Princess Louisa - Tuesday August 23 - Wednesday 24, 2011

The Way There

Some have said that entering Princess Louisa Inlet is like entering a cathedral.  Others claim it is the holy grail of the cruising world and still others say nothing at all, as they are left speechless at it's beauty and grandeur.  We fall into the last category.  And yet, I am going to say a lot.

Cruising through the inlet

Chatterbox Falls

Princess Louisa was created by glaciers millions of years ago.  It is surrounded by mountains that are 7,000 feet high and the water is approximately 200 feet deep - rimed with trees and  granite walls that are covered with waterfalls - the largest being Chatterbox Falls, dropping 120 feet, at the head of the inlet.  The first thing you notice when you enter, well, the first thing is of course the beauty,  the second-first thing is the scent.  It smells like Christmas times a zillion.

Fjords in the distance

Princess Louisa can only be reached by boat or plane.  The cruise there starts with approximately 30 miles through a  remote inlet that is also lined with mountains and trees.  We leave at 10 AM as we must be at Malibu Rapids for slack tide at 4 PM.  Malibu Rapids marks the entrance to the actual inlet and is a narrow, "S" shaped channel and boats at one end can't see boats at the other end.  Currents run about 9 knots so passing through can only be done at slack tide.

Once we are "inside" Princess Louisa there is limited space for docking.  There is a public dock but only for boats 50 feet or smaller so we must anchor! Yikes!  Our first anchorage in the Pacific Northwest.  Our first anchorage in this boat.  And..., the water is over 200 feet deep.  We cruise close to shore, very, very close, and finally find water 60-90 feet deep and lower the anchor.  Neither of us is convinced we are actually tethered to the bottom so we spend a sleepless night fretting - actually, I fret, Jim calls it "Anchor Watch" - same thing.



Celestine anchored at the foot of the Fjord

Night falls rapidly as we are encircled by 7,000 foot mountains on 3 sides. Even though it is only 6 PM, it is already dark.  The sky is a small hole above us - like looking through a tube.  It's as if we have fallen down the rabbit hole.  This is no place for claustrophobics.

 Seals are frolicking all over the inlet and it is startingly still.  We have dinner on board, in the dark, and proceed to check tide tables for our departure time the next morning.

No on sleeps much, except the cats, even though the anchor does hold.  We know every inch of shore, having scanned it repeatedly during the night with a spotlight to see if it was getting closer - or further - away.



Morning Fog at the Dock

Morning brings fog which makes us feel like we are in a sci-fi movie.  We have calculated our departure time for 10:30 AM - the time for slack tide listed in the Canadian Hydrographics table, even though this is in contradiction to our cruising guide, based on the American tide table, which states it is at 8:30 AM.  At 7:45 AM we see other boats headed out and realize we need to assume the Canadian tide tables are incorrect.  We must leave immediately, but first we have to raise the dinghy and the anchor.  We do so at record speed.  Bringing the anchor up is easier that letting it down. 

It is my turn to run the boat -  of course Jim brought us through the rapids yesterday during slack high tide  when the channel was 40 feet wide.  I get to maneuver us through the curvy rapids at slack low tide when the channel is significantly more narrow which makes for a white knuckle departure. Jim deals with this scary situation by taking a shower while I take us back to Pender Harbor.

Leaving Paradise

The sights have been remarkable, a journey well worth making.