When I began the process of recruiting crew for this little adventure up the Inside Passage, I imagined finding people on crew matching websites, advertising my intentions and offering to get to know whomever expressed interest by doing some sailing. Before investigating the websites that might be available, however, I began attending events that seemed likely to introduce me to like minded people. I joined the Corinthian Yacht Club and attended one of their monthly meet-and-greets. It was there that I met Frederic and Marta who joined me for two segments between Prince Rupert and Juneau. For one of those segments we were joined by their son and daughter Jake and Emily.
Then Tina alerted me to a Seattle Mountaineers event where a woman presented slides and talk about her solo trip up the Inside Passage in a sea kayak. At that event I was greeted at the door by Kay, who has turned out to be the ideal recruit for this trip. She quickly committed to doing the entire trip, which resolved any anxiety I might have had about having to do parts of the trip solo. She also volunteered to take on the gargantuan task of nonperishable provisioning. Shortly after agreeing to join me on the trip, she was on board with her daughter Emily, notebook and tape measure in hand, taking inventory and assessing locker space. Talk about initiative. She is the go-to-gal for so much that goes on on this boat. Every time we tie up in a town, she is on shore laundering the boat towels and restocking provisions. She's made it her mission to learn everything there is to know about operating the boat and she does an amazing job of sharing that information with new crew members. And she's a tour de force in the galley. Her brownies are to die for. I and every other crew member on this trip are so lucky to have her with us.
Tina turned out to be a great source for crew recruitment. It's in her nature to find what needs to be found and she's good at it, so when I started looking for crew, she did too. Her colleagues in the Seattle School District have some time to burn during the summer months, so she put the word out. We soon had six more people joining us for various segments: Vi, Tom, Wendy, Jerry, Mary Lou, and Knute. With friends Tina, Bob, Sue, Lavanya, and Jason, that gave us a total of seventeen in all doing one or more segments of this trip.
As I said in the introduction to this blog back in April, the primary qualifier for joining us is to be easy to get along with. Recruiting friends or by word of mouth helps insure that qualification is met. My plans to recruit using crew matching websites made me a little nervous. A week in a 37' space can be a long time to spend with someone if you don't get along with them. Thanks to Tina's help recruiting, to Kay agreeing to do the whole trip, and to every member of the Quijote crew willing to invest their time and energy into making it happen, every segment of the trip was covered with two or more people. Outstanding. I made the decision to be happy with the numbers I had and not try to bring unknown people into the mix.
As it turns out, the segments have been occupied by such a diverse mixture of personalities, abilities and interests, but every person that has come on board has been able bodied, easy to be with, and eager to learn and contribute. I've been so incredibly lucky. I couldn't have asked for better crew. Thank you all.
August 21, 2016
Day 98 - Quijote Comfort
It's a bimeny kind of day - shorts, bare feet and sunscreen. We're half way down the Strait of Georgia in Tribune Bay, a bay that could probably handle hundreds of boats at anchor. By Knute's count, there are 58 boats in here at the moment. That's the high water mark for this trip. Welcome back to the real world.
Knute and Mary Lou head for home from Nanaimo tomorrow as Kay and I enter our final week of the trip. As August and this adventure wind down it is only now starting to feel like summer to me.
Throughout the last three months we've seen many warm days, but very few hot days; many cool days, but very few cold days; many wet days, but very few days of driving rain or sustained rain; many sunny days, but very few clear days; many windy days, but very few days over 25 knots and very few days that didn't get above 10 knots. All in all it has been a very comfortable trip.
Knute and Mary Lou head for home from Nanaimo tomorrow as Kay and I enter our final week of the trip. As August and this adventure wind down it is only now starting to feel like summer to me.
Throughout the last three months we've seen many warm days, but very few hot days; many cool days, but very few cold days; many wet days, but very few days of driving rain or sustained rain; many sunny days, but very few clear days; many windy days, but very few days over 25 knots and very few days that didn't get above 10 knots. All in all it has been a very comfortable trip.
Day 97 - Paradise
We needed two hours to get to Seymour Narrows from our from our anchorage in Granite Bay this morning. The moon was full, giving us a full tide. That meant Tht meant the current sent from twelve knots in one direction to thirteen knots in the other in the space of roughly six hours. With that rate of change, really needed to hit it at slack: spot on.
Thankfully we did, riding the flood for those two hours and arriving less than five minutes hours. After shooting through, we plowed through a rising ebb until we were past Campbell River and slogging into 5.5 knots of current. The boat speed indicator showed us charing through the water at 7 knots, but the GPS showed our speed over ground as 1.5 knots. After an eternity, we finally rounded Cape Mudge and were on our way to Desolation Sound and a new kind of challenge: anchoring in a crowd.
We had Prideaux Haven in mind, but the more we read about it, the unlikely it sounded that we would be able to (or want to) shoehorn our way into what was certain to be a crowded cove. Douglass advised Laura Cove for more seclusion. Winding our way into the narrow entrance, we found a dozen other boats enjoying our "seclusion." They were stern tied to shore in the tiny circular cove like wedges in a pie.
We made a hasty retreat and found relative seclusion, or as much as can be expected in the neighborhood, in a small ad hoc nook around the corner. What a difference. We still had to stern tie, but there was plenty of room around us for swimming, kayaking, and rowing the dingy around our own little island. We kept expecting the hoards to encroach on our little corner of paradise, but they left us alone, perhaps because it was a nook that wasn't described in any of their books and in all likelihood, they feared the unknown.
Thankfully we did, riding the flood for those two hours and arriving less than five minutes hours. After shooting through, we plowed through a rising ebb until we were past Campbell River and slogging into 5.5 knots of current. The boat speed indicator showed us charing through the water at 7 knots, but the GPS showed our speed over ground as 1.5 knots. After an eternity, we finally rounded Cape Mudge and were on our way to Desolation Sound and a new kind of challenge: anchoring in a crowd.
We had Prideaux Haven in mind, but the more we read about it, the unlikely it sounded that we would be able to (or want to) shoehorn our way into what was certain to be a crowded cove. Douglass advised Laura Cove for more seclusion. Winding our way into the narrow entrance, we found a dozen other boats enjoying our "seclusion." They were stern tied to shore in the tiny circular cove like wedges in a pie.
We made a hasty retreat and found relative seclusion, or as much as can be expected in the neighborhood, in a small ad hoc nook around the corner. What a difference. We still had to stern tie, but there was plenty of room around us for swimming, kayaking, and rowing the dingy around our own little island. We kept expecting the hoards to encroach on our little corner of paradise, but they left us alone, perhaps because it was a nook that wasn't described in any of their books and in all likelihood, they feared the unknown.
Day 96 - Heating up
Our second day of traveling through Johnstone Strait today was a glorious, sunny day without the excessive winds we saw yesterday. We've been sailing directly downwind for the last couple of days, as is often the case in a channel. Channels funnel the winds, so they are normally following or in your face. Johnstone Straight is wide though, so it hasn't been necessary to gybe too frequently; just enough to keep things interesting. Today the traffic was heavier, and the challenges due to tidal currents a bit more constraining, so we motor- sailed for much of the day. The propeller gave us half our power and the jib provided the other half in 10 to 14 knots of wind. Awesome day!
We found Granite Bay (one of three anchorages inside Kanish Bay,) to be secure and well protected. It's lined with a few homes, has signs of log storage from previous decades and there's a public dock that must be newer than our guide book because no mention is made of it.
The afternoon was hot with a light breeze, so I jumped off the back of the boat and went for a swim. Afterward, it was nice to dinghy ashore and explore a bit. We found signs to a short trail leading to a few small lakes. It was great to stretch our legs, even if it did just take us to more beautiful views of water. Oh boy.
Tomorrow we'll be up at oh-dark-thirty to get through Seymour Narrows at a reasonable hour. Then it's off to the races and back into Desolation Sound for a couple of days. If this weather holds it should be a great couple of days. It's certainly heating up.
We found Granite Bay (one of three anchorages inside Kanish Bay,) to be secure and well protected. It's lined with a few homes, has signs of log storage from previous decades and there's a public dock that must be newer than our guide book because no mention is made of it.
The afternoon was hot with a light breeze, so I jumped off the back of the boat and went for a swim. Afterward, it was nice to dinghy ashore and explore a bit. We found signs to a short trail leading to a few small lakes. It was great to stretch our legs, even if it did just take us to more beautiful views of water. Oh boy.
Tomorrow we'll be up at oh-dark-thirty to get through Seymour Narrows at a reasonable hour. Then it's off to the races and back into Desolation Sound for a couple of days. If this weather holds it should be a great couple of days. It's certainly heating up.
Day 95 - Blustery Bay
The day started off mildly enough. It was Mary Lou's and Knute's first night on board. We enjoyed a fine meal in Port McNeill and a good night's sleep. Then we were off with the rising tide into a calm, sunny day.
Listening to the forecast for gale force winds, it was hard to give the meteorologists much credit. Light winds came and went all morning with hardly enough to sail in. Finally, after mid-day the winds were steady enough to hoist the sails and we enjoyed a few hours of down wind sailing in the sunshine. Perfect!
When the winds crawled up into the mid twenties, it was breezy enough to shorten the sails, but by then we were close enough to our anchorage that we decided to bring them in all together. It was well that we did. We'd no sooner put them away than we started seeing wind speeds in the thirties. I guess the weather forecasters knew what they were talking about after all.
Now that we're securely anchored in Blenkensop Bay, it's still blowing in the twenties. It's only marginally calmer than it is out in the strait, but we have all our chain out and plenty of swinging room. The boat is swinging around the bay like a drunken bar maid while Knute and Mary Lou are down below whipping up dinner. It's grilled chicken burgers tonight; the barbecue didn't sound like such a great idea in that wind.
Listening to the forecast for gale force winds, it was hard to give the meteorologists much credit. Light winds came and went all morning with hardly enough to sail in. Finally, after mid-day the winds were steady enough to hoist the sails and we enjoyed a few hours of down wind sailing in the sunshine. Perfect!
When the winds crawled up into the mid twenties, it was breezy enough to shorten the sails, but by then we were close enough to our anchorage that we decided to bring them in all together. It was well that we did. We'd no sooner put them away than we started seeing wind speeds in the thirties. I guess the weather forecasters knew what they were talking about after all.
Now that we're securely anchored in Blenkensop Bay, it's still blowing in the twenties. It's only marginally calmer than it is out in the strait, but we have all our chain out and plenty of swinging room. The boat is swinging around the bay like a drunken bar maid while Knute and Mary Lou are down below whipping up dinner. It's grilled chicken burgers tonight; the barbecue didn't sound like such a great idea in that wind.
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