Johnstone Strait / Queen Charlotte Strait

Another day in the big Northwest!

5/6/11  - 

I talked about big tidal currents in my last blog.  Here’s a great quote about narrow passages and tidal currents from Jonathan Raban who wrote the “Passage to Juneau”, a mostly philosophical book about taking his boat up from Seattle to Juneau by himself:

“With far too much sea trying to escape through far too small an aperture, liquid panic broke out in the pass. The obstructed tide welled up vertically in mushroom-topped boils a dozen yards across or span impotently around in great saucer-shaped eddies.  The surface of the water was pitted with small, traveling whirlpools.  Everything was on the move on its own eccentric curvilinear track.  Keeping even a small patch of water in focus for more than a few seconds was like trying to hold in the mind’s eye the sum of movements made by couples doing the quickstep in a crowded, old fashion ballroom, as they dodged, twisted, swerved, twirled, and went spinning off at tangents to each other.”

That nicely written description only proves what you all probably know: that he is a well-known author, and I’m not! :>)

I ended up staying 2 nights in Blind Channel Resort.  Most of it was closed down, but they did have showers, which was really nice.  Part of my time was to write my last blog, the other was to do a little hiking – there were suppose to be trails.  Maybe so, but they were totally hidden from me.  Everything was overgrown and I ended up clambering clumsily through old piles of metal and cut-up vegetation, trying to weave myself in between branches and fallen logs, trying to find the trail before I gave up and walked back.  I laughed to myself thinking that long-gone were the days when I could do this kind of fearless exploration through thick and gloomy forests (and probably end up getting lost).  Not that when I was growing up there were any of those things around.  Even the thickest “rainforest” in Santa Cruz seem mild compared to here (of course the most dangerous aspect of Santa Cruz vegetation is poison oak).

On my way back to the dock, I stopped and talked with two young men working on clearing a 10 foot diameter rotten stump in front of one of the resort buildings. I mentioned the fact that the trails, from what I could find, were totally overgrown and that it must be a struggle to keep the forest from closing in and keeping the paths open.  The guys looked at each other and laughed and the son of the resort owner said, “Yeah, man, this is a rainforest.  If we were to all leave now and not come back for five years, this whole place would be covered, with trees starting to grow.  After a few more years, the structures would start collapsing because of the growth, as well as rot.  It takes us full time to maintain this place.”

We left about 12 noon to a 20K SE and took a left to negotiate Greene Pt Rapids, which was at slack tide (theoretically), worked against a 3 knot current till I got next to the mainland, and I was going to go left to continue the curve of Greene Rapids and join up Chancellor Channel, but the current was too fast and we were not making progress…so I elected to anchor in a no-name cove and wait until the current turned, which was in a couple of hours.  It was a nice, scenic little cove protected against SE to NE winds.  I don’t know why no one has named it.

Forward Cove

In two hours, I upped-anchor and we headed out to Chancellor Channel looking for a right hand turn to Wellbore Channel (yeah, it’s easy to get there, just take a right on Pine Street, go two blocks, and take a left on 1^ST Ave….ya can’t miss it!).   There the terrifying Whirlpool Rapids were waiting for me.  But by now, I had no fear…main reason was because the tides were changing very little, so the most current would be 3 or 4 knots…and that’s how it turned out…instead of going 7 knots, we were now going 10…wheee! Some mild boils, but nothing that I couldn’t handle.  Once we passed that, we were right next to Forward Cove and stopped there for the night.

Looking back on Johnstone Strait

Forward Cove was a typical Desolation/Broughton cove: narrow entryway, and long cove afterward – and very deep.  I opted to hang out on the NW side of the bay.  The SE was blowing from the head, so I was a little concerned about being up against the leeward side of the bay, but there were no problems – I had 200’ of chain out, which gave me lots of scope.  Another large US yacht (most have been about 80’) anchored nearby.  They were making it up to Alaska in a hurry.

Pushing/pulling a lot of logs!

The next day, we left about 8 am to catch most of the ebb and headed NW for a couple of miles on the Wellbore Channel, took a left and headed SW on Sunderland Channel, going around Hardwick Island, then finally taking a right and heading NW on the famous Johnstone Strait, a veritable highway of the inland passage for commercial boats.  Just in the short time that I was on Johnstone, I must have seen at least two small barges with tugs, a couple of large commercial fishing boats, and I also saw what looked like a football field length and width of giant logs tied together (booms) being pushed by one 40’ tug, and being towed by another.  The two tugs and the football field of logs were probably only doing 3 knots through the water and going against the current – in other words, they were not going anywhere.  They were staying in close to the north side of the strait in hopes to find counter currents, until the tide would turn.  Good luck to them, I thought!

Meltipi Beach

Burial Cove

We went about 13 miles, then took a right up Havannah Channel, pealed left to go up to Port Harvey Resort on East Cracroft Island.  This is a long cove (yes, with another narrow entrance) where at the end was a barge with the marina office build on it, along with a couple of fingers of docks.  George and Gail, the owners, were still in the midst of building this resort - the land and barge they acquired a couple of years ago.  The docks were in great shape, and the marina house was being remodeled.  There were no WiFi on the docks, but I could go up to their house on land and check out my e-mails from there.  They even had a little store with last years “groceries” with no fresh stuff.  By now, I was totally running out of food, so I purchased a frozen chicken breast for my dinner that they’ve been storing from last year.  There were other barges in the same bay, but they were in poor shape, and there seemed to be a lot of garbage along the shore next to the barges.  Not the most scenic of places.  George said that the garbage was going to be cleaned out before the season actually gets started, so it sounds like he’s got some political push.

Burial Cove and Meltipi

After a few days of rainy, SE days, the following day (4/29), the westerly broke in with a bang and, with sunny skies, we motored out of Port Harvey, took a very sharp left to go up Havannah Channel and, after 4 miles, ended up in a place called Burial Cove on West Cracroft, which had protection against the hard westerly.  Right across the channel looking east about a mile and a half was an abandoned Indian village called Matilpi on one of the many convoluted peninsulas of the mainland, where I took the dinghy to check it out.  It was very quiet, had a very small island in front of it to protect against a west wind if you were willing to stern tie, and it had at first what I thought was a white sand beach but it turned out to be strewn with white broken-up clam shells.  Apart from the shells collected by the Indian village, there was nothing else that I could see, as the village was abandoned in the last century when its residents joined another tribe – at least that’s what I read.  I landed the dinghy and walked around, actually trying to get inland a bit to see if I could see some ruins.  All I saw was undergrowth and lots of trees.  After doing a bit more exploring, I motored back to BB in Burial Cove.

A sense of humor at Lagoon Cove

The next day (4/30) we zipped around the corner to a very narrow and tricky passage called Chatham Channel.  You had to line yourself up with range markers to make sure you weren’t deviating from your course and run into trouble.  Going slow and running it as close to slack tide made it easy.  Once past that, we then took a left between Minstrel Island and East Cracroft Island on a narrow and short passage called “The Blow Hole”, where we were squirted out to land in Lagoon Cove Marina. 

Lagoon Cove

The people at Lagoon Cove Marina were really friendly.  There were also two boats, both couples helping out the owners of the resort to get ready for the season, clearing out trees, branches and vegetation along some of the paths (looked like they needed to do a lot). For the last few years, they’ve been helping them at the beginning and end of a number of seasons while cruising up to Alaska and back.  Summertime is big business for the folks at Lagoon Cove Marina (Bill and Jean), as tons of yachts stop by and tie up (sometimes rafting up as much as 3 boats), enjoying prawn and crab cook-offs, Happy Hour or Potluck dinners, etc.  As their brochure says: “On fine evenings, we gather around the bonfire pit in the backyard, behind the house, to roast marshmallows, sing and/or tell stories: if you play an instrument and have it with you, bring it along”.  They obviously worked long and hard on their property because it was very nice, if a bit rustic.  They even had a “totem pole” and “exercise stations”.

A real totem pole!  Not!

I didn’t realize it at the time, but one of the names of the Broughton Island is “Village of Islands”, where there are a number of marina/resorts spotted all around.  It was a bit like RV parks, where yachts can come up, tie up to a dock, get electricity, WiFi, showers, sometimes entertainment and socializing and a good view for various ranges of money (high during the summer).  I have already visited Blind Channel Resort and Port Harvey Marine.  There is also Minstrel Island Resort, Kwatsi Bay, Pierre’s at Echo Bay, and a bunch others.  Personally, I prefer quiet anchorages, but it’s nice to get a break for showers and check e-mails.

Haul out in Lagoon Marina

Comment:  Internet - just reading e-mails has changed cruising like nothing ever has done before.  I remember the unbelievable hassles we had back in the early 70’s cruising Europe, Caribbean, Central America and Mexico, writing letters instructing on where to send mail – usually in care of some Port Captain.  One never knew what, if anything, was going to be waiting on arrival.  Now, you get to a port or resort and either the place has some WiFi system or you can just walk over to a café and plug in to get all of your correspondences, even sharing photos – even pay bills!  It leaves me with a sweet/sour feeling – kind of like cell phones…how can we live without internet?

Lagoon Marina

I really wanted to do some walking, so I put on my hiking boots, and went along a somewhat well marked trail to see where it would lead.  Most of the trails were clear, but some were not.  Nonetheless, the hike made me sore the next day.  I’m definitely not getting enough exercise.

BB in Pott's Lagoon

Tied up next to me was a nice 65’ old wood underwater minesweeper that was converted to a forestry boat taking forest surveyors out to various parts of the BC coast to survey trees for the lumber industry.  These guys on both the islands and mainland would have to hoof up some of the unbelievably steep terrain in the impenetrable (dense!) forests with their handheld GPS marking out with ribbon the territories that were open for clear cutting.  Needless to say, they were all in really good shape.  The skipper of the boat was a crusty guy in his 50’s who has worked as a lumberman, commercial fisherman, yes, he even played hockey in school…all stuff that is listed in the most dangerous jobs category.  He was big, barrel-chested guy with short hair and short thick beard and when he smiled, he had a tooth missing. He smoked like a chimney.  There was also a middle-aged Indian lady who was the cook – she admitted to me that she was used to large kitchens, not the small (large to me) galley that she worked with, fixing these giant feasts (I’m sure the surveyors had healthy appetites).  Both she and the skipper were avid hockey fans, and, as it happened, they had a satellite antennae for TV, so we watched the Vancouver Canuks get beaten by the Nashville Predators on their 2^nd finals game at the end of the second overtime period…a very long game.  When the forestry guys came back from a quick fishing trip in their skiff (2 lingcod and 3 snappers), they immediately watched the game and commenting with lots of hockey insights.  It seems all Canadians are into hockey.  It must be the national sport.

Tight community in Pott's Lagoon

With a southeasterly and rain, BB left the marina the next day and headed the 7 miles west to Potts Lagoon.  I read about this place in Jonathan Rabin’s book – a narrow entry cove, with a lagoon at the head of it where, at high tide, you could take your dinghy in to check out, which I did, in between downpours. On the west side of the cove were five different colored houses on floats with their own docks and boat… people who wanted to get away from it all and live in their, I’m sure, tight-knit community.

Pott's Lagoon

That night, I ate my last fresh vegetable (an onion) on board with a tuna-fish casserole and decided that the next day would be spent going the 22 miles to Port McNeill to stock up on groceries, get some fuel and change the oil.  I had another fuel tank that was filled, but I couldn’t handle eating the canned food that I had on board.  I already had a can stew for yesterday’s dinner, and, for some reason, it didn’t taste as good as I remembered when I was in my 20’s.

No, it's a bald eagle on the mast!

Is that a plastic owl on the mast?

Port McNeill turned out to be a disappointment, but I did take advantage of 1) grocery store which was nearby, 2) shower (which didn’t work), and 3) laundry.  As well, I fueled up and changed the oil, which only took me 2 hours this time (I’m hoping I can get it done less than an hour).  While I was there, I was starting to meet a lot more people making their way up to Alaska.

Alert Bay

The next day I went to Alert Bay, staying at a somewhat rundown, very small marina that was more oriented towards fishing boats, wedging myself in between two large boats.  This island has a large Indian population and has a center/museum; the theme is reaffirming their tribal identity.  It’s all about the Potlatch, which is a party celebrating their heritage, their religion, if you will, with a lot of Indian dancing, people wearing bizarre looking masks – very pagan and not very Christian. It was illegal to have these   during the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, to the point that the Indians were losing their identity.  In the 60’s, there was a giant resurgence against that push, with the elder Indians being taped and recorded using their language, dances, and ceremonies, eventually developing a definite written dictionary of their language so that it would remain viable in future generations.  That’s why the center was built (erected in the 70’s). 

Evidence of evil doing

Anyway, I walked the mile to get to it, paid my $8, and walked the museum, but first watching a fairly lengthy video of what the center was about.  That’s why I completely missed the signs saying no photos…ha ha!  I saw a nice display of masks, reminding me of Debra Bird’s masks that she used to make for theater props in LA, which, with the help of the actors’ movements, did such a fantastic job of completely defining the character that it was suppose to reflect.  These masks looked like they would do the same thing, so I took a flash photo of it.  Luckily there wasn’t anyone around to witness my dirty deed and I didn’t take any more photos, especially when I finally did see signs saying no photos.  Ooops!

North Vancouver Isl - less mountains

I was getting tired of messing with the currents and was getting antsy to go north; so I decided it was time for me to catch one of those southeasterlies while they’re still around and venture out to the open ocean and head north to Alaska.  So we left early the next day from Alert Bay and caught a nice 2-3 knot current to take us to Port Hardy.  It is here that I was expecting about 3 packages, and so far I got one, waiting for the other two…hopefully they’ll be here tomorrow and I can take off.

Tourists welcomed at Port Hardy

I just met a nice Australian, his wife and dog on a 45+ foot cutter, who purchased a nice sailboat in Cabo just last year, and has sailed it up the coast on the way to Alaska.  Once they are there and have looked around, it sounded like they were going to head back south “‘cause it’s too cold here, mate!” Sounded like my friend Gary.  Australia is their final destination.  There is a surfboard attached to their stanchions.

Port Hardy

I also just met the guys on a really nice 65’ wooden motorboat heading up to Alaska.  They are leaving probably Monday for what sounded like a non-stop to Ketchikan.  What made meeting with them interesting is that they’re all old LAYC members…Tom Trujillo (sp?) has been commodore and knew the parents and Bill.  I came on board and had a drink and we reviewed our routes, and told where we were planning on doing.  Chris keeps his boat in Seattle (he also belongs to the Seattle YC), and this is his second trip to Alaska.

So now we’re in Queen Charlotte Strait, where the wind can really start to whip up.  It’s only going to get worse when we turn the corner and dive into Queen Charlotte Sound.  When I hear the weather reports with southeasterlies involved, I hear - no wind warnings in lower Georgia Straits, wind warnings in upper Georgia Straits, strong wind warning for Johnston Straits, gale warnings for Queen Charlotte Straits, and storm warnings for Queen Charlotte Sound. 

I’ve got a nice list of cozy coves dotted up the coast where somewhere I’ll be waiting for an appropriate weather window to head out.  Stay tuned.