Desolation Sound Re-visited
Ten years had elapsed since our last Desolation Sound cruise. This year we chose to go in September, hoping to find fewer boats vying for anchoring space than in July and August. After all, school would be in session and most families had to be back home and organized for that part of their lives. That did not mean no one would be there, just less people. We found that to be true.
Since the normal summer weather had not materialized for days on end as one would hope, we were banking on an Indian summer in September. We had that as well. The rains at the beginning of our trip dried up by the time we got to the Gulf Islands in Canada. Once we entered Desolation Sound, the picture-perfect scenery made such an impact on our eyes with the still waters reflecting everything so beautifully—from trees to anchored boats to the mountain peaks. Just like a mirror!
Our 669 nautical mile trip began Tuesday, August 26, when we left Hylebos Marina in Tacoma and struck out north and west across Puget Sound for Bremerton, where we met Dick and Donna Thompson on Dona M, long-term cruising friends. From there we re-crossed to Everett to catch up with Dawn, Larry and Megan to hear about their maiden voyage adventures on Southern Belle, the newest member of their family. Like most “shake-downs,” they had some interesting experiences, but survived and learned a lot.
On to Anacortes to fuel up and get the crab traps baited. Two nights at Spencer Spit on Lopez Island netted us a whole bunch of Dungeness crabs, some to eat then and some to freeze for later. Also, Lois Ludwig visited. She had been an inspiration in critiquing my tales aboard the TEKA boat, now ready to do the publishing rounds. A couple of days at anchor in Sucia gave us opportunity to stretch our legs and explore some of the shoreline indentations on a five mile hike.
Entering Canada at Bedwell Harbour, we found the station no longer “manned.” A telephone call did the trick with obtaining a customs number for the duration of our visit. Montague Harbour, Dodds Narrows, and Newcastle Island were the same as before. In Nanaimo we caught up with Margaret on Iron Maiden, and learned that her mate, Neil, had died of a stroke, yet she is still carrying on the business of selling fresh seafood—crab and prawns—dockside from their boat. We had not seen her in the ten years we had been traveling in Europe, and promised that we will keep in better touch now that we are local again.
On to Comox to meet dear friends, Alex and Joanne Gray, Duke and Melva Warren, and Cathy Rees. Alex had been checking with the Government wharf people about space for us each day. They did not take reservations, but it looked like there would be no problem. That is, until we actually arrived. The dock master had taken a long lunch that day so no one answered the VHF radio call. We passed the three dock fingers and looked longingly for a space. One man jumped out of his boat and shouted, “I think there is room on the last dock. I will go check.” So we turned around and slowly meandered that way. He quickly checked it out and waved us in. It meant we had to reverse past several large fishing vessels to get to the last spot at the end. When we got there, it was a 50-foot spot; we measured 52-feet. Lucky for us, folks on the dock catching our lines, manipulated the extra needed space by moving a sailboat back two feet. All tied up we had fun with our friends, and two surprises. Desert Venture who we met in April this year in Oregon, and Daisy, a boat we first met on the Intracoastal Waterway in Georgia (2000) were also there. It is a small world, believe me!
The current past Cape Mudge made us struggle to make way. We putted along at 1.9 knots into Campbell River and their new marina, Discovery Harbour, a snazzy place. We assisted a larger boat tie up in front of us, and they reciprocated by giving us hints on where to do hunter-gather stuff in Desolation Sound from their most recent experience.
Son David and friend, Summer, arrived from San Diego to do Desolation with us for nine days. We visited such haunts as Tenedos Bay, Roffey Cove, Roscoe Bay, Walsh Cove, Squirrel Cove, and Rebecca Spit to gather oysters, clams, prawns, mussels, fish, blackberries and apples. We hiked and swam, ate very well and enjoyed being one with nature. The reflections on the still water made magnificent images. On photos it might be difficult to tell up from down with the detail so specific.
David and Summer on bow as we approached Desolation Sound
oyster harvesting
David and Summer swimming in “cool water”
Teka III resting at Roffey Cove Anchorage
David with his rockfish catch at Walsh Cove.
As well as the swim at Black Lake, a logging trail hike to a beaver pond and beyond called us. Denis and I only went up 600 feet; David and Summer went all the way to the top, 2240 feet. At Walsh Cove we watched as some men in a fast boat slowed down and stopped to pull up our prawn trap, only to drop it and scoot when Denis fired up the dinghy where they were fishing nearby and started towards them. I had stayed on board and with my binoculars tried to will them away, by staring. Their action worked better than mine. The next morning, before we could retrieve our trap, they came back by. After hauling up 500 feet of line to see what had climbed into the trap during the night, disappointment showed on our faces when the count came up to be 8. We must have been robbed, but no way to prove it.
In Squirrel Cove we stopped to talk to a German boat that had come from Europe via Chili, New Zealand, Hawaii, and now Canada. Most of the other boats in anchorages were the same ones moving at our speed and in our direction each day.
FOG hit the morning we moved on to Rebecca Spit. Thick too! Radar and chart plotter helped us find our way. Only once did a boat come near and it crossed our bow quite close, the crew standing on deck, smiling and waving.
We returned to Campbell River so David and Summer could catch their flight back to San Diego. I managed to contact friends, Barney and Darlene Bernard, now retired RCMP, and did some catching up while waiting for the airport van. My brother had asked me over the phone from Sacramento, “Does your RCMP friends know Sgt. Preston and his dog, King?” So I asked. Answer; “I trained him!”
From Campbell River to Victoria, the rains came back. Our beautiful weather lasted as long as we needed it, for which we were thankful. In Victoria we picked up Steve Erickson for the Seattle haul, and were surprised to find Amanda Glickman, from Papa Rhuma, also waiting at the Victoria Clipper pier for her friend. We had not seen her since the Black Sea Rally in 2004 when 37 boats circumnavigated the Black Sea, visiting six countries in the process. Her boat then was Darwin’s Passage.
On to Seattle via an overnight stop in LaConner to catch up with friends, Clark and Joan Scarboro on Watermusic. At Elliott Bay Marina, I bailed out to fetch the car while Denis and Steve took the boat back to Hylebos Marina Sunday, September 28. That way we had a ride back to Seattle once we tucked the boat into her slip to await her next journey.
The End