of the lower end before you get to the town of Craig, so weather conditions can play a part as well.
We have been through Wrangell Narrows several times, through Rocky Pass, taken short cuts not talked about in the guides, and poked our noses into quite a few anchorages that many boaters wouldn't risk.  That was all before putting the boat on the rocks in 2011.

Seems both Nicole and I are a bit gun-shy now, and the description and charts of El Capitan Passage was not sitting well with me.
After leaving Point Baker and Port Protection we had an uneventful trip around the corner of POW, a bit of wind and swell but nothing too bad, and then we were tucked into the narrow channels and out of the weather.  Our planned stop at Marble Creek Cove turned out to be a good example of me not reading the guide books we came around the corner and into sight of the anchorage, the huge marble mine was all we could see.  Heavy machinery, a huge looming pier with barge tied alongside, buildings and roads and lots of stuff that didn't add much to our wilderness experience.  Luckily just past the mine and around the next corner is Calder Bay, out of sight and out of mind.  The low clouds that had been with us all day continued and all we could see was the bottom hundred feet of the hills around us.  The next day started out foggy, and we decided to just stay put.  The fog lifted but the low clouds remained, and we unsuccessfully tried our hand at crabbing.  The past few days of travel included many sightings of sea otters, which tend to eat all the crab in an area, so we were not very surprised to get skunked.  The next day dawned foggy as well, but the fog lifted and the sun started burning through the clouds, so by the time we had the anchor up and were on our way we finally got a view of the high peaks and beautiful surroundings.
The route itself turned out to be no big deal.  The channels were narrow and shallow, but they were well marked with no hidden dangers and we made it through without an issue.  Within El Capitan Passage there is a hidden gem, El Capitan Cave.  Discovered in the mid 1990's, this cave system is possibly the deepest cave in the U.S. at around 600 ft.  More than 2 miles of tunnels have been mapped already and exploration is on-going.  Unfotunately they don't allow children in the cave so we had to pass by without stopping.  Maybe next time.

Sitka

The downtown area

We've been in Sitka for almost a month now, and I hesitated to post that we were staying here until I knew for sure we could make that work.  The person working in the Harbormasters office here has a bad reputation for making lives miserable if you are trying to get a slip, and it was a game of patience to see how long it would take before she gave in and assigned us a place for the winter.  My willpower was starting to dwindle when I finally came up with an alternate strategy, and now at least we know where to call home for the foreseeable future.

Looking north up the channel.
 Our boat is in the furthest marina

Sitka is pretty nice as far as Alaskan towns go, all the necessary conveniences and a good winter community.  With three grocery stores, quite a few restaurants, a good library, and free (although agonizingly slow at times) internet in the marina, we should be able to stay comfortable through a long dark winter.  The fact that they have a brewery here in town with quite a few good beers doesn't hurt at all, and almost makes up for the fact that they closed down the chocolate factory.  The community here has a lot to offer, with activities almost every day depending on your interests.  Now that we have a place for the boat, the next move for both Nicole and I is to look for jobs.  Work not only allows us to replenish our savings, but it will hopefully allow us to meet some of the year-round residents and integrate more into the community.  There don't seem to be many posting for employment in the newspaper but we found out where the employment office is in town so hopefully that will bring some opportunities.

The islands and bays south of town

Over the past several weeks we've watched the snow level of the surrounding mountains slowly creep down towards sea level, and although we haven't had snow yet at the marina (we have seen hail and sleet several times) I don't think it will be long before we are dealing with winter conditions.  We've tried to take advantage of these last bits of fall weather by getting out and doing some hiking, and it turns out there are some really nice trails right around town.  I guess there is the possibility of bear encounters along the trails, even this close to town, but we are not overly worried.  In Alaska it's not a matter of outrunning the bear, just outrunning the slowest person in the group, and on our last outing we passed a woman with a baby in a stroller just after leaving the trailhead and I figured there was no way she could keep up with me and push that.

Kake and Ice Cream

We were still trying to get south, and the weather wasn't looking good for rounding Cape Decision, so we thought we might try to sneak through Rocky Pass and get into Sumner Strait.  We were also low on water and decided we would stop in to the village of Kake to get some fuel and refill our water tanks.  The communities in Southeast Alaska seem to belong to one of three categories: Towns, with a population in the thousands and most modern amenities; villages, with smaller populations, in many cases predominantly native people, and limited facilities; and what I would call outposts, places with a dock, but not necessarily having community power, treated water, or food and/or fuel for sale.  Kake falls into the village category, having a ferry terminal and airport but very limited supplies and a mostly native population.  When we stopped, most of the town was shut down for a funeral, but luckily there was still someone at the fuel dock so our detour was not wasted.  We reassessed our fuel plan when we were told the price, more than $6 per gallon, the highest we had seen this year, and just bought enough to get us to the next stop.  After thinking through our options for the night, we decided to stay at the marina to give us a chance to look around town and when the store reopened the next day we could get some cooking supplies we needed.  The cell phone reception was frustratingly spotty in the marina, but we did manage to get in a couple calls to check in with family, and we found internet access at high tide so we could check email.  The next day we walked in to the store in the early afternoon and found the prices for food were comparable to fuel, very high, and bought only a few items.  Strangely, their price on Ben and Jerry's pints was the best we had found in Alaska, so at least I was going to get ice cream for my trouble.  On our way back to the marina, a couple stopped and offered us a ride, and after finding out we were visiting by boat they gave us a quick driving tour of the town.  Our observations and their explanations confirmed that this is a very poor community, with almost no local industry, and most of the population survives only through government help.  Nicole and I both found that the people seemed friendly and nice, but the overall feel was pretty bleak and depressing.  With many of the other communities in the area having at least something positive to offer visitors, I don't have any reason to recommend others to stop in Kake.

Red Bluff Bay

Most times when a particular place is described in the cruising guides, sounding too good to be true, it turns out to be exactly that, too good to be true.  This is one of the exceptions, a place even better than advertised.  After waiting many days for the weather to clear up, we finally gave in and headed out on a not so horrible forecast.  Chatham Strait turned out to be reasonable, some chop and some big ocean rollers but nothing too uncomfortable, and only occasional bouts of light rain to keep things damp and misty.

The "truth in advertising" starts right away as you approach the area, the high, rocky red bluffs being visible from quite a ways off.  To enter you thread your way among several islands before emerging into the outer portion of the bay.  From here you can see the red bluffs from the back side, as well as an impressive, high, wispy waterfall on the opposite cliffs, and the remains of an old cannery on the shore.  At about the half way point the bay narrows between the cliffs and then opens out again to the second part of the bay.  This is surrounded by high mountains, some with year-round snow fields, and a large meadow split by a good sized stream at the head of the bay.  Also in this second bay is a spectacular waterfall tumbling off the cliffs.  We saw quite a few brown bear, in the meadow, fishing in the stream, and along the shores near our anchoring site.  We also counted as many as seventeen bald eagles at one time feeding on the fish that were spawning in the stream.  The pink salmon were thick in places, we saws schools with hundreds of fish in many places in the bay.  There is a small cove at the head of the bay that provides good shelter for anchoring without obstructing the views of the stream and the mountains.  Overall one of the most impressive locations we have visited so far.

Livin' Like a Gangsta'

We finally made it back to Warm Springs Bay.  For those of you that followed our blog in 2009 you will remember this is the point at which we lost our "G" rating and slipped down towards "PG-13" because of a certain picture I included.
Warm Springs Bay has several things going for it, including stunning scenery, a free dock to tie to, friendly residents, and of course the warm springs.  Near the dock, the residents have built a bath house, consisting of three private rooms each with a large bathtub, to which is piped unlimited hot spring water.  You open the tap and the tub is filled with perfect soaking temperature water, when you are done you pull the plug to drain it and then replug it so it fills for the next person.  It also doesn't hurt that these bath house rooms each have a big window that looks out over the huge waterfall that empties into the bay.  The water for the tubs is piped from a natural hot spring located up the hill from the dock, and the spring has been dammed with rocks to create several natural soaking pools affectionately know to the locals as "The Grotto".  The nickname is of course in reference to the pool at the playboy mansion, and my overactive imagination has no problem conjuring up the image of me juggling a martini in one hand and a cigar in the other while taking off my silk robe to slip into the water.  This image wouldn't be complete without a gaggle of "bunnies" to share the pool, although Nicole thinks it doesn't sound very Hef-like to say something like "In the pool, bitches", and would probably more likely come from someone like Snoop or Tupac.  That's OK, sometimes it's good to be a gansta.

For those of you that didn't see the mentioned blog post, the pic can be found here.

Brydon Anchorage, Hurricane Island, Brydon Channel

The area to the southwest of Hunter Island is a maze of islands, and the center is usually referred to as the Spider Anchorage, although there are numerous places to anchor that may or may not be included in that label.  Coming from the east, the easiest access is via Brydon Channel.  After negotiating several charted rocks and shallow areas, the channel splits, with the left channel leading out into Spider Anchorage proper, and the right channel leading up to what is sometimes referred to as Brydon Anchorage.  After skirting around the drying rock along the southern shore of the bay, we struggled to find a spot that wasn't too close to the drying rock, the south shore, or the shoals around the southeastern shore, without getting into the deeper water in the middle of the bay.  A lower tide level would make it much easier to pick out the shallow areas to avoid.  The bay is very well protected from all winds and the tide pools and shallows are full of interesting sea life.

Shaken and Stirred

Even in the planning stages of this trip, I kept being drawn to the more remote areas of the coast.  With guide books and electronic charts it's hard to get that feeling of true exploration, but there are still areas that are uncharted, and/or not covered in the guide books.  We've made our way into several saltwater lagoons that have difficult or impassable entrances at certain stages of the tide, and used short-cuts that may not have been entirely prudent, but these have all gone relatively well with nothing more than some frayed nerves.  This all came to an end on our way into Juneau.  Nicole had a flight to catch for her brothers wedding, but we were a couple days early, so I suggested we stop at a small anchorage called Oliver Inlet.  The guide book talks about a dangerous entrance, and the charts just show a relatively blank area with only a couple feet of water at low tide, but that's no different from several of the places we have visited this year, so we were not overly worried.  We planned our entry for high tide, giving us plenty of depth and negating the current that was reported to be strong in the entrance.  The reality of our passage was very different.  Once inside the entrance channel, it was obvious that the current was pushing us rather quickly into the bay, and the depths were considerably less than they should have been with an 11 foot tide.  Not knowing any better, I kept to a mid-channel path, usually the safest strategy.  As the depths continued to decrease, I shifted the boat into neutral, the current was already pushing us faster than I wanted, but I hadn't reacted fast enough.  As I shifted into neutral, the depth sounder went quickly to zero, and the boat was swept quickly and violently onto a rock reef.  The boat hit hard, lifted several feet into the air as it was swept up on to the rocks, then wobbled a bit before sliding back off.  The current was strong enough that it swept us back on to the rocks several more times before I was able to back off enough to maneuver free.  As I tried to steer the same course back out the channel to avoid further damage, Nicole went below and started pulling floor boards to check for water coming in.  Our hull is made of steel and is exceptionally strong, but we had hit hard enough that I was concerned we may have punctured the plating or opened a seam.  Luckily there was no water coming in, but with both of us stunned I thought it best to head for the docks in Juneau.  We obviously didn't know enough to get into the Inlet safely, and if there was an issue with the hull it was best to be near facilities where we could get the boat out of the water quickly for repairs.  Once at the dock, we used our underwater video camera to assess the damage, which consisted of a grapefruit sized dent on the forward edge of the keel, and some gouges down one side where we had slid against the rocks, bad enough but thankfully nothing that would require us to haul the boat out of the water.  Later, after talking to some of the locals on the dock, we found that the rivers around Juneau were at flood stage, explaining the fact that the flood tides were continuing long past the regular times.  We were also told that the entrance to Oliver Inlet is full of rocks, and that the published depths only pertain to a very intricate channel that can be seen at low tide, but isn't charted or marked in any way.  It was bound to happen sooner or later, and I feel like we were very lucky in how things turned out, but I hope we don't do that again anytime soon.

More Math

Leaving our beautiful anchorage in Ire Inlet, we got a call on the VHF radio from Tor and Jess on S/V Yare.  We had spent the previous night anchored near them in the inlet, and leaving at low tide through a tricky entrance channel I had asked them to radio back when they had passed through and let us know the conditions.  This would probably work well in most circumstances, but they have their depth sounder set up to read in feet, and to show total water depth.  We have our depth sounder set to read in meters, and to show depth below the keel of the boat.  Should be easy enough, Tor reports back their depth reading in the channel, I take that number and add 6 for the depth of our keel, multiply that number by 12 to get inches,and divide by 39 to convert to meters, because the only conversion I can remember from school is that a meter is 39 inches.  Instead I ignore the whole process, increase the throttle hoping my memory of mass, inertia, and velocity will pan out instead, and barrel through the channel.  Once clear of the complicated navigation in Ala Passage, I find the depths rising exponentially when I cut too close to Logarithm Point, and inexplicably make a point to steer the boat in a wide arc around Tangent Island.  I consider attempting to triangulate my position, somewhere between Sine Island and Cosine Island, but with GPS I don't really know what I'm angling at and give up.  As we leave the math islands I look back and see the slowly receding point that must be Azimuth Island, which might just be the high point of the day.

Cruising Guides

Starting this week I will be including posts on our blog in a pseudo-cruising guide format, outlining the places we have been on our trip.  These are meant more as a reference for our boating friends that may be heading north in the near future, but I will also try to include photos and personal experiences so there may be interesting information for non-boaters as well.
Also, I encourage anyone reading our blog to use the comments section at the end of each post, or to send us email if you have comments about any of the posts.  It's nice to have electronic mail in any form waiting for us when we arrive somewhere with internet access.

Bishop Bay, B.C Mainland, Ursula Channel

Bishop Bay and it's hot springs, although more than 10 miles off the main ferry route, is a popular stop along the inside passage.  The facilities seem to change each year, but the spring continues to provide clear, odorless water at the perfect temperature for soaking.  When we visited in 2009, in addition to the open building that houses the soaking pools, there was also an outhouse, several raised wooden platforms to use for tent bases, and a covered picnic structure.  A wooden boardwalk connected all the various facilities and led back to the ramp and dock.  In 2011 we found that the picnic facility had burned down, taking a portion of the boardwalk with it.  The boardwalk had been replaced for access to the springs but the picnic shelter was still missing. There were also two new moorings at the head of the bay.  The dock was full when we arrived so we chose to use one of the moorings, which are within easy rowing distance to the dock.  The moorings are marked "Use at your own risk", but there is no further information about the setup or it's capacities.  The weather was very calm while we were there so we felt OK using the mooring but it would be nice to have information posted somewhere if you were caught there in bad weather.  Anchoring was possible in the past, although the depths are over 20 meters and the usual anchoring location is where the moorings are now located.  The bay is very deep until very close to shore and free of navigational hazards.

We spotted several orcas feeding in the bay in front of the dock this year, and have seen humpback whales in the bay as well.

Work Bay, Sarah Island, Finlayson Channel

Situated at the north end of Finlayson Channel, Work Bay is a good anchorage to use when preparing for the long run up Graham Reach and Fraser Reach.  It is also less than 10 miles from Hiekish Narrows to make planning for the currents easier.  The bay is somewhat open to the south and the wind and swell could reach inside during moderate southerly weather, but there is good protection from all other directions.  Anchoring depths at the head of the bay are good at 10-15 meters and there is swinging room for several boats.  It looks like depth would be reasonable to anchor in the eastern arm, but this location would be even more exposed than at the head of the bay.  The approach is clear and easy and could be done by radar or in reduced visibility.
We tried prawning in the outer bay with no success, the depths are 150-200 meters within a boat length of shore until you get near the entrance to the inner bay so finding a convenient ledge to set traps is challenging.  We did not try crabbing but had very good success in Bottleneck Inlet which is only a few miles south.

Rescue Bay, Susan Island, Mathieson Channel

Rescue Bay is the only good all-weather anchorage for boats wanting to pass through Fjordlands but not spend extra days there.  There is a drying rock in the southeastern part of the bay, and a shallow spot slightly north and on the opposite side of the bay, but otherwise depths are good for anchoring in much of the bay and there is room for quite a few boats.  We anchored in the southwest corner in about 13 meters with good depths within a few boat-lengths of shore.  It is worth the extra time to position your boat in the anchorage to enjoy the views north through the islands, the snow covered peaks are stunning.

Wigham Cove, Yeo Island, North of Seaforth Channel

Wigham Cove is located about 8 miles north of the Bella Bella/Shearwater area, making it a convenient stop for boats headed north that want to stop in either town for supplies but don't want to spend the night at the docks.  The entrance to the cove is narrow with quite a few rocks that dry at low tide, but the depths in the channel are good if you favor the west side.  Anchorage is available in either the east end or the south end of the bay.  The east end is deep, about 20 meters or more through most of the area, but the approach is clear once past the rocks in the entrance.  We anchored in the south end, which requires passing between the small island and a rocky point on the eastern shore, but once past this shallow point it opens up and depths are good with swing room for several boats.  We anchored in about 12 meters in the center of the arm.  Avoid the large rock at the southern-most point of the south arm.

Beales Bay, Cunningham Island, Gunboat Passage

Because it is only about 5 miles from the town of Shearwater, Beales Bay is often overlooked.  There is a large drying ledge near the entrance to the lagoons that restricts swing room for anything more than a couple boats.  The bay is open to the south, but even with winds blowing from the west down Gunboat Passage there is minimal wave action in the bay.  Anchoring depths are good at about 10 meters at the head of the bay.  There are two lagoons to explore off the west side of the bay, the first is small but is accessible at all tide levels.  It looked like this passage could be passable for cruising boats at high tide, but we didn't check the depths inside the first narrows.  The second narrows is shallow and has a drop of several feet at low tide but can be accessed by dinghy at the higher end of the tides.  There are islands and several arms of this second lagoon that can be explored by dinghy.
We spent several days here waiting out gale forecasts, seeing very little wind or weather within the bay.  We had good luck crabbing in several locations within the bay.

Sea Otter Inlet, Hunter Island, Fitz Hugh Sound

Sea Otter Inlet is broken up into three arms, the north arm is also known as Crab Cove.  We have only anchored in the south arm, but all three offer reasonable protection for anchoring.  The south arm is long and narrow, with two breaks in the wooded shores near the head.  One passage dries on most tides and looks out into Fitz Hugh Sound, the other is a shallow rock-filled passage that connects to Target Bay in Nalau Passage.  Anchoring depths are good at around 8 meters at the head with room for other boats staggered down the length of the arm in progressively deeper water.
Crabbing was poor in the arm, but we caught quite a few rockfish around the south point of the entrance and around Hanna Islet.

Desolation Sound

I think I'm finally starting to like Desolation Sound, which is kind of a bummer because we just left there headed for bigger and better things.  Years ago my experiences in Desolation Sound included being too new to sailing and overwhelmed by the responsibilities of a new skipper and later that same year being overwhelmed by how many boats and people can be crammed into small anchorages.  Add to the crowds the fact that many boaters seemed to have an exceptional lack of boating  skill, common sense, common courtesy, or any combination of these.  I could do without the mayhem of Desolation Sound in the summer.  Having now visited twice in the early season before the other boats show up, I'm warming to the place.  We spent several days in Squirrel Cove, sharing it each night with one other boat, and during the days with ducks, geese, eagles, and seals.  We dragged our rowing dinghy "Poor Tender" through the tidal rapids into the inner lagoon for some peaceful exploration, and generally hung out and enjoyed nature.

Our next stop was Roscoe Bay, another beautiful, completely protected bay surrounded by mountains.  The tricky part of Roscoe Bay is getting in.  There is a gravel bar across the narrow entrance that dries at low tide, so you need to consult the tide tables, do some third grade math, and come up with a time that you won't feel the thud when your keel hits the bottom.  My math is usually pretty good, but I'm not overly patient and drifting around outside the entrance when I could be anchored inside enjoying a glass of wine makes me push the timing.  The depth sounder stopped it's downward plummet at 0.8, and because we have it set for meters of water under the boat, I thought 2.5 feet was a reasonable margin.  Inside the bay we had the place to ourselves for several days.  More bird watching, more seals, some good hiking trails, another positive experience.  Probably the highlight of our stay in Roscoe Bay were the jellyfish. Normally our interactions with jellyfish involve trying to scrape their remains out of the washdown pump we use for hosing down our anchor, but here they literally filled the bay and were beautiful to watch.  The signs on shore say they are Moon Jellyfish, and this is a normal occurrence in the bay each year.
Our third stop was right in the heart of Desolation Sound.  Prideaux Haven is considered the quintessential Desolation Sound experience.  There are several anchorages all close together, all well protected from the weather, with good to stunning views of the surrounding snow-capped mountains.  Folks we had met in Victoria were anchored in Melanie Cove and invited us to dinner, so we threaded our way through the rocks and anchored nearby.  Another couple days passed with only our two boats in the anchorage, along with the requisite ducks, geese, eagles......  Maybe this isn't such a bad place after all.

Whiskey, but not for drinking.

When you leave Nanaimo by boat heading north, there is a large military exercise area blocking your path.  Area WG, Whiskey Golf, is used for torpedo training, mostly by the American military.  They are pretty clear in announcing when the area is active and needs to be avoided, and we have normally lucked out and been able to cut across this stretch of water and shorten our crossing of the Strait of Georgia.  This trip our timing wasn't so good, the area was active, and on getting out of the harbor it was easy to spot the submarine, several chase boats, and a sub chaser plane overhead.  Traveling in a boat that is made of steel, is relatively noisy while motoring, and is painted bright red, I thought we were probably a little too tempting of a target to try to sneak through the area.  The fact that all these military vessels probably have electronics capable of counting the number of cans of vegetables we have stored in the bilge also added to the unlikelihood of us transiting undetected.  I had just finished another Tom Clancy novel and felt pretty up-to-date on my knowledge of submarine warfare and decided our chances of surviving an aggressive encounter with a military sub were pretty poor.  Instead, we played the law abiding citizen and kept to the narrow corridor they allow for boats to bypass the area.  We still don't have the ability to reef our mainsail ( make it smaller for stronger winds) and having to stay in this corridor limited our direction of sail, so the day turned out to be a pretty uncomfortable motoring expedition with strong winds and sizable waves.  On the positive side, we were not shot at and sunk by a torpedo from a submarine.

Nanaimo

Nicole and I have always enjoyed the time we spend in Nanaimo.  It seems to be a very boater-friendly place, with just about everything you would be looking for within easy walking distance to the harbor.  There is a good sized supermarket and liquor store just across the street from the government docks, a well stocked chandlery (boating supplies) one block further, and several ice cream/gelato shops right on the water.  The harbor is protected from bad weather by two islands, Newcastle and Protection, making it a decent place to wait out any storms passing by before crossing the Strait of Georgia.  Newcastle Island has docks and (new this year) moorings, as well as room for anchoring, and the island has an extensive trail system that offers welcome relief for stretching your legs.  Protection Island is mostly private homes, but does feature the Dinghy Dock Pub, a floating bar/restaurant accessible by private boat or via the walk-on ferry from the town dock.
We decided because we usually spend a couple days in Nanaimo re-provisioning that we would have our mail sent up from Seattle.  Along with bills and other things we probably don't want to see, our mail contained a replacement part for the boat that we wanted to get installed before continuing north.  Unfortunately we forgot that it is Easter weekend, and in Canada this means a four day break from life's luxuries, including mail service.  Thus, we are here until Tuesday, enjoying all the area has to offer, and trying hard not to spend our entire savings in one place.