Clear November days at Jones

It is remarkable to get clear sunny weather in November here in the PNW. November is our stormiest month, with both the highest winds and heaviest rain. It has to do with the airflow off the Pacific this time of year. Later than November and the storms shift south to Oregon and California. So for us to have an extended period of clear, sunny weather is quite a gift.

Sunset from South Cove of Jones

We took advantage and headed up to the islands for a get away to our home away from home. It had been a few months since we were last at Jones Island, and so that's where we headed. It has the added benefit of only being 45 minutes from Friday Harbor and so allows a quick turn around. We headed up late on Friday night, which always feels like a push after work and all, but by Saturday morning when we wake up on Aeolus it is as though we have been there for several days already. It is something we have learned about the strange nature of being human that wherever you wake up is where you are all day, no matter where you might go. Sleeping resets our consciousness, or some more ethereal aspect of our selves, and for 100,000 years plus of human history we could never wake up very far one day from where we went to sleep the the day before!

Fogmageddon at Stuart and Jones

I like the phrasing I saw today from Cliff Mass about our current fog status here in the Salish Sea. We got away this weekend to our favorite places in the San Juans and while we hoped for some afternoon sun, we never got so much as a glimmer of blue. But nevertheless it was still fantastic.

Elliott on a previous trip to Stuart, when the sun was shining!

We went first to Stuart and on the way there were speculating about how many other boats might be present. My guess was two others, and Amy thought more. turned out there were about four other boats in Reid Harbor, which is still a far cry from the 75-100 that you can find there in July! The wind was calm and the waters were smooth for our journey north from Friday Harbor, and other than bucking some ebb current we had a mellow and quick journey.

Fantastic Labor Day at Tumbo Island

Tumbo Island is in the Canadian National Park system and lies just east of Saturna Island in the Straits of Georgia. It's not unknown, but it's not Salt Spring either. It has become our new favorite place to go for a long US weekend because it has a perfect assortment of the things we love: a good sail to get there, incredible views, great hiking, great birds and critters, great beaches, wilderness feel, and fewer people than the US islands over the holiday weekends.

Being just north of the border you might expect it to be popular, and yet it is quite remote because it lies a good distance from either the main US or Canadian towns. It's a long haul from Bellingham and a long haul from Sidney or Victoria or such. As a result, and despite the magnificence of the place, it is often fairly deserted. It turned out that the Labor Day weekend for Canadians overlaps with that for the US, and so instead of the Canadians disappearing on Sunday afternoon as we see at Memorial Day, they all stayed around with the few Americans for another day of bliss in this amazing spot.

The eastern shore of Tumbo at low tide

At 6 knots it takes about 5 hours of travel from Friday Harbor to Bedwell for customs, and then east to Tumbo. That time will soon be cut almost in half for us when the whole family has their Nexus cards, but for this trip we made an almost sentimental return to Bedwell for clearance through. It is 18 miles direct from Tumbo to Friday Harbor and with the ebb on our stern we averaged 7.5 knots on the way back and did it in less than 3 hours.Having the current with you is not a mere convenience for this trip, as it passes through some of the strongest tidal areas in the Salish Sea and you don't want that against you, or against a strong contrary wind. That is, unless you are in the mood for challenge, which we sometimes are.

Our Mantus anchor proves itself in all conditions at all times

In earlier posts I have recorded our experience of choosing a Mantus anchor and have expressed our wonder at how much better it performed than our old CQR. Now, having used the anchor every single day in all sorts of conditions while rounding Vancouver Island, over the course of a 790 mile trip, I am able to give it a testimonial of the highest order.

Essentially, that darn anchor absolutely amazes the crew of Aeolus. We anchored in every sort of place one could be here in the NW. From shallow river mouths to steep and deep rocky areas, to crowded anchorages with no room to swing and high winds that keep captains up at night, we saw it all. And in every single circumstance we never had the slightest hint of trouble with the Mantus. It held fast every time, and never even thought of dragging, even in soft mud, and it held fast on the first drop every single time.

A Harrowing Tale from Cape Scott

One of the great things about going around Vancouver Island is that you can become connected to a group of other sailors that are doing the same. They are your cohort, so to speak, and you share a common challenge, which engenders camaraderie. On our trip around, our cohort consisted of about 5-10 different boats that we more or less kept seeing as we headed south down the outer coast. We considered that each week or so must have it's own cohort, and that each summer must have a handful of these. We knew none of our group before we began our journey, and only a couple of them knew each other beforehand. In addition to sharing advice and weather reports and doing some buddy boating around tough places, it is also fun to simply hear other good sea stories from fellow intrepid travelers.

This particular sea story I heard first hand from one of our cohort members, who will remain nameless, and it is among the most harrowing tales I can imagine on a trip around the Island. I think I have most of the details correct, but forgive me if someone with more knowledge finds errors. Be forewarned of the importance of solid ground tackle!

A group of three sailboats had begun their trip around Cape Scott from the nearby anchorage in Bull Harbor on Hope Island. The forecast was for strong winds, but the crew of this particular boat was experienced and they were on a large Bill Garden (like our Gulf 32) designed ketch that was over 45 feet in length. The winds were from the SE, which when you are at the top of Vancouver Island means they are coming from shore, and there is not much fetch to build large waves. As the day progressed so did the wind, and by the time they were within sight of Cape Scott the wind was a gale. This boat, along with the two others, decided to drop anchor in one of the small temporary spots near Cape Scott that are used for just these conditions. I think they were in Fisherman Bay.

So they dropped their trusty CQR on a large scope and proceeded to wait out the storm. Sometime during the afternoon, the wind picked up further, and was blowing snot right off the island and onto the boats. To their shock and dismay, the big ketch began to drag anchor. Now, every captain knows there are never good times to drag anchor. Whether because of current, or wind, there is always a lee shore or the open sea awaiting you. For this boat, they began to drag anchor and no amount of scope seemed to be helping them (more on the benefits of switching to a modern anchor later).

Making a bad situation worse, they were dragging anchor right toward one of the other sailboats! And to make it EVEN WORSE, the owners of the other boat had gone ashore despite the high winds and no one was aboard. As you might guess, they did in fact drag anchor right onto the boats rode, and soon enough had ripped their anchor right out of the ground too. Now, both boats are being rapidly blown out to sea, which in this case means toward Alaska, as there was nothing but open water between them and points much further north.

Because there was no one aboard the second boat, once both boats were out to sea they became locked in a death grip, with the anchors and chains of both boats twisted hopelessly around one another. Imagine you are aboard the ketch, and already distressed at dragging anchor, and then finding yourself responsible for dragging another boat out to sea without the owners aboard...Just picture that a moment, in 30+ knot winds and building seas.

None of their efforts to free the boats would work, as no matter how they motored toward the other vessel the wind would blow it away much faster, keeping the chains taught and tangled. The ketch was in full reverse, with her big diesel and prop working desperately to keep them closer to shore and away from the building seas further out. The owner reported that he was full throttle, and was still losing ground with the wind blowing on both boats so violently. In desperation, they decided to launch one of their crew back to shore in their luckily motorized dinghy. They did so in a desperate attempt to reach the owners of the other boat.

Fortunately for all, the shore party was able to find the boat owners and ferry them back to their sailboat. Once they were aboard, the boats were able to motor toward one another enough to remove the tension on the chains, and they were able to disentangle the anchors with a few mighty shoves of boat hooks and a few choice swear words to appease the nautical spirits who require such things. At the end of this saga, they were both back anchored at the same cove and this time stayed put.

So good work on the part of the ketch crew for mitigating what could have been an even worse situation, and thankfully the crew of the other boat was nearby ashore and were able to be returned to their vessel.

In my next post I think I will update my views on the Mantus anchor we've been using for the  past year. I had drug anchor several times in more benign winds when I still had my CQR, despite an all chain 3/8 BBB rode. Suffice to say I believe this whole situation would have been avoided with the use of an upgraded anchor, but one never knows and I'm just glad this situation was resolved without injury to crew or vessels. 

Around Vancouver Island-790 miles-7/13-8/10-We're back!

I awoke this morning with the distinct sensation that the bed was moving gently around the room, and that my body was rolling in response to the nudge of waves. I had to grasp my sensations by the horns and actively remind myself that nothing was moving anymore, and that I was, in fact, home on a solid surface. My home had of course been on the sea for the past month, and I already miss it dearly.

Approaching Solander Island and Cape Cook under double reefed main. 

We're back. Our incredible sailing adventure around that magnificent island has come to a close, and over the weeks ahead I will try to report on the various worthwhile parts of the journey. I will only say here that it was much easier overall than we had expected. This was true in terms of dealing with the boat, the seas, the logistics, each other and the weather. And it was more beautiful, and more rich, than we imagined.

7/3/13-7/7/13: Mitlenatch Island is highlight of voyage to Campbell River

We're just back and still groggy from our wonderful voyage from Friday Harbor up to Campbell River. It had all the elements of any great journey, with a setting conducive to all sorts of philosophical and aesthetic revelations. Now that we are back in society, we feel as though we are aliens awaiting return to our mother planet:  the planet of the saltwater wilderness of Vancouver Island and environs. Next week we return to resume our journey the rest of the way around, but this time, taking our time!

A happy start

We left Friday Harbor on Friday night and made our way up to Prevost Harbor on Stuart. The wind was light and the sun was setting as we made the trip, and we arrived just in time to anchor in what is called nautical twilight. There where hordes of boats in the main anchorage, but we chose to be alone up by the county dock. It is a nice place to be, with good shore access and nice views, and I've never known why more boats don't use that location instead of the often crowded spot near the State Park dock. We were quickly asleep and excited for our jump across the border the next day.

Seeking to be at the customs dock at Bedwell as close to their opening as possible meant that we were underway at about 7:30. Not early, but not sleeping in either. The trip across Boundary Pass was benign, as usual, and we were sad to not see our usual friends the porpoises or Orcas. I learned at the customs phone that they no longer call into Victoria, but are instead routed to a center near Toronto! Some bureaucrat must have decided that was cheaper, but let me tell you that the guy in Toronto had no idea where I was and what it was like. He asked where I departed from and I said Stuart Island, and he had to ask if that was in the US or not. Oh well.