Some of the finest moments I've had on the water have been those spent at first light up top with a cup of coffee. For a few precious moments, all is still, the water is calm and all the pleasures of nature seem distilled to this. With that said, this morning may have been my most memorable yet. The day dawned without a breath of wind and the water truly did appear as glass, mirroring almost perfectly the surrounding scenery.
After a short while enjoying these moments we shook ourselves from our revery and made preparations for departure. We had thought for a while of staying here another day but the plan called for us to head for home and David had no way to contact his wife and advise her of a change. We started the engine, untied from our mooring buoy and motored away.
As we exited through Malibu Rapids we expected to be greeted by a fresh breeze in Jervis Inlet. Surprisingly it was every bit as still, the water just as perfect as inside PLI. The result was a similar view as we woke up to but on a much grander scale. Deep blue sky, vivid white snow caps and deep green forest were all reflected perfectly in the water around us, disturbed only by the oily ripples of our small wake. Heaven x 2. These few moments spent motoring at half speed into the stillness, leaving Princess Louisa behind us, will live in my memory for a very long time.
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We turned the corner past Deserted Bay and at last felt a brisk breeze in our faces. We briefly experimented with sailing but realized it would require an endless number of tacks across the inlet to make any forward progress. So we set the autopilot and settled into the long motor back down Jervis Inlet.
Two thirds of the way down Jervis is Vancouver Bay. This was another place we had scouted as a possible anchorage if we needed it. We were in no particular hurry so we decided to explore the bay, drop the hook and have lunch. When we turned in we noticed a strong breeze was blowing directly into the bay. We were told that the only possible anchorage lies at the point where the Vancouver River empties into the bay so we headed for this spot, watching the depth gauge expectantly for shallow water. To our dismay, it was only at the last minute the the bottom rose up to a suitable anchoring depth and at that point it was rising quickly. We wrenched the boat around into the wind and, struggling to keep station in a brisk wind and incoming waves dropped the anchor.
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| Vancouver Bay on the chart. |
There is an old mariner's rule that says "beware of a lee shore." A lee shore refers to a boat being blown towards shore by the wind. Sailors rightly feared this because in the days before engines, if a skipper ventured too close to a lee shore he would eventually reach a point where it would be impossible to sail across the wind and away from land. At this point all that was left was to wait until the boat went up on the rocks. This isn't a problem in modern times when you have an engine but if, heaven forbid, the engine quits, you're pretty much in the soup.
And so it was that we finally got the anchor set but had a brief and nervous lunch on the hook, one of us keeping an eye on our depth at all times. Even during our short 10 minute break Ge'Mara dragged her anchor several more feet towards shore. We motored away from there making a note that Vancouver Bay held no suitable anchorage.
As we approached the mouth of Jervis Inlet we realized that we had made a mistake in our tide calculations and we couldn't turn up Sechelt Inlet to head for the Backeddy for another 2 hours. We had planned to stay another night there and use the TV in the marina to watch the Montreal/Boston hockey game. Neither of us had any interest in bobbing around and exploring waters that we had already seen so we made a quick change of plans and headed directly into Agamemnon Channel towards our new destination, Pender Harbour. It was a long afternoon of motoring with nothing much to report except the moment when I just about ran us aground because I was at the helm and fiddling with my phone. Other than that, we listened to the hockey game on the XM satellite radio and stayed below the dodger and out of the chilly headwind that had been building all day.
Around 5pm we had left the channel and turned the corner into Pender Harbour. We were now happy for this change of plan because neither of us had been here before so it would be an unplanned new experience. Pender Harbour is actually a collection of cozy little bays, many of which have marinas and other boater facilities. However we quickly realized that many of them were closed for the season or at least offered minimal amenities. Ultimately we ended up at Madiera Park Marina at the government dock. This is a working dock and it was mostly lined with fishing boats preparing their traps for spot prawn season which was to start the very next day.
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| The fishermen at Madeira Cove were preparing for Spot Prawn season |
Both David and I had been fighting a cold on this trip so we headed into town in search of a drug store and a place to eat. Unfortunately everything was closed so we schlepped back to the boat, had a drink, ate from our dwindling provisions and went to sleep.
The next morning we walked back into town and in our enthusiasm purchased way too much food and cold meds for our needs. Back at the boat we learned that Environment Canada issued a strong wind warning, calling for winds up to 25kts. We had decided that rather than simply beating down the coast towards home into the wind we would tack across the strait to Namaimo and visit a mutual friend. We were both a little nervous about this given the forecast but we set ourselves to the task of changing to our smallest genoa, a 110. We also triple reefed the main. With these things done we had shortened sail as much as was possible on our boat with our current inventory of cloth.
After stopping in Hospital Bay for fuel we headed out of Pender Harbour. We had plotted a course that would take us just past the southern tip of Texada Island and directly across the strait to Nanaimo. When it came time to raise the sails, David questioned the wisdom of doing so. Under power the boat was burying her bow repeatedly in growing waves and the wind was even fresher than we had imagined. After some debate we decided that it would be stupid to have gone to all the trouble to shorten sail and not even try in the end. So we raised the sails and off we went. For a while we were healed over a little more than was comfortable but soon I was able to balance the boat and find a point of sail that was as high into the wind as we could manage. Unfortunately we could not make it past the southern tip of Texada so we tacked and found ourselves headed almost directly for Smugglers Cove. We had a brief debate and in the end decided to forgo crossing the strait and instead spend the evening back in Smugglers. After an hour or so of exhilarating sailing that's exactly what we did.
We noticed as soon as we were heading south in Welcome Passage that we weren't going to make as much speed as we'd hoped. Past Merry Island and into the more open water the wind and seas began to build and it was clear we were in for a long, pounding run south. At one point near the Trail Islands we passed a Canadian Coast Guard hovercraft and two military boats all seemingly working in cooperation. Later we heard on the radio that a kite boarder had been swept out to sea and was in need of assistance. It seemed like a lot of hardware to rescue one person but as we passed one of the military boats we saw them raising a dinghy with people inside off the water. All's well that ends well.
We continued past the Trail Islands and past Davis Bay to Pt. Staleshen. Once around the point the wind blew even more fiercely and the seas were higher yet. We had been steadily losing headway in the growing seas and now we were motoring at full throttle but only making 2kts. It was going to be much longer than anticipated to get to Gibsons. I listened to our little Yanmar roaring gamely at full throttle and thought about the two instances where she had quit on me due to a fuel line blockage. If that were to happen now we would be immediately blown north and would be in a fairly serious situation. I consulted our charts and guide books for alternatives. I read about a small private marina in the area, situated behind its own breakwater. Looking up I saw it directly to port. David and I debated the diversion, part of us not wanting to admit defeat but as we saw our speed intermittently dip below 2kts we decided it was the right thing to do.
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| Wind, seas and tide were all working against us. |
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| We turned to port and headed for a small private marina, visible at the centre of this picture. |
We turned around and headed for the breakwater, noting that the entrance the marina was quite narrow. Although we were headed straight for it we were also being pushed sideways by the wind and waves. I once watched my friend land a small airplane in a crosswind. Mimicking him I crabbed Ge'Mara towards the entrance, turning her bow into the entrance at the very last minute. We motored cautiously into the small marina in barely 6ft of depth and waited for someone to express annoyance at our intrusion. Instead, the marina was deserted. The calm behind the breakwater was a huge relief and as we proceeded further in we saw a stretch of dock right at the front that would easily accommodate Ge'Mara. At the head of the dock was a sign that said "Emergency Use Only." Apparently we weren't the first to encounter this kind of situation.
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| Pt. Stalashen Marina - any old port in a storm! |
After tying up I explored the marina to see if there was someone to pay and/or make arrangements with but there was no one to be found. I ventured out of the development and came to a street with a strip mall with, among other stores, an IGA and a take-out pizza joint. I went back to the boat and David and I quickly agreed that a hot pizza would be just the ticket. We had cell service here so we found the number of the pizza joint and before long we were scarfing pepperoni pizza and beer, our little adventure quickly fading into memory.
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| Ge'Mara tied up in Pt. Stalashen Marina |
The next morning we knew we would have a narrow window of relative calm before the southeaster picked up again and gave us similar grief. We untied and left our little safe harbour as quickly as possible, grateful for the role it played in our trip. Turning south once again, we motored uneventfully back home. The wind and seas did pick up again but before long we were safely in English Bay, whereupon the sun came out from behind the clouds and things started warming up.
A short while later we were tied up in our slip. Our scotch and rum supplies had been depleted across the trip so we contented ourselves with toasting a fantastic trip over a cold beer. It was one to remember.
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