Catch Up Phase One

It’s another in a long string of days here in goldilocks-weather land, a warm breeze out of the east at about 5 knots, 67 degrees in the shade of the dodger, pretty nice for the middle of October. Blue Note is in Channel Islands Harbor, California…still.  I say still because this morning was the 1036^th morning since arriving in the 805 (local jargon for Ventura and Santa Barbara counties referring to its telephone area code) when my plan was to be here 4-6 weeks at most.  Much has happened to the crew and boat in that time but before I relate that I should tell some tales of the trip getting here.

Rushbrook Marina, Prince Rupert dead astern

My intentions for travel through British Columbia were to minimize stays in marinas and maximize visits to remote bays and harbors.  So, after a few days of the usual resupply chores in Prince Rupert, we set off.  First stop was Kumealon Bay part way down the Grenville Channel.  Kumealon Bay has a lagoon and I wanted to explore it in the skiff.  Unfortunately there is a narrow shallow passage that becomes a waterfall which switches directions with the tides.  Slack water in the narrows does not correspond to the slack tide and I mistimed it on both attempts.  Maybe next time.

 Foiled by the flood

Next stop was Nettle Basin at the head of the Lowe Inlet off the Grenville Channel.  I remember motoring into a very thick fog bank in the Channel, so thick that at one point a tug with tow passed with less than 100 feet of clearance.  I saw him on the radar and heard him as he passed going the other way but never saw him.  Shortly after we popped out of the fog, the wind began to blow and we had a very pleasant downwind run to Lowe Inlet.

Fishers from different tribes

The Kumowdah River terminates as Verney Falls at the east end of Nettle Basin and the salmon were attempting to scale it while we were there.  With the salmon came the bears with their antics chasing the fish and the power plays amongst them when a fish was caught.  Also noteworthy was going swimming in the basin to escape the heat of the day.

We spent three days in Eagle Bay, a north-looking anchorage 12 miles south of the town of Kitimat.  There wasn’t anything that special about it other than we had it completely to ourselves the first two days unlike the previous anchorages in BC.

After a week “in the wilderness” which really meant away from the supermarket and the fuel dock, we went in to Kitimat to deal with those things.  The logistics were not easy due to the 15 kilometer separation between the marina and the town somewhat mitigated by the public transit system.  Because of the very sporadic service to the marina and burdened with multiple bags of groceries I spent an interesting afternoon riding the bus and shooting the bull with the driver.

Foredeck crew hard at work

 

Nineteen miles south in Devastation Channel is Weewanee Hot Springs.  To add to its desirability its bay has a mooring buoy.  We headed there.  The bath house is a cement building on the north shore of the moorage.  The water was nowhere near as hot as it was at Goddard but still therapeutic.

We headed to the southern end of Devastation Channel, turned right into Verney Channel, then left down Ursula Channel and finally east into Bishop Bay.  On its easternmost shore is, what else, a hot springs.  With the exception of Chena Hot Springs in central Alaska, Bishop Bay Hot Springs is the most developed wilderness hot springs I’ve been to.  It even has a floating dock.  This all makes for a very popular destination especially in a heat wave in August.  The dock was packed, the baths were packed, it was very social.  Although clothing was optional, it was family-oriented and most bathers were somewhat covered with a couple of very memorable exceptions.  It was a lot of fun.

All to ourselves

 

From Bishop Bay we traveled south to Princess Royal Channel, on to Graham Reach and into Swanson Bay.  But the spot I had picked out on the chart was occupied and after two tries at another we pressed on.  The winds picked up in the afternoon and we flew through Hiekish Narrows and into Finlayson Channel.  The winds had died by the time we got to Bottleneck Inlet where we anchored in the bay.  We had the place to ourselves until late the next afternoon.  From nobody to four other boats in two hours, I decided to leave the next day.

Two or three miles north of Keith Point on the west coast of Dowager Island motoring at six knots all of a sudden the engine jumped up a hundred RPMs and the boat sped up.  This had happened before, the last time leaving Hoonah: broken hi-amp alternator drive belt.  Not this time, inspection showed the belt intact, not good.

An explanation is in order.  Blue Note has a refrigerator powered by the house batteries.  It is very well insulated and uses an efficient cold plate assisted by sea water cooling.  The compressor motor failed before leaving Valdez and in order to have reasonably fresh food and especially cold beer I bought one of those small dorm-sized refrigerators as a temporary solution until I could get the onboard system replaced.  Because the dorm unit is powered by AC I had to run the inverter 24/7 to keep things cold, a very inefficient method.  The only way to replace the power in the batteries aside from plugging in at the dock was to charge them with the 80 amp alternator driven by the motor.  No alternator, no cold beer away from the dock.  There is a work-around.  When I rebuilt the hi-amp DC system I included the ability to parallel the large house battery bank with the engine start battery with a flip of a switch, on the theory that I could use the house battery to start the engine if needed.  Part of the start system is the 25 amp alternator used to charge the start battery.  Flipping the switch would allow the small alternator to charge the now-connected house battery with two caveats: it would take more than three times as long to charge the house battery, and it would fry the start battery after an uncertain amount of time.  I flipped the switch.

Troubleshooting the problem began after anchoring in Oliver Cove and taking Jazz to the beach.  After several hours of working below in the heat of the engine as well as the heat wave blanketing BC, it became obvious repair was beyond my capabilities.  Nearest opportunity for repair was Bella Bella.  We headed there the next day.

We pulled into Bella Bella and a fisherman recommended we travel on to Shearwater where there were more repair resources.  Arriving shortly after noon and plugging in, I went to find an alternator shop.  It being Sunday, it was closed.  Bright and early Monday I was able to talk to the mechanic who informed me he could get to it on Thursday.  I had a decision to make.  Should we stay, spending several hundred loonies to stay at the Shearwater Marina on the bet the shop would have the necessary parts to make the repair or press on to a larger town where the alternator could be replaced if the parts weren’t available?  I decided to go.

Having been to Port Hardy on the way north ten years earlier, I figured it would probably have what I needed.  I began plotting courses.  To my horror I realized I had none of the small scale harbor and channel charts south of Queen Charlotte Sound on the computer.  Checking the source disk revealed the folder with the charts of southern BC was empty!  Back to the marina chandlery to see what they had.  Sadly, they didn’t have much and what they had was very expensive.  Back to the boat for more decision making.  Shearwater Marina in the middle of August is a very busy place for being a small, remote village and with the heat and the problems, I was stressed.  Looking at the charts for nearby anchorages I found Fancy Cove about 11 miles south.  We left.

It was a beautiful afternoon and motor sailing along at almost 7 knots was just what I needed to settle down and logically decide what to do.  I had seriously entertained the idea of continuing the hinterland exploration even with the jury-rigged charging system before discovering I was missing all those charts but that plus the other jobs I had postponed for Washington convinced me I needed to proceed to Washington.  Furthermore, I decided to retrace the route we took in 2000, since I was somewhat familiar with the navigational issues inherent.

It was obvious, awakening to fog the next morning the heat wave had broken.  It lifted to high overcast by the time we turned south in Fisher Channel and had almost burned off when we anchored in Fury Cove.  Spent two nights there, then two nights in Port Hardy.  It was much the same as I remembered it from ten years before.  I did manage to get both pizza and fish and chips so I remember the stop favorably.

We spent a night in Port MacNeill, a new stop.  Good timing, as they were in the middle of their annual celebration and I remember very tasty ribs from an outdoor pavilion, a cloud burst, and several Guinness’s with a couple of friendly locals in a pub.

Seymour Narrows in Discovery Channel is like Sergius Narrows in SE Alaska in that huge amounts of water are forced through a very narrow passage twice daily.  Even large powerful vessels time their passage to take advantage of favorable currents.  Favorable for us was high slack tide 10:30 the following day.  Took all day to transit Johnstone Strait and we spent the night in Otter Cove, ten miles north of the Narrows.

The following day we left for Campbell River, a 22 mile trip.  We were late getting away, hitting the Narrows after high water.  The ebb had begun and we idled along at eight knots!  The most memorable thing about the stop was the expensive moorage rates and lack of facilities.  There was a shopping mall within walking distance but only specialty food markets.  Fortunately I was well set food-wise but it did subtract from the utility of stopping there.  Needless to say I harbor no desire to return.

Motion by Mercedes approaching Cape Lazo

The approach to Comox from the north has some hazards to avoid.  First is the reef off Cape Lazo which extends over a mile offshore.  Then comes the bar in front of Union Bay.  Good thing I had been through here before because navigating this cold with only the marine atlas I had purchased in Port Hardy would have been hair raising.  There is a sea buoy at the outer edge of the reef and a range marker for the channel so it isn’t a strictly local-knowledge passage.

Comox was a must stop as this is where I took possession of Blue Note and it was kind of fun to close the ten year circle.  The harbor and town had changed little and walking around dredged up a lot of memories.  A fellow living on a boat in the harbor recognized Blue Note and we a nice time conversing about her and her previous owner.

We spent a night in Nanoose Bay and a night in Degnen Bay on Gabriola Island.  I was happy to see the small-scale charts come up on the plotter toward the last part of the passage to Nanoose.  I soon found that none of the inside waters were covered though, only the Georgia Strait.  Sigh, I wasn’t quite done with the marine atlas.

We wended our way south through the inside waters to Sidney Harbour where we spent two wonderful days and nights.  Sidney Harbour itself was OK for being a chrome anchor harbor, one populated by large yachts whose anchors have never been wet except by the hired boat cleaners’ hoses.  No, it was delightful because my friend Lou picked me up and we explored the Saanich Peninsula and out to Vancouver Island’s west coast.  I really didn’t want to leave but getting Blue Note back in shape was pressing.

I’ve been writing this account for over a day and I’d better post it and continue the tale in another post.  And I’ll post pics later as well.

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