August 11th – 21st Bamfield to our Home Dock in Portland

We planned on 2 nights max in Bamfield but ended up staying 4.  On the short hop from Marble Cove the alternator belt snapped so we took the time to change that belt.  We carry quite a supply of spare parts having learned that it just makes sense to do that.  

We then took ETIII ashore so we could walk the boardwalk/trail that runs all along the east edge of the Bamfield Inlet.  The inlet is considered “main street” and has at least 2 water taxis that go back and forth.  There are no roads into the east side of Bamfield and a rather rough road into the west side.  At the small eastside store we stock up on fresh produce, exchange a book or two and enjoy ice cream cones.  Carl eyes a bill cap on the top shelf and has the proprietress take it down.  Sure enough, it is the same hat that was here a few years back.  The patch and logo show Vancouver Island with the name “Islander” on it.  It is a great keepsake for him and treated canvass to boot.  Islander manufactured our Islander Freeport IF38C and we both truly enjoy exploring Vancouver Island.  Leave it to Carl to keep in his brain that that particular hat may still be available in Bamfield.  Of course, he can buy it off the internet but this is more fun.

Returning to ExTerra we are hailed by a kayaker, Sarah, from s/v Mandolyn.  Her family (2 kids) and their friends on Harmattan (1 child and parents) are headed to Mexico and beyond and wanted pointers from folks who most likely had crossed the Columbia River Bar.  We invited her into the cockpit and had a nice discussion.  They are from Salt Spring Island, in the Gulf Islands of BC.  They had so far gone north to Alaska, then south to Haida Gwaii, and around the outside of Vancouver Island.  We enjoy seeing them and their buddy boat loading dinghies and venturing about in Bamfield.

The next day Carl decides that we should also change the timing belt, his thought being that if the alternator belt could simply snap in two it might be time to replace the timing belt instead of waiting until we get home.  We are at roughly 850 hours on the current belt. 

This is a daunting task and takes both of us working a solid 5 hours.  On our boat it entails removing the raw water pump, engine water pump, belts, pulleys, valve cover and gasket, etc. so that you can then work the timing belt off all the remaining pulleys, all while laying on your belly.  From the spares tub we pull new belts, valve gasket and a “pulley tensioner” which is a round metal wheel type item.  After we remove everything, we use our small tub of engine tools and lots of pondering to remember how to freeze the valves and flywheel in the correct location.  Then start installing all the new belts, pumps and gasket, crank the flywheel until things are aligned and pray.  Everything tested out well after running the engine for a while, so well-done crew!  

A hike to the local camping/mooring Centennial campground nets us a nice hot shower for a donation and a decent dinner at the recently re-opened Malsit Public House, owned and operated by the Huu-ay-aht First Nations.  Again, no dark beer but a decent lager. 

We chat again with Mandolyn and Harmattan people who are looking at a Monday/Tuesday run down the coast.  We decide to head to Dodger Channel, one of our preferred departure points.  

Carl sets the crab pot, netting 4 nice red rocks.  His fishing is not very successful but we enjoy a nice pasta dish for dinner with some of our elk summer sausage thrown in.  Our son Zach handed us a stick as we left his house in late June “to enjoy on the trip.”  He had it made up at his local butcher, the Meating Place.  

The next morning after lazing about over coffee we decide to look at the weather.  We had planned on Friday/Saturday NW winds run down the Washington coast.  Unfortunately, F/S had changed to SW winds and that would make for a horrible trip.  We decided to hastily pack up and head out that day, Wednesday, instead.  Our plan was to take the dinghy and explore Dodger but that was not meant to be.  While Pam does our routine “getting ready” steps Carl rechecks all the nuts, bolts, and belts from our changing of the timing belt.

 We turn on the engine at 9:55 AM on the 17^th and turn it off at 31.5 hours later, late afternoon on the 18^th, at the Lois Island anchorage on the Columbia River.

As we motor sail south, Carl cleans the 4 red rocks and Pam cooks them in the pressure cooker on the gimbled stove in the “pot holder” arms.  The nice thing about a pressure cooker is that if it was to fly off the cook top, the lid is locked in place and you would not have hot crab and liquids flying about the cabin.

The Strait of Juan de Fuca has the normal high traffic and our course from Dodger takes us right across the exit.  We have outgoing traffic headed south and west and incoming traffic from the north.  Oddly, we also have a huge container ship, the “One Parana” who has been adrift well off to our starboard for hours.

On our AIS we see that Mandolyn and Harmattan are a few hours ahead of us.  We track them and others through the night.  Thankfully, the ride is “OK”, just quite bouncy as far as trying to get any sleep on our 3 hours shifts.  With only one mishap we are glad to see the sun come back up.  At about 11:00 PM Pam hit something minor that made a loud thump, but in checking the engine and compartment we seem none the worse for wear so we motor/sail on into the night.  The milky way is in full display and the blood red ¾ moonrise is spectacular.  Our night of “small craft warning” on the ocean turned out OK. 

We hail Harmattan letting them know we are behind them since our radio does not transmit an AIS signal.  As we get closer to the Columbia River bar Mandolyn asks if they can tuck in behind us and follow us through, with some comfort knowing that we have “been there done that.”  Sarah asks if we are concerned about the fog and we chat a bit on channel 68 about the fog, buoy 10 fisheries and visibility.  Cape Disappointment Coast Guard has closed the bar to boats 20’ or less and the visibility is listed at 150 yards in the fog.  We let her know that these are typical conditions at this location.  Another helpful boater, m/v True North also chimes in that given our crossing time, some of the conditions will settle down as we get closer, mainly the chop and waves from the ebb tide since we are crossing about 2 hours after the low tide. 

We all pull in our sails while we have lots of sea room and begin the crossing, making it just fine, within ½ hour of what we had predicted we would cross when we departed the day before.

 We hail Mandolyn and welcome them across the Columbia River bar.  They beat us to the Lois Island anchorage behind Tongue Point.  Soon, all three sailboats are anchored and I am guessing they, like us, went to bed and slept quite soundly…. well, at least until the alarm clock for the 3:00 am shift went off! 

Sarah shows up at our boat in her dinghy and hands us a jar of “Spicy Tomato Savoury Spred,” handmade on their home town Salt Spring Island, thanking us for our kind helpfulness along the way.  We wish them all well in their southerly travels.  When last we saw them all 7 of them were in their 12’ porta boat slowly motoring up the very short John Day River to explore.

We do short days on the river, staying 2 nights instead of our normal 1.  We try to motor sail up to Westport, taking what we thought would be a rising tide.  It ended up still being a strong ebb in the sloppy Harrington Point area so we pulled the sail and powered through on our short trip up to Westport. 

Along the way we hailed “First Light,” Mike and Cindy, as they were headed down river on the very first leg of their journey to the Marquesas Islands and perhaps beyond.  We wish them well and will perhaps see them when they return to retrieve a vehicle at the RCYC parking lot. 

We then turn into Westport Slough where the small ferry, the “Oscar B” crosses from Cathlamet to Westport.  Pam starts to set fenders and lines so they can tie up the nice new Westport County boat ramp.  Wait, we are not moving.  We have gone pretty hard aground, so close yet so far, from the dock.  We ponder and Carl tries motoring off to no avail.  We ponder some more and Pam rummages for rope while Carl unties the dinghy, our thought being to set an anchor and kedge off, like Cliff had mentioned years ago in a class.  “Carl, she’s moving,” Pam gleefully says as the bow swings down the channel, on just enough of a rising tide.  Carl quickly reverses and we power off and mosey up to the dock. 

 The dock is new, and quite nice with plenty of room.  Carl’s brother Jim joins us for a night on the boat and it is nice to catch up with him.  We have a bit of crab and lingcod plus the potato salad Jim brought.  In the morning we explore the small park, wondering what the massive concrete remnants are from.  Jim bids us farewell and we take off on the tiny bit of rising tide hoping to get a little boost as we motor up river to Rainier. 

We tie up at Rainier to use the pump out since it is an easy stop.  The plan was to then travel to Carrol’s Channel and try a new anchor spot recommended by Ron.  Once tied to the dock though the appeal for a burger and brew took hold and we decided to stay the night on the dock.  We finally found that dark beer, even if it was just a Black Butte Porter in a bottle.

When we got up, we noticed the s/v Messenger is also tied to the dock.  Years ago, we took a river cruising class from Cliff with “Messenger Sails” with our two sons Jacob and Zach.  We see him on the dock and have a nice visit.  As usual he always asks how the boys are doing and we let him know we now enjoy having 4 grandkids with the “boys” and that they all spend some time with us on the boat.  We tell Cliff about our recent grounding and our memory of grounding with him during the class in the Cathlamet channel.  We have always felt it was an intentional grounding to see how we can get ungrounded.  

We untie the lines and head for home making the slow motor up the river, into the current and tie to the house by 5:00.

We enjoy a wonderful evening on our front porch, in the shade.  Mike and Cindy come down the ramp, here to retrieve their car.  We get to visit more about their plan for the Marquesas Island journey.  Then we are hailed by Karen who just got in from the river on s/v Nelly.  Karen comes over and we throw a small table and chair out so the 3 of us can visit over dinner.  What a treat!  As she leaves, a spectacular sunset has settled in over the moorage, a fitting end to our 7-week journey for the year.

August 1st – 11th 11 days in Northern Barkley Sound

 August 1^st – 11^th 11 days in Northern Barkley Sound

I will attempt to post from our cell phone hotspot but I will definitely need to wait until we get home to post the photos for this let of the trip.  

After another fairly rough 7-hour trip we tie up to the 52 Steps dock in Ucluelet.  Along the way we saw one whale tale as we were dodging a commercial fishing boat who really did not seem to know what he was doing.  He was not fishing; he was just weaving back and forth and then decided to cross our bow.  You have to wonder sometimes! 

We do our normal Ucluelet “stuff,” laundry, book exchange, showers, and restock the larder.  We had some nice visits on the dock with locals and with another US boat.  Carl gives captain “Tor” some pointers on where to anchor up north for crab and Tor shares stories of his travels.  We enjoy a “night on the town” and come upon a grand opening of what we call the cedar shack.  Carving canoes, awesome wood stove, historic cedar shacks in the back yard and local artist’s wares.  Free popcorn, free fresh from the grill cheeseburger and great music.  Top this off with a single waffle cone from Ukee Scoops and we waddle back to the boat.

On the morning we choose to depart I ask Carl if he want to walk up town for breakfast.  “Nah, we might get wet,” he replies.  The fog has settled in rather thick.  Instead, we head out 3 miles off shore to a place known as “Turtle Head.”  This is because the footprint of the approximately 250’ depth contour kind of looks like a turtle head.  The goal, halibut.  The breeze and slight drizzle stay with us.  We find no halibut so we venture closer to shore at around 108’.  By this time the drizzle is steady, the breeze is a little stiffer, and Carl cannot keep his lure deep enough so we decide to pack it up and head for Pipestem Inlet, about 14 miles north.  The drizzle is constant and now blows SE through the cockpit.  Having to keep a close watch on both sides of the boat for we are in crap pot “heck”, I opt to deploy my umbrella to hide behind so I can actually stay out to starboard enough to dutifully watch for crab pots.  Absolutely soaking wet we pull into Cataract Creek anchorage around 3:00.  Promptly getting rid of wet layers and throwing them into the cockpit we retire to the cabin for hot tea, cocoa and soup!  I comment that next time I will take the chance on getting wet and walk into town for a nice hot breakfast!

Cataract Creek anchorage is a nice spot surrounded by steep mountains, small islands and waterfalls that you cannot see but you can definitely hear as they roar down the mountain after the all-night rain.  The day dawns clear and warms enough so that all the soaking wet clothes can now dry nicely out in the breeze, scattered all along the boat from bow to stern.  We dinghy ashore to harvest oysters and mussels and Carl sets the crab and shrimp pots.  We also dinghy up to the creek and then around the corner into the next bay where we find the tiny waterside camp is still there.  On two wood platforms just above the high tide line we see tents and a new tarp shade cloth.  We mentally picture the campers as they walk out of their tent, take a refreshing solar shower on the rock ledge, then turn and pick up their coffee pot from the tiny pot-bellied stove, sit at the red and white checkered cloth covered table and enjoy their morning coffee.  

No shrimp are harvested but with oysters and crab we head to the Pinkertons.  Years ago, when we first stumbled in here, we had 2 other boats anchored nearby.  One was flying a burgee from the Rose City Yacht Club, where we live as one of two “resident” couples amongst about 150 boats.  We dinghied over and met Dave and Chris Kinzie on Refugee II, their 32’ Nordic Tug, the four of us pondering over having to come hundreds of miles away to the middle of nowhere to meet one another when at home they walk by our house to get to their boat.  

The Pinkertons are also where we have enjoyed watching swimming bears and eagles diving after fish just at the stern of our boat.  This has been done while enjoying Pipestem oysters and with the good comradery of our friends Walt and Odile, rafted to their sailboat B Mondo.  While we don’t get to enjoy their company this trip, we do finally see the swimming bear!  We enjoy a leisurely dinghy ride exploring the small group of islands.  We are joined in the anchorage each evening the Canada Coast Guard work boat “Otter Bay” as they tie up to the only anchor buoy in these parts that we know of.

Next stop, the Alma Russel Islands along the northern edge of the Imperial Eagle Channel.  This anchorage, more so even than the Pinkertons, lets you anchor safely behind small islands while having a wonderful view of the open water.  We have the anchorage to ourselves.  Carl in his trusty ET III dinghy fishes the evening incoming tide.  He returns to the boat and hands Pam the fishing net that has a big hole in it.  “How did that happen,” I ask.  He reaches under the seat and looking happy and excited, he holds up a 25” Coho salmon!  With all of the fishing boats trolling in the larger water nearby he manages to hook and play this beauty for quite some time from his 8’ dinghy on light fishing gear using a jig he had been catching greenling on! He says it was tail hopping and running and jumping but he finally wore her down.  What a treat.  The filets are in the freezer to be enjoyed some time after we get home.  And what does a good fisherfolk do when there is a hole in the net…..she re-knots the net!  Carl also finally finds and lands his Alma Russels lingcod and the freezer is now officially stuffed!

In 2018 we departed this anchorage at 04:30 A.M., untying from Walt and Odile’s B Mondo to start our 30-hour trek to the Columbia River bar.  Today we simply depart for about a 1 hour crossing of the Imperial Eagle Channel under high cloud cover.  The channel is choppy, as it often is.  Mid channel a lightening bolt snaps in front of us and the thunder clap 2 seconds later is very loud!  Out of nowhere has come a full-on squall, the winds double, the waves whip and the rain pounds.  Finding someone already in Tzartis Cove (our preferred anchorage) we seek cover and anchor in Marble Cove.  Time to head inside again and make hot cocoa! 

Over the next day we visit with a nice couple on m/v Night Star from Ladysmith.  They kayak off in one direction and we dinghy off in the other.  We paddle up to Tzartist to see if it is still occupied (it is) and enjoy seeing Oyster Catchers (birds) and river otters along the way.  One otter puts up quite a fuss and then we see why as her pup shyly yet frantically swims towards her.  We are not close but they are both on high alert and promptly climb up over the rocks.  We then circumnavigate the barrier island and Carl catches a variety of rock fish, lingcod, cabezon and a large flounder.  This has definitely been a great fishing trip!

Tomorrow we will head for Bamfield to top off the tanks and restock the cookie supply, hopefully find a book exchange.  Then we will head out towards Dodger Channel and start a weather watch to find our window to head back to the Columbia River.  Most likely I will finish off this year’s blog once we are home and settled in.

July 26th – August 1st 7 days in East Clayoquot Sound

 July 26^th – August 1^st 7 days in East Clayoquot Sound

The morning proves to be a challenge with very high, sloppy waves, SE wind against SW swell but no fog thankfully.  We have found that exiting these sounds often makes for a rough yeehaw! Ride.  Pam dives into her ginger stash.  She has swapped ginger with Karen F. before departure, giving Karen a piece of candied ginger to try and Karen giving Pam some ginger chews.  Ginger is my preferred way to stave off the potential seasickness.  Knock on wood, it seems to work well, and the ginger chews are a nice addition to the ginger tea, ginger root, ginger-ale, you get the picture.  I did away with the ginger beer after the first year as it seemed to be a conflict of interest with the goal.  

We see perhaps an Orca fin briefly but that is the extent of it for wildlife on our 10 hour and 15-minute day trip.  The seas eventually calm down a bit and hoisting the main early helped to stabilize the boat.  We pull in to anchor again in Baseball AKA Ling Slot cove. 

We have good cell coverage here and Carl is able to chat on the phone with the eyecare advice nurse about his ongoing eye issue.  She says she has enjoyed exploring Vancouver Island on the internet and confirms what we have told her, there really is no “urgent eye care” to be had within days or even weeks of us.  She says, “Oh! Tofino has an eye specialist,” realizing rather quickly that “they only come in once a month.”  She sets an eye appointment for September 1^st and suggests one interim remedy.  Carl’s glasses now sport blue painter’s tape over one lens to allow him to stop squinting so much and hopefully put less strain on the eyes.

 

We share the anchorage with one other sailboat, a family of six people with all kinds of “water toys.”  That evening we see them head out, 4 in the dinghy, pulling 1 each on 2 paddle boards, we are certain in an effort to travel across the inlet and take a dip in the hot springs that you can reach via the ocean but not via the trail currently. 

Carl fishes the ling slot a couple of times but for whatever reason, what was a real hot spot coming up the coast now produces no ling.  We chat with 3 kayakers passing through.  Pam asks “is that a dog?”  “No, just a very large cat!  He is my ‘cattain’ of the kayak.” 

After dinner we determine that our boat cabin is 3 somersaults long.  While backing down the companionway steps Carl misses the last steps and does a double backward somersault landing fanny up after the mid cabin “step down.”  Thankfully we can laugh about it after Pam determines that he is OK and he has not broken anything.  One more somersault and he would have been in the V of the boat.  Pam only heard the loud clatter but Carl assures her he vividly was calculating as he rolled along that he was one somersault in but remembering that he still had plenty of momentum to make a 2^nd somersault down and over the “step down” mid-ship.  Such a cool character under stress!

   

We leave the fog enshrouded anchorage with a close watch for the crab pot in the entrance.  Passing Dixon Cove, we see one of the very typical, numerous fish farms that are placed strategically through all these west coast waters.  Then we enter the very narrow entrance to beautiful Bacchante Bay, a recommendation by our friends Walt and Odile and a place that we have enjoyed in the past.  The very large bay is at the end of Shelter Inlet and has steep to sides with high mountains all around.  A sailing ketch is anchored and we see the sailors returning from a kayak and dinghy ride up the creek at high tide.  We will not be able to do that given our arrival time but enjoy seeing them come out and then the dinghy sails for quite some time on the large calm bay.

 Staying only one night we exit the narrow entry and the tiny berg of Ahousat.  We have two options, scenic yet rock strewn Sulphur Passage or the more open Hayden passage.  We time it so we can get to Hayden on a slack tide given the 4-knot current in the area.  As we pass Sulpher we decide to go ahead to Hayden.  Sulpher is pea soup thick fog which would be quite a challenge avoiding the rocks and definitely not allow us to enjoy the “scenic route” at all. 

   

Along the way we fish an underwater rock pile and come away with a very nice, 68 cm ling.  As you can see from the photos you do not want to grab these teethed creatures by the mouth!  Dinner and another fillet for the freezer.  We tie up at the Ahousaht General Store dock knowing that we will not get to see Hugh this trip, but hoping to meet more of his family.  Hugh had been a fixture at this stop since he bought the store in 1958 and we have truly enjoyed visiting with him every time we stop.  He passed away 2 years ago now, at age 83.  We enter the very well stocked store and gather items on our shopping list.  They still have one of the best selections of groceries, hardware, some clothing, books and of course ice cream, of any of the small grocery stores we have found over the years. 

As we pile our treasures on the counter we ask the woman behind the counter, are you related to Hugh? “I am his daughter” she says.  “Oh, the one who was Post Mistress in Tofino for so many years,” Pam asks.  “Yes”!   

We then have quite a conversation with Iris, letting her know that we had learned quite a lot about her as her dad proudly talked about her every time, we saw him.  We knew she was Post Mistress, that she lived close to the post office in Tofino and that Hugh was going to go to live with her at some point.  She sadly talks about his passing, the family frustrations over the will, and her resolve to do what it took to keep the store in the family.  I told her to simply know and understand that her dad was very proud of her and keep that thought close to her heart.  She proudly shows us his headstone that still waits for a family gathering so that it can be placed in the family plot over in Marktosis, just across the way. “It has his logo,” she says, a tear in her eye.  And it does…..the mermaid so intricately carved in the large sign over the door of the general store.  We also meet Tom, Iris’s husband and chat at length with him about the whole situation. 

 As we sit in our cockpit that evening, enjoying a ling cod dinner Pam reflects that for her, this trip has shown that somethings never change and some things are forever changed.  We wish Iris and Tom the best in their endeavor to slowly work on the Ahousaht General Store, docks and hopefully, eventually, the restaurant, shower and laundry. 

We chat with others as they pass the boat on their way up the walk to pay for their fuel.  Two Royal Canadian Mounted Police, a “rich lawyer” (per Tom), and a single dad who has his 4-year-old daughter out for a day of learning how to swim.  “Her mom would be with us, but she passed a year ago,” he says, sadness in his eyes.  “Your daughter is lucky to have you and be learning to swim,” Pam tells him.  As the day winds down we see Iris sitting in the chair, just like her dad did, watching the inlet as boats come and go.

We take this opportunity while tied up at a calm dock, to change the engine oil.  Carl is meticulous about this; every 100 miles and he comes well prepared to do this as needed.  While he lays on his belly to fish the hose down Pam pumps the siphon container.  We upgraded to this very efficient oil pump after having one of the less expensive ones literally blow apart on Carl one time.  Pam can still see his oil covered face, having taken a few photos for posterity before she handed him a rag to clean up with.

The next morning, we head out to Ritchie Bay in hopes of finding crab.  We considered Quate Bay, another favorite of ours and Walt and Odile’s.  It is another lovely bay at the end of the Cypress Inlet.  Back in 2014 we had been without cell coverage for days and in pops a text message from Pam’s sister, Barb. “Your boys are worried about you.  How are things?”  Interesting Pam says to Carl, the worry shoe is on the other foot now, but it is nice to know that others worry about us when we are out in the wilds.  After that trip, we decided to get a Garmin inReach satellite communicator so we can keep friends and family aware of our location whether we have cell coverage or not.  Quait also is the home to loons who sing woefully in the evening and try to land in your spreaders, and a very large, private residence that was once quite the fancy lodge, restaurant and conference center. 

Approaching Ritchie, we start to see commercial crab pots so this is a good sign.  We also see kayakers in search of the Ritchie Bay beaches.  Carl points them in the other direction and they head off, making “beachfall” with maybe just enough twilight to pitch their tents.  

Carl deploys our trap and we end up keeping 6 decent red rock crab, our favorite.  They go into our 5 gallon “live well” that we hang over the side of the boat to keep such critters in salt water until such time as we are ready to clean and cook them.  Carl cleans them and breaks them in half.  Pam cooks them up in the pressure cooker, 6 minutes total and you are done.  The fridge has two large stainless-steel bowls full of fresh cooked crab, enough for 3 meals at least.  We enjoy a leisurely dinner of fresh crab and biscuits baked in our stove top oven, a nice way to pass the evening.

Listening to the weather we decide that tomorrow we will make the 7 plus hour run to Ucluelet as we continue our southward trip.