Desolation Sound - September 3 - September 6, 2011

Entering Desolation Sound

Let's call these days "As the Anchor Turns."  Desolation Sound is part of British Columbia's largest marine parks and the most remote area we have been.  It has over 37 miles of pure wilderness accessible only by boat and not even hospitable to hiking.  The shores are steep rocky slopes leading to craggy hills  leading to boulder-ed  cliffs.  In other words,
there are no marinas, there are no docks to tether to - there is only... The Anchor.

Grace Harbor



Our first three nights are spent in Grace Harbor where we are surrounded by tree covered hills and complete silence - no cars, no planes, no city din.  There are no sounds other than a boat or two put-put-putting to and from the harbor. And of course the sound of us dropping anchor...only the second time we have anchored in the Pacific Northwest. 

We enter the harbor and nab a spot between two other boats.  Jim successfully drops the anchor and chain loudly spills out.  It bites and we are done.  Wait, are we swinging too close to the other boats?  Yes, definitely.  We must raise anchor and move.  Slowly we circle the harbor stalking spots that are not too close to the rocky shore or other boats.  There is no room for us so we decide to leave.  Just as we're  exiting the harbor, we spy a possible space and head back in, first positioning here, no, not quite right, let's go there.  Back and forth several times until we agree on the perfect spot.  Other boaters are now watching us, bemused.  Jim again lowers the anchor, it bites - done.  We are in exactly the same place as where we first started.



Zippy's Business Center

Next, we launch the dinghy to chauffeur Zippy to do his business.  Because the shore is so jaggy and the water leading to it so deep, finding a spot to moor the dinghy is challenging and accompanied by much colorful language from the Dinghy Captain.  When we finally stumble upon a spot where we can ram the dinghy onto shore, it requires a contortionist to actually get out of the boat and hold us.  Jim  gets one foot out, into the water, balancing  on a slime covered rock, his other leg still in the dinghy which is now floating away with me and Zippy.  His splits earn a 9.5.  This routine is repeated 3 times daily and is complicated when the tide has gone out, sometimes 10 - 12 feet.  Then Zippy and I get to step in cold water and scramble up the oyster shell-strewn, ragged, jagged shoreline - all before my morning coffee.

The Chaffeur



 Our isolated stay is not all primitive hunting and gathering.  The Laughing Oyster Restaurant is a 25 mintue dinghy ride away and we decide to head out.  The ride there is spectacular, and so is the food.  Quite possibly the best dinner we have had since leaving Seattle.

The Government Dock at Laughing Oyster

The View - So Beautiful It Hurts my Eyes

Our Dinner

Prideaux Haven is our next stop and it is even more beautiful, considered the jewel of Desolation Sound.  The anchoring goes very smoothly - the first time out.  After we are safely tethered we board the dinghy and head out to explore.  On our way back to the mother ship another Selene enters the harbor and it is our friends Kathy and Mike from Elliott Bay in Seattle.  You just never know who you'll run into.  It's their 40th wedding anniversay and our last night here  is spent under a full moon celebrating with them. 



Prideaux Haven



An evening in Desolation Sound



Starfish at low tide

I'm getting adjusted to anchoring and feel confident that we won't drift away. I"m still not used to swinging 360 degrees in a circle, over and over.  It's disconcerting to glance out the window and see a completely different view every fifteen minutes - but then again, it's like being anchored in 360 different places - without moving the anchor.  That I like. 



The Grandeur of Desolation Sound