Rebecca Spit to Comox to Lasqueti Island

Sunset over Quadra Island 

To my delight my salmon in foil was a big hit.  Our evening ended early.  I had checked the weather report and forecast the winds to 20 NW.  By 8:00 P.M. it was blowing; not 20 but enough for Len and Giselle to want to be on their boat.  I prepared for the dreaded anchor dragging in Rebecca Spit.  I slept in the cockpit with flashlight, boots, clothes, headlamp and engine key ready to go at the first sign of trouble. 

Note:  When I set my anchor I always put extra pressure on the anchor by putting the boat in reverse at 2,000 RMP to simulate storm force on the boat.  I was confident I was not going anywhere, but one never knows… .

I did have a show to watch.  Two boats that were rafter, anchored and stern tied were obviously not confident in their abilities or their ground tackle (anchor, chain and line).  They untied.  One boat re-anchored without a stern tie and the other boat high-tailed it to the Taku Resort across Drew Harbour. 

I also knew that, with the direction of the wind, if I dragged, it would be in the direction of Len and Giselle.  It was highly probably that my anchor would reset.

The night was eventless for me.  Having said that, I slept in gopher mode; every now and

Granite wall in Boho Bay

again I would pop my head up to take note of the lights I wanted to see: the boat beside me, behind me and the resort lights on land.

The next day we made our way to Comox.  No wind and calm seas were the conditions.  Motoring was in my future.  Just south of Mittlenatch there was hope for sailing.  I told myself that if the wind could remain between five and six knots for 10 minutes I would pull out the sails.  Things were looking up for sailing.  When I sail, I do not go below and leave the sails unattended so I took the opportunity to go below and grab a snack before sailing.  Looking forward I could see ripples on the water.  This was a good sign for it meant wind.

Out came the sails.  Did It followed suit.  Giselle came on the radio and announced the competition was on!  I reached a full 2.2 knots of boat speed before I gave up.  The wind, upon pulling sails out, decided to subside to zero. 

We crossed Comox Bar on a rising tide.  I pulled into Comox Bay Marina (my favourite) and they docked at the government wharf for the yacht club reciprocal.  Dinner consisted of fresh prawns purchased direct from the boat at 6:00 P.M @ $6/lb.

Did It left on Satuday morning for Schooner Cove.  I stayed to visit with friends and family.  My kids and grands had dinner with me on Saturday night after Meghan and I walked to Goose Spit and back.  Sunday I met with friends regarding Lima, Peru where I will join them at the end of November for a visit to their Peruvian home.  The rest of Sunday was used preparing for a dock potluck party, which turned out to be great fun.

Dew laden Ta Daa at sunrise.

Amazingly, Monday was used for a taking-care-of-business day.  Also, on Monday, my girlfriend Cecilia joined me for the next week of sailing.  We departed Tuesday morning under pristine conditions for sailing. Our destination was Boho Bay, Lasqueti Island.  Once we crossed the bar, the sails were eagerly set.  We sailed close to Sisters Islet before wind subsided and sails were hauled in.  If we couldn’t sail we would fish.  Bill, in Comox, prepared my salmon lure.  We fished for close to an hour with no nibbles.

I had never been in Boho Bay before and it came highly recommended by Len and Giselle.  As we rounded the corner the spot that I had preconceived was gone but with my rangefinder and the depth sounder, it took no time to choose another place to set the hook.  We joined four boats and another came after us.

I must say it is beautiful.  Sunsets are early but we get the sunrise. 

Yesterday we set out early for the Innovative Aquaculture tour with Gordon Jones.  The Jones brothers are amazing in that they have kept reinventing their aquaculture business

Sunrise over Jedediah Island

to (pardon the pun) stay afloat as the times and demands have changed.  After the tour we geared up for my Inca Trail training – hiking boots, backpack laden with stuff, and my camera.  Cecilia cracked the whip.  We hiked to the top of Mt. Gibraltar and walked the other trails on Jedediah Island for hours before going for a ‘buff’ swim at a private and gravelly beach.  Refreshed, we were back at Ta Daa by 6:30 P.M.  We noticed all other boats had vacated and one new boat was our neighbour for the night.  A dinner of curried clams and rice was served at 7:30 P.M. 

Eighteenth century sheep?

A sight on the island is the wild sheep, believed to be descendants of the sheep that Spaniards brought in the 18^th century.  They are unshorn.  Their wool has trapped mud and sticks so much so that they rattle a tune when they trot past.  It reminds me of a First Nations costume that rattles a rhythm when they dance.

With no moon visible to us, the stars were our focus.  They were stunning and plenty.  We slept in the cockpit under the Big Dipper.  I only had to shake Cecilia for snoring once!  The mozzies (mosquitoes) were a bit of a bother but not enough to drive us below to sleep.  We would periodically

Early morning dive off Ta Daa.

hear the seals playing and hunting fish in the bay.  They would slap their tails before descending. 

It was another beautiful sunrise this morning.  Not a cloud in the sky.  Cecilia started the day with a swim off the boat.  I, as you can see, updated the blog.  Shortly, we will re-visit the aquaculture farm and do some more walking on Jedediah Island.

Beautiful, Noisy and Busy Rebecca Spit

The morning alarm.

I awoke at 6:00 A.M. this morning to clamouring and crunching sounds.  At first I thought I had slept in and it was Len and Giselle coming to visit.  Remaining still, quiet and relaxed, I identified the noises.  Aha!  I leapt out of bed to grab my camera.  Topside, I crept to catch the culprit in the act. 

An otter had climbed aboard my tender (dinghy) to chow down on his freshly caught halibut.  He was

so engrossed in his breakfast that he did not notice as I took a couple of pictures.  He raised his nose in the air,  took a whiff (I guess he didn’t like my scent), looked around and disappeared overboard, leaving bloody remains and a head in my dinghy.

Ta Daa at Rebecca Spit

Good morning, Rebecca Spit!

I arrived yesterday (with Did It) with high expectations.  I expected quiet, I expected sandy beaches, I expected less boats.  None of my expectations were met.  I will say, if you keep your eyes to the east it is beautiful.  To the west

are houses, roads with loud trucks, lawnmower sounds, carpentry sounds, and chainsaw sounds among other civilization sights and sounds.  After hanging out in remote bays and coves, I did not welcome what I heard and saw.  Besides all that, the boats kept coming and coming.  There must have been 20 boats anchored here last night.  If this is what it is like in September, I cannot imagine what it would be like in the summer. 

Heriot Bay Inn and Pub

The beach is over run with bees and one got between my right flipflop and my right little toe.  Yep!  He got me.  I felt little rushes running through my body for hours afterwards and my toe ached to the wee hours of the morning.  That littly guy packed a punch with his sting and a couple of swear words may have escaped  past my lips.

I would like it here if I were to bring or meet the kids.  There is a

campsite and across Drew Harbour there is a hotel, pub, resort and shopping.  In the meantime, I will keep looking east and I will tune out civilization.

Sunset in Von Donop Inlet.

The fog before the rain.

 Backtracking a couple of days, while in Von Donop, Len and Giselle picked me up in their dinghy and to shore we went.  This was an afternoon adventure because it rained and it rained and it rained all morning. The goal was to walk through the forest to Squirrel Cove.  Between Von Donop and Squirrel Cove there is just a narrow stretch of land.  It is something I have always wanted to do.  The sign clearly said 5 kilometers.  Nowhere did I read that it was three kilometers up hill and two steep kilometers down hill.  The first three were through the forest and the last two were paved and a part of Whatetown Road.  While at Squirrel

Cove we snacked and had a bit of a rest before we started out trek uphill.  Giselle decided she would hitch a ride.  Funny things, all the cars were going to Squirrel Cove, not coming from.  When a car finally did approach, out went her thumb.  It was the lady from the gift shop.  She invited us to pile in.  The turn-off to the forest path was an embarrassingly quarter kilometer from where she picked us up.  We burst out laughing while profusely thanking her for her good deed of the day.

Squirrel Cove, here we come.

Before setting out on our walk, we had read about and had been warned of wolves by Barnicle Barry. 

I had heard them howling the night before and thankfully we never encountered any on the path.  Giselle was wise to leave Mr. Bean on Did It for this adventure.

We knew when we beached the dinghy the tide was rising.  Little did we know how long we would be gone and how high the tide would rise.  Len had to hoist the legs of his shorts to retrieve the dinghy.  This tactic did not work.  Eventually he waded waist high to untie the dinghy from the

Where is Mr. Bean

fallen tree.  It was a very laughable moment for Giselle and me.

As we left Von Donop yesterday morning, I spotted Maggie K anchored a bay away from us.  I hailed Eric on the loud speaker and out popped his head.  We shared a couple stories then carried on.  The tide exiting Von Donop was much lower than when we entered.  All the books told us to beware of the rock where the inlet narrows.  I inched my way past the rock

Len and Giselle resting at Squirrel Cove

while keeping an eye on the depth sounder.  I never saw less than 16 feet and felt relieved when the sounder read 20, 30 and 70 feet below me.

Tomorrow we head to Comox and this is whereDid It will head home to Shelter Island.  I will stay in Comox for a few days. My friend Cecilia will join me for my last week of sailing before I return to Victoria on or near September 20^th.   

Looking down Georgia Strait from
Rebecca Spit

our paths with take different directions. 

As I sit and type, the winds were predicted to be blowing NW 15-20 knots.  It is warm with high overcast.  It is calm.  Many boats have left and I expect to see many boats arrived later.

We have eaten very well and very healthy — except for the S’mores.  We have had chicken, steak, crab, clams, salmon and ling cod.  We have had an array of fresh and cooked vegetables, salads, and quinoa or rice.  We have also been taking turns preparing the dinner.  Giselle and have both loved when it was the other’s turn as it gave us a night out of the galley. 

It is my turn to cook dinner so tonight we will have salmon and spinach in foil (cooked on the Barby) with ginger and garlic.  

Heriot Bay - Whaletown Ferry looking north.

I Have Crabs!

I've got crabs!  Two, in fact!

Crab update:  I did not get skunked this trip.  As noted in the previous post, Giselle and I were heading out to fetch our crab pots.  In my dinghy we get and away we go.  All went well except for one thing — my dinghy motor problem is back.  The motor just died, stopped, quit running, as we were about to exit the harbour.  I could not imagine rowing all the way back from where we dropped our traps. I pulled and pulled and pulled.  Finally it started but we could only putt back to the dock.  Once there we exited my dinghy and boarded Len’s.  It was not a problem taking Len’s motor and dinghy since he has the same motor as I do.  I clearly knew how to run it. 

Two Red Rocks

Out we go!  Giselle’s trap was the furthest away so we went to it first.  There were a couple crab but not keepers.  Off we went to my trap.  As we approached, I cut the engine so we could drift to my float.  Up I pull.  Yay.  Two large crab — large enough to keep.  We fought with those two crab to get them out of the trap and into the bucket.  Once settled, I pulled the start cord on the motor and it would not start.  I pulled and pulled and pulled.  Could this really be happening?  I was beginning to think I was a jinx. 

No matter what I did, the motor would not start.  I thought by now that perhaps I had flooded it.  Giselle decided that if we had to sit and wait we might as well start rowing towards Gorge Harbour.  We look at the time and started to laugh.  It was 5:30 P.M. and we had dinner reservations for 6:45 P.M.  Could we row fast enough?  Surely Len would start wondering where we were. 

Giselle had another great idea — radio the marina.  I was smart enough to bring a portable VHF but I did wonder if I could contact the marina because between us and them was a rock wall.  No, it didn’t work.  Rats!

I decided I would call Comox Coast Guard to relay a message for us.  They did not

I made knotted pulls for
my gate latches.

respond.  Something is fishy.  I looked at the battery level and it read that it was charged.  As soon as I depressed the PTT button, the battery showed that it needed charging.  I deduced that we could receive but we could not send.  So, clearly I should have charged the battery after using it a few times. 

Giselle kept wondering what could have gone wrong with motor.  She then picked up the fuel tank.  There was fuel in it, but very little.   Surely there was enough gas to start the motor and get us home. 

Len’s dinghy is a bear to row.  Again, Giselle had the best idea; we would each take a paddle and row.  It is a long story about their dinghy and trust me when I say, we were making good time with Giselle’s method.  We periodically stopped to try the motor but it was a no go.

A beautiful morning in Gorge Harbour.

Keeping an eye out for any passing boaters as we rowed, we finally spotted a speedboat coming out of the Gorge.  We waved and waved.  They saw us!  We would be saved after all.  (Really folks, we were never in any danger, we just wanted to be back at the marina in time for dinner.) 

The kind family from Nanaimo took time out of their evening to tow us back to the marina.  Len spied us being towed and met us at the dock.  He, too, could not start the motor.  Whew I thought, it wasn’t just us women who didn’t know what to do.  He decided to fill the tank and try it again.  After a number of hearty pulls the motor started. 

I should have known better than to leave without checking the fuel.  I also learned something about my portable radio — keep it charged at all times, even if it appears to be charged. 

Did It exiting the north end of Uganda Passage.

We had a dinner to remember at the Floathouse Restaurant and the service was top notch.  I had prawns, Giselle had the halibut and Len had seafood linguine.  To top of his dinner, Len ordered the caramel cheesecake.  Of course I had to have a little taste and it was lip-smacking delicious. 

Giselle and I topped the evening with outside fireplace s’mores. 

Today we left Gorge Harbout at 12:15 P.M. bound for Von Donnop Inlet on the east side

Did It getting ready to drop anchor.

of Cortes Island.  It was a short journey, a mere 13 nautical miles.  Here it quiet, peaceful and beautiful.  As much fin as we had at Gorge Harbour, it was a relief to leave civilization for a quiet anchorage. 

The weather today was warm with little wind, in fact, not enough for sailing.  I have also made an observation in the last few places I have stayed — another Hunter sailboat has always shown up.  Montegue Harbour, Ganges on Salt Spring Island, Tenedos Bay, Laura Cove, Gorge Harbour and now in Von Donnop.  Most of the owners have been receptive to me striking up a conversation which is great because I love to talk boating. 

Tonight I will dinghy over to Did It for dinner.  We have been taking turns cooking and visiting each other’s boats for the last meal of the day.  The food has been plenty and delicious.  Also tonight, I will sleep in the cockpit.  It is so quiet here; just six other boats in the bay. 

I am looking forward to tomorrow and walking through the forest to Squirrel Cove and later in the day going kayaking. 

Looking north in Sutil Channel to Rendezvous Islands and Stuart Island.

The time is drawing near that I have to plan to return to Victoria, but first I will revisit Comox to get my fix of kids, grand kids, family and friends. 

By the way, as I motored to Von Donnop, I charged my portable radio.  Good to go!

Posting Note

Hello Family, Friends, and Followers

I just wanted to let you know that while I am in remote areas it is not always possible to post my pictures and journal in a timely fashion.  For instance, I am in Von Donnop Inlet, west side of Cortes Island and my connection with my portable wifi (Telus Sierra Wireless) is not always strong.  I will add that I can connect to the internet with it more often than my iphone will find the 4G connection.  All that said, I am happy that I took the plunge to bring the wireless with me.

Stay tuned and thank you for your patience.

Gorge Harbour - Cortes Island

Red markings are the petrography.
This one looks like a man on a big fish.

I am in Gorge Harbour, Cortes Island.  Of all the marinas in this area, Gorge is one of my favourites.  You enter the harbour through the cut.  If you know where to look, the north walls of the cut are decorated with petrographs, estimated to have been painted over 200 years ago. 

Our last night in Tenedos Bay was exciting to say the least.  We had our tasty blue ling then settled into the evening.  It was calm.  Giselle had recommended a movie Thunderheart that was on her I-pod.  I was watching it when what seemed like out of nowhere a great gust of wind slammed our boats.  I heard a loud crack and a crash.  I recognized this to be a tree crashing in the forest.  I flew out of bed, grabbed my jacket, boots and flashlight only to be met by Len on the deck of Did It.  We were secure and at the moment that is all that mattered. The tree didn’t hit us nor was it near our stern-tie lines. With rain pelting the boats, Giselle joined us in the cockpit of Ta Daa.  We could see the other boats beaming their flashlights into the forest. I concluded they heard the same noise

Shark Spit at Marina Island and Uganda Passage

that I heard.  The three of us sat in the cockpit just listening and looking into the dark and waiting for another great gust.  Being in each other's company was a great comfort. A few smaller gusts followed but nothing that caused us concern. 

In the distance we observed red, green and white lights.  The colour of lights visible helped us determine the direction the boat was travelling.  It appeared as if his anchor had dragged in the wind and he was repositioning to a more secure location in the bay. 

Shark Spit

Needless to say I slept in the cockpit the rest of the night.

The next morning Len and Giselle motored, in their dinghy, to checked out the boat we observed the previous night.  He was an 80’ motor vessel.  We knew he was a power boat but did not know the length.  It something we had not considered while we watched him the night before.

With wind directly on the stern I motored most of the way to Gorge.  I pulled out the head sail when I turned to starboard at the red buoy at Sutil Point.  It was a brisk wind and the opportunity to sail was a welcome one.

Empty mat is mine :)

A warrior doing ballet?

The Gorge marina, in the past six years, has been refreshed:  upgraded docks, pool, hot tub, laundry facilities, camping and a restaurant.  Topping the list is an outdoor fireplace on a waterside patio where (in the summer) music from the live entertainment wafts throughout the harbour.  On our first night, we were introduced to Jeff Drummond from Merville, Vancouver Island.  We were amazed at his guitar skills and his unique and clear voice.  Under the stars, listening to a mixed genre of music, we did not want him to end the show.  S’mores were a little bit of delight that Giselle and I made in the fireplace while

Curious boys watching Barnacle Barry.

listening to the beautiful music.

The next morning Giselle encouraged me to go to a free yoga class. Now this is something I have not done for centuries.  I thought I was going to die.  I took pictures just to get out of holding some of those poses with funny names that do not resemble me - like warrior, tree, boat and so on.

While here, Len got to wondering about his zincs on the prop shaft so he hired a diver to check it out.  Fortunately, I had two aboard Ta Daa.  There was only 20% of his left so my zinc now adorn his prop shaft. 

The diver, Barnacle Barry, was a character.  He lives, with his wife, on his 50’ ferro-cement sailboat in Squirrel Cove.  He is on a mooring buoy.  We mentioned that on Monday (tomorrow) we are going to Von Donnop to anchor.  Barnacle Barry reminded us of a story in Pacific Yachting (April 2012) where a couple was rescued from the wolves on the beach.  Barnale Barry was the rescuer!  The incident took place three summers ago.  We will go to Von Donnop but if we do any walking to Squirrel Cove, we will leave Giselle’s dog, Mr. Bean (a Jack), aboard Did It.

Len with a 'keeper' crab.

Giselle and I dropped the crab traps over the dock.  While the crabs were many, most were too small to keep.  Giselle scored four keepers!  We had them for dinner with steak – a surf and turf meal aboard Did It!

This morning the three of us headed to Shark Spit on Marina Island to pick a spot to drop the crab traps.  It is always a tough decision of where to drop them.  I like to look for a sandy bottom.  Giselle picked her spot.  Next, chauffeur Len dinghied us to Manson’s Landing to get clams. 

On the way we spotted a piece of wood — round and about 8 inches in diameter.  As we

Giselle cleaning crab.

got closer we discovered that it was not just a piece of wood, it was the whole log, floating vertical.  This type of flotsam could be very dangerous to any motor or sail vessel.  Fortunately I had my handheld marine VHF and my GPS.  I was able to get a lat and long and radio the information to the Comox Coast Guard.  Good deed for the day — check!

At Manson’s we tied up the dinghy at the government wharf and proceeded to the best little clam bay.  Within 15 minutes we had enough in our bucket for appies and a pasta dinner.  As I type, they are soaking in a mesh bag so all the tasty little clams can spit the sand out.  We will eat them tomorrow. 

Giselle and I are positive we will have crab in our traps when we go to pick them up – which is in just a few minutes.  I will update you upon my return!