Blown out of Tumbo and West to more paradise

 For the long 4th weekend we like to celebrate our freedoms and independence by traveling! We got away to Canada for only the second time since COVID prohibitions and it felt truly magical. We had intended to spend the entire time at Tumbo/Cabbage since it is our favorite spot, and all started off well. 

We left Friday Harbor with the flood and made good time all the way to the tip of Saturna and through Boundary Pass. Calm seas and blue skies. Just sublime. All the textures of the Salish Sea delight those who choose to focus. Sky, water and islands all conspire to inspire. 

We grabbed a ball in Reef Harbor as there were many boats, and little Cabbage was full of campers. We noted it wasn't too full, but since we are normally here virtually alone, and this was Canada Day on July 1st, it was remarkably busy. We went to Cabbage and enjoyed our walk around, marveling at the many sights and textures. I keep coming back to the word textures because that was what occupied my attention so much on this trip. I kept being enthralled by the textures of everything, and no I wasn't on ecstasy or shrooms. Just so many incredible textures. 

Approaching the tip of Saturna

That night the forecast said NW 20-30 South of Nanaimo. For those familiar with the local weather patterns, it if often the case that what happens up near Nanaimo does not make it down as far south as Tumbo. This forecast area is in my opinion too large. It encompasses the entire Gulf Islands, and anyone who knows anything knows the weather of the Gulf Islands is nothing like what happens out in the Straits. So we went to bed a bit concerned but not too alarmed, as Reef is open to the full fetch of NW winds. 

On July 1 before the night and wind on Cabbage

Amy woke me up at 12:20am saying "Brian, are we OK?" Any day that begins at midnight with that question is certain to be dramatic. I woke to the sound of crashing waves and our own boat galloping up and down at the buoy. Oh crap. I got dressed enough to go out and add a second back up line to the line we had on the buoy, and this required some creative use of our grabber tool to thread the second line through the buoy ring in the surging and bouncing seas that were 3-4 feet in the Harbor. I managed this, and then went inside and laid there unsleeping past 1am, 2am, 3am, 4am and upon dawn near 5am, I got up and looked around. I was met with the most remarkable sight in Reef Harbor. We've spent countless nights and weeks in that anchorage at all times of year, but this time was unique. The entire anchorage was a lee shore to these giant waves coming down the Straits and waves were breaking on all sides. 

It took no time at all to realize we couldn't stay, but had few good options. We could have fought our way out and turned south with the seas and tried to shelter at the bottom of Tumbo, but then you are stuck. We decided instead to fight our way all the way north to Georgeson Passage to get to Winter Cove. 

Those who follow this blog know we go out in all seasons and conditions. Aeolus is a truly stout vessel. But what greeted us at the mouth of Reef Harbor was as ugly as you'd ever like to see. Small sets of 3-4 foot waves and larger sets of 6-9 feet. We would never go more than 3 knots and at times, slowed to less than 1 knot. Those kind of conditions. At the helm, it's one hand on the wheel and one hand gripped on the steering pedestal. We were headed more or less 15 degrees of so off the main NW direction of the seas, and this usually helped. A few of the bigger monsters had us rise up into the sky and plunge down into the trough so deeply that the next close wave buried the bow of Aeolus in green water. That's very rare but happens. But we chugged along. 

Somehow Amy and Owen didn't feed the fishes. We made our way in the agonizing slowness of such voyages, slowly gaining ground and getting toward shelter. After more than an hour of alarming conditions and some really nasty moments of being tossed around like rag dolls, we ever so slowly got into the lee of the islets near Boat Passage and gained some protection. 

Nothing is as sweet in this life as having such adventures of living to tell the tale with no harm done. We enjoyed a very fast 8-9 knot ride down Georgeson with the ebbing current, and found Winter Cove still packed from all the July 1 boats. We grabbed a great spot in the dead calm anchorage, and were quick to give each other warm hugs of love and glee. 

We enjoyed Saturna and Winter Cove immensely, such a lovely spot. The Boat Passage area and frisbee in the field. Good times. 

Boat Passage/Winter Cove

We left the next day and went to Portland Island and Princess Bay and had a fantastic hike around wonderful Portland Island. Princess Bay is quite shallow and thick with kelp, so you may have trouble getting your anchor to set. We had to set ours twice and never ever have to do that with our Mantus. Portland has no deer and the flora is quite lush for this reason. Lots of birds. Amy swam quite a bit, and I jumped in too. Owen too. He also paddle boarded our inflatable to the nearby islets and reported they were thick with oystercatchers. 

Coming back today we timed it perfectly. The ebb is huge right now and was 6+ knots in Spieden Channel, so we waited as long as we could to head to Friday Harbor knowing the ebb would sometimes help, and hurt. The main slowing is as you approach Spieden from Haro Strait and along Stuart. Spent a long time here doing 3 knots. Once to Spieden you hug the shore like a kayaker and the eddy moves you along at +2 your boat speed. We did 8 knots along the whole length. Then you ferry angle your little buns off to cross between Spieden and Limestone point, making no progress but moving laterally. Once south and clear of Limestone you eventually get helped by the ebb again and go back to 8 knots down San Juan Channel. I'm proud to say we left Portland at 9:30 am as intended, and were tied to our slip in Friday Harbor at 1:11 pm just 11 minutes off my 1pm plan. We caught the 1:55 ferry back to Anacortes. 

Princess Cove/Portland Island

Northern tip of Portland

Trips like this are the most inspirational, refreshing, invigorating and calibrating things. They remind you of all you are, and what matters to you. My family is the best, and we are so fortunate to share in these travels.