Our cruising season has begun! We had great weather while preparing Tenacious for cruising. We spent our first night after leaving our home dock as guests at the Royal Vancouver Yacht 
Club. Our dear friends Bruce and Ida are members, and they arranged for our overnight moorage and treated us to a fabulous dinner on the Club deck that looks out over English Bay and the panorama of the Vancouver skyline. Such a perfect beginning!
Our third night out we anchored in a little bay and almost had a run-in with another boat – literally. A 40’ sailboat came in to the anchorage late in the evening while we were belowdecks. The wind was forecast to rise overnight, and when Patrick did his customary pre-bed check of everything, it was gusting 25 to 30 knots, even in the sheltered bay. Our new neighbor had dropped anchor WAY too close to us, and as Tenacious swung with the wind on 225’ of anchor chain, the two boats were within 25 feet or less of each other. We were in 70’ of water, and a 3:1 ratio of anchor rode to depth is bare minimum for safety in these waters. A 5:1 ratio is preferred but not always practical in a small, populated anchorage.
The floating neighbors finally came up on the deck of their boat. When Patrick called out to ask if they would mind letting out more anchor line, they replied (somewhat elliptically) that their anchor was holding just fine. It turned out that they had anchored in the same 70’ depth that we had, and they only had 150’ of anchor line. They clearly didn’t know what they were doing. We took in some of our anchor chain to widen the distance between the boats (putting our own anchor set at more risk) and spent a restless night, waking every so often to check on the situation. We guessed that they had probably chartered the boat they were on, and had little experience on this coast.
At around 6 am, I heard the rattle of anchor chain. Our rookie neighbors slunk out of the anchorage at first light… (click on http://womensvoicesforchange.org/tenacious-on-desolation-sound.htm to link to a more complete published feature story.)
June 16-18 Matilpi and the Latest in Bears
We had a great passage up to Matilpi, one of my favorite anchorages and the site of an abandoned First Nation village, complete with pretty white shell midden beaches. Our second afternoon there, while I was beachcombing in the late afternoon, I looked up to find a bear staring at me. We were in a small section of beach, bordered by trees and rocks, and as we just looked at each other for those first seconds, I really wasn’t afraid. I had time to try to calculate how
far apart we were (I estimate about 30 feet) and how much he weighed. I though he was around 200 pounds and probably a yearling bear, out on his own for his first summer without his mother.
I thought I should call Pat to come and get me, and as I pulled out my walkie-talkie, I started to back away from the bear, trying to look "big" and sloshing backwards in the shallows toward a small rock-strewn ravine with a creek at the bottom that bisected the beach. While Pat and I talked on the radio, I kept my eye on the bear. Moments later he calmly turned and walked back up in to the forest.
A few deep breaths later, I decided I’d stay – but on the other, larger part of the beach – and called off the rescue. I needed to cross the tidal creek to get there, and the creek bed was treacherous with seaweed and unstable rocks; I had to watch where I was walking. I was halfway across when I looked up again. And there was that bear, about 35 feet ahead of me. He had gone up into the forest and must have sprinted through the underbrush t
o get to the other side of the beach ahead of me.
I gave up. Another quick radio call and Captain Pat came speedily to my rescue. The bear, unperturbed by the humans or the dinghy motor, went about his business of turning over boulder-sized rocks on the shoreline, looking for shore crabs to eat. We floated in the dinghy and watched him all the way down the shoreline until he ambled back up in to the woods. He was a mighty nice bear!
June 18-21 Pierre’s at Echo Bay
Club. Our dear friends Bruce and Ida are members, and they arranged for our overnight moorage and treated us to a fabulous dinner on the Club deck that looks out over English Bay and the panorama of the Vancouver skyline. Such a perfect beginning!Our third night out we anchored in a little bay and almost had a run-in with another boat – literally. A 40’ sailboat came in to the anchorage late in the evening while we were belowdecks. The wind was forecast to rise overnight, and when Patrick did his customary pre-bed check of everything, it was gusting 25 to 30 knots, even in the sheltered bay. Our new neighbor had dropped anchor WAY too close to us, and as Tenacious swung with the wind on 225’ of anchor chain, the two boats were within 25 feet or less of each other. We were in 70’ of water, and a 3:1 ratio of anchor rode to depth is bare minimum for safety in these waters. A 5:1 ratio is preferred but not always practical in a small, populated anchorage.
The floating neighbors finally came up on the deck of their boat. When Patrick called out to ask if they would mind letting out more anchor line, they replied (somewhat elliptically) that their anchor was holding just fine. It turned out that they had anchored in the same 70’ depth that we had, and they only had 150’ of anchor line. They clearly didn’t know what they were doing. We took in some of our anchor chain to widen the distance between the boats (putting our own anchor set at more risk) and spent a restless night, waking every so often to check on the situation. We guessed that they had probably chartered the boat they were on, and had little experience on this coast.
At around 6 am, I heard the rattle of anchor chain. Our rookie neighbors slunk out of the anchorage at first light… (click on http://womensvoicesforchange.org/tenacious-on-desolation-sound.htm to link to a more complete published feature story.)
June 16-18 Matilpi and the Latest in Bears
We had a great passage up to Matilpi, one of my favorite anchorages and the site of an abandoned First Nation village, complete with pretty white shell midden beaches. Our second afternoon there, while I was beachcombing in the late afternoon, I looked up to find a bear staring at me. We were in a small section of beach, bordered by trees and rocks, and as we just looked at each other for those first seconds, I really wasn’t afraid. I had time to try to calculate how
far apart we were (I estimate about 30 feet) and how much he weighed. I though he was around 200 pounds and probably a yearling bear, out on his own for his first summer without his mother.I thought I should call Pat to come and get me, and as I pulled out my walkie-talkie, I started to back away from the bear, trying to look "big" and sloshing backwards in the shallows toward a small rock-strewn ravine with a creek at the bottom that bisected the beach. While Pat and I talked on the radio, I kept my eye on the bear. Moments later he calmly turned and walked back up in to the forest.
A few deep breaths later, I decided I’d stay – but on the other, larger part of the beach – and called off the rescue. I needed to cross the tidal creek to get there, and the creek bed was treacherous with seaweed and unstable rocks; I had to watch where I was walking. I was halfway across when I looked up again. And there was that bear, about 35 feet ahead of me. He had gone up into the forest and must have sprinted through the underbrush t
o get to the other side of the beach ahead of me.I gave up. Another quick radio call and Captain Pat came speedily to my rescue. The bear, unperturbed by the humans or the dinghy motor, went about his business of turning over boulder-sized rocks on the shoreline, looking for shore crabs to eat. We floated in the dinghy and watched him all the way down the shoreline until he ambled back up in to the woods. He was a mighty nice bear!
June 18-21 Pierre’s at Echo Bay
We had another great experience at Pierre’s marina at Echo Bay. It's the place that has pig roasts on Saturday nights during the summer, and boaters from all over flock to the pot-luck events. It all takes place under a big tent on a huge concrete float that was once a section of a floating bridge in Seattle. We, along with a few other boaters, came in to the marina a couple of days early to help Pierre get ready. More hands are always needed; Patrick repaired two pressure washers, an outboard motor and Pierre’s electric drill, and built some shelves and a step up to the floating lodge and any number of other jobs. I helped unload the boatful of supplies for the little grocery store there, and priced and shelved everything from Cheetos to chocolate sauce.
While we were there, I had a pleasant interlude when I hitched a dinghy ride with some other boaters to visit the home/studio of Yvonne Maximchuk, a local artist whose acrylics and watercolors I have admired (and coveted) for years. She is also a potter and has been experimenting with some intriguing crystal glazes. It was great fun to tour her eclectic home and hear about all of her creative ideas as she and her husband continue to finish building it. Her beautiful garden was a special treat. She sent
each of us home with a huge, fragrant pink peony. I have had mine on the table in the upper salon for days. It’s wilting, but I can’t bear to throw it away, it still smells heavenly.
The day of Pierre’s pig roast, the authors of our favorite cruising guide, Bob and Marilynn Hale, came in to Pierre's. They publish the Waggoner's Cruising Guide. My friend Colleen and I planned to hike over the fairly challenging trail to Billy Proctor’s Museum and we invited them to hike with us. Billy's Museum is a treasure trove of local historical memorabilia he has collected over his lifetime of fishing, logging and exploring this coast. It includes everything from ancient stone tools to early 20th century fishing and logging gear. We all had a wonderful visit with Billy, who identified a couple of artifacts I had found. One was a twisted copper nose ring (!) quite similar to others that he had in the museum. Bob Hale brought a video recorder so that he could capture some of Billy’s stories on tape. Billy is a national treasure himself – I think Canadian public television should interview him for a television special.
We walked over to see the progress on the nearby log cabin that our friend and survivalist Nikki Van Schyndel is building by hand. Over the past couple of years she has found, cut, trimmed, notched, fitted and raised all of the logs with the occasional help of a couple of friends. She now has a spaciou
s one-room cabin with a roomy sleeping loft. They just put the roof up and it’s ready for windows and some chinking. It’s SO solid. It looks out on the water where we first saw Nikki in her rowboat several years ago.
While we were there, I had a pleasant interlude when I hitched a dinghy ride with some other boaters to visit the home/studio of Yvonne Maximchuk, a local artist whose acrylics and watercolors I have admired (and coveted) for years. She is also a potter and has been experimenting with some intriguing crystal glazes. It was great fun to tour her eclectic home and hear about all of her creative ideas as she and her husband continue to finish building it. Her beautiful garden was a special treat. She sent
each of us home with a huge, fragrant pink peony. I have had mine on the table in the upper salon for days. It’s wilting, but I can’t bear to throw it away, it still smells heavenly.The day of Pierre’s pig roast, the authors of our favorite cruising guide, Bob and Marilynn Hale, came in to Pierre's. They publish the Waggoner's Cruising Guide. My friend Colleen and I planned to hike over the fairly challenging trail to Billy Proctor’s Museum and we invited them to hike with us. Billy's Museum is a treasure trove of local historical memorabilia he has collected over his lifetime of fishing, logging and exploring this coast. It includes everything from ancient stone tools to early 20th century fishing and logging gear. We all had a wonderful visit with Billy, who identified a couple of artifacts I had found. One was a twisted copper nose ring (!) quite similar to others that he had in the museum. Bob Hale brought a video recorder so that he could capture some of Billy’s stories on tape. Billy is a national treasure himself – I think Canadian public television should interview him for a television special.
We walked over to see the progress on the nearby log cabin that our friend and survivalist Nikki Van Schyndel is building by hand. Over the past couple of years she has found, cut, trimmed, notched, fitted and raised all of the logs with the occasional help of a couple of friends. She now has a spaciou
s one-room cabin with a roomy sleeping loft. They just put the roof up and it’s ready for windows and some chinking. It’s SO solid. It looks out on the water where we first saw Nikki in her rowboat several years ago. On Saturday night we sat with our friends Lorne and Colleen and the Hales for the pig roast. A group of 42 Rotarians came over from Port McNeill – a good time was had by all.
We left the next morning for Blunden Harbour, but Mother Nature had other plans. We listened to the weather report for the Queen Charlotte Strait, which we had to transit for part of the way, and it didn’t sound very attractive. We have been fooled by weather reports before, however, so we thought we’d give it a try and stick our nose out to see how bad it really was. As we got to the end of Wells Passage, we found the wind gusting at over 30 kno
ts and we were in 4-foot seas before we even got to the strait. The cats were absolutely miserable, and I had to clean up the results of their digestive displeasure… so we ducked back in to a very protected little anchorage we hadn’t been in before and spent a quiet night. There was an old, abandoned logging camp in the bay and we spotted a watchman on shore...
June 22-26 Beachcombing at Blunden Harbour
We are in Blunden Harbour now and having cold and rain. Looks like our glorious spring sunshine is on hiatus for a while. I’ve been spending hours and hours on the beach each day, hunting for beads and having some pretty good luck. Today I found a HUGE black bead, the largest I’ve ever found at about ¾ of an inch across. Yesterday I found a very pretty blue glass bottle, about 10 inches high and quite narrow, perhaps an old tonic or patent medicine bottle. It’s quite old and unbroken, the glass surface is satiny with wear. Pat says it was mold-blown and has an applied lip. It was rolling along the bottom, just below the tide line.
We left the next morning for Blunden Harbour, but Mother Nature had other plans. We listened to the weather report for the Queen Charlotte Strait, which we had to transit for part of the way, and it didn’t sound very attractive. We have been fooled by weather reports before, however, so we thought we’d give it a try and stick our nose out to see how bad it really was. As we got to the end of Wells Passage, we found the wind gusting at over 30 kno
ts and we were in 4-foot seas before we even got to the strait. The cats were absolutely miserable, and I had to clean up the results of their digestive displeasure… so we ducked back in to a very protected little anchorage we hadn’t been in before and spent a quiet night. There was an old, abandoned logging camp in the bay and we spotted a watchman on shore...June 22-26 Beachcombing at Blunden Harbour
We are in Blunden Harbour now and having cold and rain. Looks like our glorious spring sunshine is on hiatus for a while. I’ve been spending hours and hours on the beach each day, hunting for beads and having some pretty good luck. Today I found a HUGE black bead, the largest I’ve ever found at about ¾ of an inch across. Yesterday I found a very pretty blue glass bottle, about 10 inches high and quite narrow, perhaps an old tonic or patent medicine bottle. It’s quite old and unbroken, the glass surface is satiny with wear. Pat says it was mold-blown and has an applied lip. It was rolling along the bottom, just below the tide line.
My beach attire lately has included long underwear (top and bottom), a turtleneck, a hooded sweatshirt, jeans, rainpants, baseball cap and hooded rain jacket. Between rain showers I can slip off the rain jacket hood. Brrr…
One evening we took the dinghy and had tea and chocolates with new friends aboard their boat. Another night we hosted a pot-luck crab feed. Patrick has honed his skills as a crab hunter to the point where he can tell the size and sex of a crab while standing up in the dinghy, poling himself around in the shallow water at low tide. He searches for them as the dropping tide chases them down the shoreline, and he spots them among the eel grass and sea lettuce. Only males that are over a certain size are legal to take, and he ended up getting 18 huge Dungeness crabs for us while we were in Blunden – plenty to enjoy for several dinners, including the crab feed with two other couples. The cats have been eating well, too. They are starting to expect fresh crab at every meal.
It’s in the 50s here this late afternoon and I’m baking cranberry-orange bread for breakfast, and to warm the boat. If the weather cooperates we’ll backtrack a bit to Port McNeill to re-stock on fresh vegetables and other supplies, then continue north around Cape Caution. We’ll keep you posted.
One evening we took the dinghy and had tea and chocolates with new friends aboard their boat. Another night we hosted a pot-luck crab feed. Patrick has honed his skills as a crab hunter to the point where he can tell the size and sex of a crab while standing up in the dinghy, poling himself around in the shallow water at low tide. He searches for them as the dropping tide chases them down the shoreline, and he spots them among the eel grass and sea lettuce. Only males that are over a certain size are legal to take, and he ended up getting 18 huge Dungeness crabs for us while we were in Blunden – plenty to enjoy for several dinners, including the crab feed with two other couples. The cats have been eating well, too. They are starting to expect fresh crab at every meal.
It’s in the 50s here this late afternoon and I’m baking cranberry-orange bread for breakfast, and to warm the boat. If the weather cooperates we’ll backtrack a bit to Port McNeill to re-stock on fresh vegetables and other supplies, then continue north around Cape Caution. We’ll keep you posted.
