Spring sprang! (May - June)

May

Fidalgo Yacht Club dines at McMillans

   What a hectic month May was! At the end of the month, we were due to arrive in Sidney, on Vancouver Island, for our yacht club's annual powwow with Capital City Yacht Club, aptly named Capidalgo. The moment that gathering ended, we were in charge of the Canadian Capers cruise further north to Galiano Island. From there, we were to head further north for our six-week cruise to Desolation Sound. Packing, planning, packing, planning, that's practically all I did. I mean, there are stores up there, but super markets? Hardly.

Bob Murphy's unknown talent

   In the middle of May, we headed west to Roche Harbor, San Juan Island, for our club's almost annual May cruise. Liz and Wayne Weideman were in charge, and they always have some crazy sh%t planned. This year they themed the cruise Camp Wannadock, and, you guessed it, they coerced us to dress up as children. Egad. Then we had decorate potatoes with stuff found on our boats and along the shore.
   Roche Harbor, IMHO, is the prettiest town in the San Juan Islands, or at least equal to Friday Harbor. I love the stores (Dominique's!), restaurants (McMillan's), sculpture garden, and flowers.

Davy, Tom Kuhn, and Bob Lane as kids

   Lastly, we discovered our home weather station can't be trusted to give good readings when the sun's setting:

 June   All year we planned and packed for this month to arrive. It took days to provision and pack L'Esprit. I'm stored a couple hundred pounds of stuff in every

Reid Harbor with Dyers and Kuhns

nook and cranny, and under every floorboard (almost). We stopped our mail. We told our kids we would out of reach. And we built mini hot houses so our houseplants would survive our absence for a couple of months. On Thursday, morning, May 31st, one of our neighbors drove us to the marina, so we wouldn't have to park Amana (our mini-van that resembles a kitchen appliance) in the lot for months.
   In three hours time, we arrived at Reid Harbor on Stuart Island, where we gathered with more than a dozen of our yachtie mates. Tomorrow we would all head for one of several customs ports on our way to 

Kim, Will, Barb, Bill, and me

Sidney, B.C. northeast of Victoria We chose Van Isle, which it turns out, was unmanned. So we had to use the customs phone to call in our presence.  That sounds easy, right? Except the guy that got to the phone just before me had just bought his boat and his registration was mangled and so we all had to wait and wait and wait. Finally, I thought #$%^!!! and used my cell phone to call, which worked wonderfully, since I was noticing that a bajillion of our yachtie mates were all   arriving at Van Isle too, so the little harbour looked like a carnival bumper rides booth. I think I was talking with a customs agent in Labrador, but an hour later, we got our customs okay, and made our way to Tsehum Harbour.


Davids

   In Tsehum Harbour, we were greeted by Capital City Yacht Club's finest, who took our lines and moored us all in like crayons in a box. It was time to partay! And party we did, for two days. Food, entertainment, dancing, great conversation. What a hoot!    On Sunday at noon, we left with a blast. The same crew that brought us in, hauled us back out. The instant we were out of the harbour, our Canadian  Capers Cruise began, because . . . . .
   One of the games on our cruise was a predicted log race, which meant each captain had to predict how long it would take his boat to travel the 18 miles from Tsehum Harbour to Montague Harbor on Galiano Island. That sounds easy, except: each boat had to maintain the same RPMs for the whole trip; the route forced boats to go through skinny, shallow passages between the bejillion islets that dot these waters; there's a lot of ferry traffic in these waters; the route forced boats to go around a buoy, which is not fun at speed; and there are a lot of boats crossing from here to there, and they don't care if you're on a predicted log race which you want to win.
   Our only real snafu occurred at the start when, as planned, I went to Nobeltec in order to relay to Davy our precise route. For some reason (???) there were three routes overlaying each other, and I could read nothing as we were quickly approaching a narrow channel.
   Davy: What's my route????
   Joanne: I don't know!
   Davy: Look at the Nobeltec chart!
   Joanne: I am!
   Davy: Tell me what it says!
   Joanne: I can't read it!
   Davy: Don't tell me you can't read it. I put it in!
   Joanne: #$%^$%#^%#$ (actually I'm crying because I know we're about to die, and I've got a sad going on because it will be my fault.

   Davy, who has come down from the fly bridge and is now looking at the Nobeltec: What the $&%^%$%^!!! . .. .pause . . . Oh . . . .  .I see what I did . . . Take the wheel while I fix this . . .

   Grace be with us, we did not die. Nor did we win the predicted log race, because we were probably off by half an hour. But we did get deluxe navigation software for the fly bridge.
   Ironically, the guy who created the log race, Bob Lane, captain extraordinaire, was disqualified near the beginning of the race because he didn't go through the narrow passage which almost took our lives.
   And, we are still friends with the Monteforte/Adams (with whom we would buddy boat for the next six weeks), when we both reached the buoy at the same time and had to go around it together. (I exaggerate, but not by much!) Imagine a buoy with two 44-45' boats circling it at 8-10 knots. I held my breath.
   The cruise was great fun despite the constant rain. That's why we rented the big shelter where, the first evening we had grilled burgers, Dianne Kuhn's baked beans, and Judy Templeman's fresh potato salad, which she made entirely on her boat because you can't bring potatoes into Canada from the US. The next morning we had Penny Barnard's crepes in the shelter, and played our silly Lewis-and-Clark game before the kayak races (in the rain) began. 
   Monday night was extremely well-planned. We rode the pub bus to the Hummingbird Pub (pix) for dinner and prizes (thank you Walt Barnard for emceeing).
   Tuesday morning, after a quick breakfast purchased from Victoria's Dutch Bakery, we headed north in a yachtie caravan to Nanaimo, where we would provision and prepare to cross the Strait of Georgia. For now we were officially on our Blind-Leading-the-Blind cruise to Desolation Sound. The cruise was originally so named because Because the founding members (Kim, Bill, Davy, and Joanne) had never been that far north. When the Kerns joined the cruise, BLTB was no longer actually true. But you'd never know by some of the things we did, which you'll never hear about. 

Strange things grow on
Nanaimo's piers.

   It is here I must tell you that after all the ocean sailing I've done, cruising in the waters north of Puget Sound is frenzied. In SoCal, we used to leave the marina and point in one direction or another, and stay on that course for the next 26, 45, or 80 miles. Not up here. It's a video game. Logs. Ferries. Fast-moving currents and eddies. It's exhausting. And you better not take your eyes off the road, for that is when you'll discover the tree you assumed was not in your way. You also best pay close attention to the directions of the current and the wind, because when they opposed each other, they create standing waves you're forced to drive through. Eek! 
   We'd never really been through any of the freaky waters the PNW sports. Dodd Narrows would be our first. "Only go at slack tide," people warned us. Indeed, we went through at slack, but indeed it was a smash. At one point it looked like a wall of water was coming at us. An another point, boats punched together because the water slowed us down so much. Thank goodness the narrows are short, and after five minutes we were still alive and on our way to Nanaimo.
   In Nanaimo, we gathered up with the three other boats with whom we'd spend the next five-and-a-half weeks:
   - Kim Adams and Bill Monteforte, on Pathways (he was a pathologist)
   - Barb and Wil Kerns, on Daybreak
   - Elaine and David York, on Gull Cry
   And here's where we went on our 400 mile trip:

(Red numbers) 1. Home, Anacortes 2. Reid Harbor, Stuart Island 3. Tsehum Habour, Sidney, BC 4. Montague
Harbour, Galiano Island 5. Dodd Narrows 6. Nanaimo, Vancouver Island 7. Garden Bay, Pender Harbour
8 Ballet Bay, Jervis Inlet 9. Powell River 10 Squirrel Cove, Cortes Island 11. Melanie Cove, Prideaux Haven 12. Roscoe Bay
13 Toba Wildernest and Von Donop Inlet, Cortes Island 14 Heriot Bay, Quadra Island 15. Garden Bay, Pender Harbour then  
Smuggler's Cove 16. Gabriola Passage 17. Ladysmith Harbour, then Chemainus 18. Maple Bay, then Genoa and Cowachin Bays 19. North Saanich Inlet 20. Roche Harbor 21. Hunter Bay, then home to Anacortes

   Rather than give you a play-by-play of our trip's remainder, here are some highlights.

Here our four boats are rafted together at Von Donop Inlet (#13).

And here we are in Garden Bay (#7) on our way home.

Davy and Bill successfully crabbing in Genoa Bay (#18).

Pathways approaches waterfall near entrance to Toba Inlet (#13).

The guys returning from fishing outside Roscoe Bay (#12).

Bill holding one the ling cods caught.

The guys' catch fed the eight of us for two dinners.

Elaine entertained us aboard Pathways. She even remembered the words to L. Cohen's Suzanne. Bravo!! (#12)

Like I said, the grocery shopping up here isn't like it is back home.

Refuge Cove runs on generators.

Curry dinner made by Elaine aboard Gull Cry.

Pathways was aft of us as wel left Pendrell Sound and turning up Waddington Channel for Toba Inlet (#13).

Pathways in front of the falls near the mouth of Toba Inlet.

Pathways and L'Esprit (right) safely docked at Toba Wildernest, which was a good thing because a heck of a storm blew through that night.

Big, blotchy raindrops. Hollering winds. Waves.

Davy and I, Bill and Kim in front of Humfray Sound on the Toba Wildernest grounds. Kyle, who owns the place, runs it on a hydroelectric generator he's perfected. Truly an amazing place to visit.

The water that runs Toba Wildernest.

The Simmermans were in Von Donop Inlet on Cortes Island (between #13 & 14). Had great time talking about the island's wolf pack (eek!).

This day was our calm before the storm.

(L-R: Barb and Will, Bill, me and Davy) We look calm, but on the way to Heriot Bay, Quadra Island, our port engine went out. You'd think driving on only the starboard engine would push us to port. Not. Ask Davy how fun it was to enter Heriot Marina with all its logs! Anyway, we were in Heriot Marina for days waiting for parts. This was when we decided to start heading home, rather than go north to the Octopus Islands like originally planned. Next year.

Heriot Bay has the BEST restaurant (menu). We were there for four days, and tried everything on their fabulous menu. Heriot Bay is where I tripped and broke my rib, and Davy tripped and cracked the iPad's gorilla glass. It's also where we spent a lot of time in the pub playing pool on a slanted table, and darts, and attending the pub prom. Evidently the have pub hosts University of Quadra, where patrons learn while they imbibe.

Here's the salmon.

And here's us entertaining ourselves.

 And here's Davy trying to take a picture with his new iPad.

Click for next blog entry: July through September.