Ocean Falls, May, 12th, A Ghost Town

The trip to Ocean Falls

 After reluctantly departing Pruth Bay we decide on a side trip to Ocean Falls, off the beaten track, leading nowhere else and a deliberate destination choice. 


The approach is impressive with a high-rise in the center of town and a waterfall cascading from a dam.  Not even in Campbell River, population of 2,700, did we see high-rise buildings.  Turns out, however, that these building are vacant.  Windows are blown out, houses half gone, walls collapsed and a shower door swinging in the breeze.  This is a modern day ghost town – population 6-8, depending on whom you ask, number 6 or number 8.


Cousins Channel Entrance

Ocean Falls

Back in the early 1900s this was a booming metropolis with a saw mill, a population of 5,000  and a school with a billiard room and saloon – and I mean in the school. Now, the dam predominates and makes electricity for nearby island communities.  A fishery has also opened but other than transient workers, the town remains deserted.

Walking off the dock onto land, a sign points to a grocery store – hours Monday, Wednesday and Friday, 3 PM – 5 PM  -  as well as to a bar in the neighboring town of Martin Valley, population 25 – 40, depending on whom you ask.  Being a Saturday night, Jim and I decide to hike over to the bar – seems like a friendly thing to do, plunk down a few dollars for a brew or two and pump a little cash into the community. It’s about  1 1/2 miles and we are parched by the time we arrive but  alas, the saloon is closed.  Well, it is only 7PM, maybe they catch a later clientele.  No, we find out from a local, they cater to the grocery crowd, the bar being open Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

View from our Walk



So Many Choices - So Little Time

Back in town we chat with the new owners of Darke Waters Inn, 5 of the 8 Ocean Falls residents.  They are an enthusiastic couple, already lodging 10 loggers and fellers – and don’t call a “feller” a logger.  

They hope to have an adventure themed retreat but with the absence of amenities and the abundance of rain – it is the wettest spot in BC with an average of 14.5 feet – yes, inches are just not sufficient  to measure the volume of water pouring down on “the rain people”- and a destination only accessible by boat or float plane, they may be overly optimistic.  

And really, they need to clean up that large pile of fresh bear scat in the middle of the road, for a number of reasons, if they want to attract tourists.  And we hope they do at  Darke Waters in Ocean Falls.

Electrical Outlet Boxes

Pruth Bay, Calvert Island, May 10 & 11: Paradise Found

Anchoring – this is what I have dreaded leading up to this trip and now we are in a secluded and remote bay that requires we do it.  I’ve given myself pep talks and used positive visualization techniques and all I can really picture is us tied to a dock.  And this trip is all about anchoring in the wilderness, not docking in cute island towns.  

So after our 9 hour, mostly grueling, passage from Port McNeill, we are now faced with this.  We’re at a perfect looking spot in 60 feet of water near the shore and Jim heave-hos the anchor and 225 feet of chain follow it down the drink until it grips the mud and we’re set.  But are we really?  I can’t see that anchor down there and now my visualization skills  kick into high gear and I see  us floating away.  And that’s what keeps me awake at night.

View at Twilight from our Anchorage in Pruth Bay

Pruth Bay

The next morning we are still in the same place as we were last night when we went to bed so I calm down and we jump into the dinghy with Zippy and motor around the corner and over to the head of the bay.  This is the site of an old fishing lodge that has been privatized by a foundation that opened the Hakai Beach Institute, an environmental organization.  They have cabins that house students from various universities as well as archeologists engaged in research.

Remote and Raw

Our own research takes us across a public path to the west side of Calvert Island to a cove  that is inaccessible by boat, plane or car.  To say that it is spectacularly gorgeous is to diminish its beauty.   We spend a couple of hours walking  the remote beach and exploring in sheer wonderment.  We later found out that if you sit on the driftwood and wait, wolves wander onto the beach. Even Zippy understands the magnificence of the place demonstrating an enhanced level of enthusiasm – or maybe it was just that he was happy to be off the boat.  

Enjoying the wilderness

On the way back to the boat, our dinghy motor fails and just to show what a state of Zen we’re in, we simply shrug.  Several hours later, after Zippy is jumping in circles and crossing his legs, it dawns on us that we have no way to get Zippy to shore for potty duty – but wait – we have the Loo-Liner.  

The homely orange float, which we brought with us for just such an eventuality, is worthless.  It sits too low in the water, is unsafe for the three of us and it's too tippy for Zippy, or us.  We snap to plan C;  kayaks to the rescue.  So every time Zippy has business on shore, we paddle – 20 minutes to shore, 20 minutes back from shore – 20 minutes to shore....  we’ve got to get that dinghy motor fixed.

Seals Watching our Paddling to and Fro

 After two nights anchored in this peaceful and picturesque spot where we are the only boat, I have to reevaluate my entire anti-anchoring position - which I will do next time we are securely docked. 

Leaving Paradise

Queen Charlotte Sound: Held Captive No More

“A great, great deal has been said about the weather, but very little has been done about it.”              Mark Twain

On night 5 in Port McNeil – but who’s counting - one of our dock mates holds a strategy session on his boat to determine the best time to make a getaway through Queen Charlotte Strait and across QC Sound (the Pacific Ocean).  Unfortunately, gale warnings are still being issued.  The couple invited us over, as well as another boater from our dock who presents an elaborate drawing he made on an 8 x 11 inch piece of paper showing the islands, the water, the wind, the waves and us.   Arrows are pointing every which way representing the seas and the directional wind.  It's like a mini-meteorology tutorial given by, well…, a couple of guys in a boat. 

Our self-appointed leader robustly opines, fueled by the half empty bottle of Glenlivet sitting in front of him, that 10-20 mph winds with 2 meter seas at 9 second intervals is not safe but at 10 second intervals it is very “doable.”  He would leave the next morning.  The other boater nods sagely - Jim and I leave the confab.  My opinion, fueled by common sense, is that I can get equally sick at 9 seconds or 10 seconds – very “doable.”  

Mr. Glenlivet did not leave the next morning.

42 Degrees Just Shouts -  Sunbathing



When we first arrived in Port McNeill, we were the second boat in the marina, but, as the weather front hovered, more boats dribbled in.  By Thursday, day 7 for us, and we are counting to the minute, the gale warning lifts and there is a flurry of activity on the dock at 6 AM as six of the seven boats prepare to leave.  We are all suffering cabin fever and dockitis.  Jim and I push off first at 6:15AM.



Our Last Evening in Port McNeill

We look like a flotilla leaving, one right after the other, and we travel in a line for quite some time until we take different courses.  It all started out quite calm, but, gradually, the seas started building and building until we were in the middle of rollers 12 – 15 feet.  I felt like I was in a scene from The Perfect Storm – only George Clooney was not at the helm, just a very pale Jim. 

The Flotilla
We have fallen to the rear

 It was so bad that the cats got sea sick and since Jim was already feeling queasy, even with the patch on, I was dispatched to go below and swab the decks - as it were.  Needless to say, after breakfast and the unfortunate clean-up duty, I was a little pasty myself.  But a mere 7 hours later we were in the protection of Calvert Island and smooth seas once again prevail. 

Two days later we ran into the 7^th boat that didn’t leave with us from Port McNeill.  They waited to cross Queen Charlotte sound until the following day when it was glassy calm.  I guess you just can’t do anything about the weather – except wait and be patient – which we will be next time.

Now you see him...



Now you don't
Swallowed by the Swells

Port McNeill - Just Waitin and Wishin

Port McNeill Harbor at Twilight

Port McNeill is our home for the next several days.  It has a population of only 2,700 yet it has a big modern Chamber of Commerce Visitors Center where I counted at least 4 employees.  This seaside village is geared for  summer cruisers looking for salmon fishing grounds. Later in the summer the marina installs a big party barge with a tent in the harbor - hopefully we'll be gone by then.

We spend the first few days here fixing the "fixed"  yet still non-functioning watermaker -  grrrrrrr.  Jim finally had to rewire the whole thing.  This is  the third time it's been repaired but we're really, really sure it's working now.  We won't find out for certain until we're at sea and that won't be for days since we have been sidelined by gale force winds In Queen Charlotte Sound.

Yikes

Every day for the last 4 days that we have checked the weather forecast, 4 times a day when the weather is reported, this is what it says: Gale Warnings.  So we are waiting to leave, which is not without it's advantages as Port McNeil has the best cinnamon rolls in BC.  I've taken on the task of critiquing them each morning to ensure their quality control standards  remain high.  Of course, if we don't get out of here soon, Jim will be able to use me as an anchor.

Eagle Guarding our Boat - 24/7

So we wait for the storm to pass, listening to the loons in the harbor and  just wishing and hoping and
thinking and praying,
planning and dreaming
each night.... of calm seas. 

Float Plane that Isn't

Northward Bound May 1, 2012

Our First Lighthouse Sighting

We push off at 7AM on May 1 for Nanaimo, BC, where we'll clear customs.  It is a 46 nm trip and we have calm seas and beautiful weather.  We call customs ahead of time, tell then our "approximate" arrival time -  1:15PM - and they instruct us to tie up at their dock - but - if we expect to arrive more than 15 minutes either side of 1:15PM we are required to call to inform them. They however, plan to arrive at our boat at exactly 1:15PM and if they aren't there by 1:16PM, we may leave - at 1:16PM.  This level of precision cannot possibly work - I mean we didn't even synchornize our watches. However, we actually tied up at their dock at exactly 1:15PM.   We're here, they're not - but we wait until 1:30 just to be sure but no one comes.

Meanwhile, we have a leaking water heater and our water maker isn't working.  We're on the water but can't access water,  hmmmm.   So Jim spends much of the afternoon diagnosing the watermaker problem and fixing it and we continue on the next morning to Campbell River.  Unfortunately, the fixed water maker still isn't making water and Jim spends much of the eight hour voyage in the engine room further diagnosing the problem.

Tug first in line for entering Seymour Narrows

 Two days are spent in Campbell River as Jim makes repairs.  The water heater and maker are fixed and we leave Friday morning, May 4th, for  Johnstone Strait.  This is a long crossing that takes us through the dreaded Seymour Narrows, a bottleneck  channel that must be traversed at slack water, and at that, a whole chapter of a book explains how treacherous the waters are.  Watch for the boils, avoid the tide rips, back eddies, forward eddies, swirls and ripples.   The author includes diagrams, a strategy chart broken down by whether we are in an ebb or flood tidal situation and cautionary tales worthy of a Stephen King novel. 

Charting the Straits

The fish boat exiting the Narrows and entering Johnstone strait

We  enter at the appointed time following a fishing boat (we respect "local knowledge") and watching him get thrown to and fro makes me dizzy.  Making it through without incident we continue up the straits as the water swirls and rips but our boat handles it well.  It turns out to be a long, long day and we arrive in Pt McNeil at 7:30 PM , after 10 hours of cruising.

The Departure - April 25, 2012

Finally, after months of planning, packing and provisioning, we are leaving Seattle for a five month adventure directly to Alaska and returning leisurely through the islands of British Columbia.  We are so full of supplies the boat feels like it's sinking.  There is a 5 month supply of cat litter,  kitty food - canned and dry -  dog food - dry and moist, dog biscuits, dog chews, and Zippy's coats.  By the time we finished with all the pet supplies there was hardly any room left for our stuff.  Still, I managed to cram 5 months and 3 seasons worth of clothing into the boat - I actually emptied my entire closet.  These are the times I appreciate Jim's simplicity of wardrobe - he only brought 2 small duffel bags.  I also emptied the contents of our refrigerator and cupboards.  We have hard-to-find grocery items, extra boat parts and  enough  medications to make a pharmaceutical rep envious.  Only days later do we realize Jim forgot a coat and I am sockless.

Zippy's Loo-Liner

This year we have a new boat aboard our boat -  a 6' homely, orange plastic work barge intended to serve as Zippy's water taxi for potty duty.  We needed a dinghy that didn't require a crane to launch it and could be rammed up on a rocky shore without fear of damage. 


We leave at 7AM for Roche Harbor in  San Juan Island, a favorite place of ours and our jumping off point for Canada.  Our passenger for this leg of the trip is an old friend, Brian.  He actually sold us our Selene.  In fact, he uses us as an example of how long it can take to buy a boat - 10 years.  I think other boaters might be more decisive.

We are going to a three day Selene Rendezvous - 27 boats make the gathering and about 3 of them have cruised to Alaska.  I pump these veteran cruisers for tips on traveling through the Seymour Narrows, traversing Johnstone Straits and making the reputedly dangerous  Queen Charlotte crossing.  They might as well have been frightening me with stories of dodging pirates and armed rebels off the coast of Somalia - I was gripped with fear.

Blue Heron Guarding the  Blue Boat

The event was fun and felt like a big send-off party as everyone was excited about our adventure and eager to hear our cruising stories.  On Sunday April 29th we left Roche Harbor and headed due west all of .5 nautical miles to the Seattle Yacht Club outstation on Henry Island to catch our breath and relax a few days before our official departure. We were the only boat there so we enjoyed some quiet nature watching - a red fox scouring the shore, a blue heron and nine deer grazing the grounds.

Yes,  just what you think

Homeward Bound; Monday September 26 - Wednesday September 28,2011

Monday brings sloshing rain, 50 MPH winds and   “ 'That Damn' Fuel Line Project.”   We start with great news from the boys who work on our boat in Seattle – by 8:45 AM, Jeff had a fuel line custom made and ready to ship on Kenmore’s float plane, arriving in Nanaimo by 1 PM.  The bad news is that due to the gusty hurricane winds, Kenmore canceled their flight for today.  The bad-bad news is that that was also their last flight of THE SEASON.

Plan B: Dan, our Harbor Master/Expert Tower, knows a guy on the island who knows a guy on the other island (Vancouver) who has the hose we need. Jim and Dan hop the ferry and within two hours they have a new fuel line, custom-made by Dan while  they're still at the auto supply store. A few new connectors, a bit of grease, a lot of muscle power and – voila!  Dan is like the Harrison Ford character in Six Days and Seven Nights – give him a Q-tip and a pocket knife, send him into the wilderness and he’ll build you a shopping mall.

Jim installs the new fuel line, bleeds the engine of air 3 times, and we start the engine up.  It looks like this might be our golden fix.  Of course, this is the third time we have tried to fix our problem, so…we are cautiously optimistic. Meanwhile, we monitor the weather web sites hourly looking for any break in the storms in which we can make our get away.

We head to the pub for supper but just today, they started “winter” hours, so by 7:15 PM, the kitchen is closed.  Dan, our new best friend, is there so we go in and sit with him and his wife, Jan, who runs the pub.  We have a beer with them and another local who lives aboard his boat at the harbor. Pretty soon three other locals join us for beers and we have a spirited conversation about politics, Bush, Perry and Obama. Most of these guys are from the states originally (Peaceniks - I love them ) and have a very sophisticated take on the state of the states. Pretty soon Jan disappears and at about 8 PM she hustles back with steaming plates of shrimp, chicken, fries, onion rings and cheese.  All on the house.  And more beer. A perfect end to a dismal day.




Sunrise Leaving Thetis Island

At sunrise on Tuesday, clear skies and light winds greet us so at 7 AM we skedaddle out of Thethis Island and five hours later we are in US waters, safely docked at our favorite place in the San Juan Islands, Friday Harbor.  This is our first trip - of the last three trips - that we actually manage to finish all on our own -  without a tow.



Sunrise Friday Harbor
Mt Baker

Wednesday is the day we make our break for home. A stunning sunrise and again, luck is on our side as the forecast for our 7 hour run looks promising all the way back to Seattle. As we leave the San Juan Islands, tons of seals put on a show for us, frolicking to and fro in front of our boat for miles. Of course every time I try to take a picture of their acrobatics, they dive under the boat. Camera shy I guess.



Once we get into the dreaded Straits of Juan de Fuca, the coast guard makes an announcement on the radio warning boaters that live firing exercises are being conducted by the US government - did they hear we were coming? - and later, that side-scanning sonar is also occuring. We make it safely through the firing range without any muzzles pointed at us.


Exactly seven hours later, we dock in Seattle - happy to be home but sad to be leaving our snug boat. We spent almost ten weeks cruising the BC waters without getting homesick or antsy. We are excellent vagabonds ready to live on board...someday.

Home Sweet Home ??