Grace Harbour to Nanaimo

Grace Harbor to Nanaimo: 76.9NM 

Another day in paradise.  Listened to the marine forecast and it was an all systems go for our trip back toward Pender Harbor in preparation for our crossing the Strait of Georgia. The previous two days of gale force winds had blown out, and our transit was in very very calm water. The way I like it best.  

We saw tons of seals along the way, eyeing us disdainfully. They’re pretty cute. A few were frolicking and kicking up waves. Mostly the passage was long, but we decided to keep going and get across the strait to Nanaimo and spend the night. That way, weather became pretty much a non-issue for the rest of our trip.  

While I was making grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, Bob saw this huge blue-hulled ship with a helicopter on the stern being circled by a float plane at low altitude. Apparently, someone was deployed in the boat’s dinghy, taking photos of the ship and the plane…wow!  

We came into Nanaimo and were assigned a great slip near the wharfinger’s office (called a harbor master in the U.S.) and the laundry. Did some laundry and walked the docks, looking at boats. Tried to convince Bob to make salmon, but instead ended up at the Wesley Street bistro, which was another great culinary adventure. We explored Nanaimo’s Old City while walking to the restaurant, and have decided to do some more exploring tomorrow before departing to the south.

Melanie Cove to Grace Harbor

Melanie Cove to Grace Harbor: 12NM

It was still a bit windy in the morning, so we decided to forego the kayaking and try the dinghy instead. I wanted to check out nearby Laura Cove for future visits, as it is highly recommended. So Bob took the dinghy and got it up on a plane, so that it wasn’t bouncing too badly.

Navigator Karen, checking another spot "around the bend".

We zipped around in Prideaux Haven and then over to Laura Cove. Laura Cove is nice, but I think Melanie Cove is nicer, so we filed that information away and headed back to the boat.

Today was going to be leisurely, with a visit to private Mink Island to see if the small anchorage there was appealing before heading over to Grace Harbor to anchor for the night. It was mostly calm by now, so the motoring was uneventful and smooth. Mink Island is a cute little island that has private docks and moorings. Lots of signs announcing that not only are fires prohibited, but so are dogs and other non-residents. Not a bad place to stop for lunch, but probably not an overnight we’d be interested in.

As we headed for Grace Harbor, Bob mentioned that he couldn’t believe it was supposed to be another gale force warning day on the Strait of Georgia, as it was so calm where we were. Well, as we approached the turnoff for Malaspina Inlet, the white caps started to appear and the wind began to blow. We were happy to make the turn into the inlet, where it was lumpy but not annoyingly so.

Grace Harbor is a well protected harbor that had lots of boats in it, though it wasn’t crowded. We had lunch and decided to kayak over to the landing at the marine park. We took a nice hike to a freshwater lake, running into folks headed that way with towels and soap. If you don’t have a way to store enough water on your boat for freshwater showers, it’s not a bad way to stay clean. The lake was really peaceful and had a nice large ledge about a foot under water, a great place to sit and lather up (with biodegradable environmentally ok soap, of course)!

We had to get back to the boat for our next adventure, which was to dinghy 4 miles down Malaspina Strait to the Laughing Oyster restaurant for dinner. I had heard of this restaurant for several years, and decided it was time to visit. We had heard that they had some space for visiting boats, but we thought we’d like Grace Harbour better, so decided to make the trek in the dinghy instead. We scheduled an early dinner so that we could dinghy home in the waning daylight. Bob had his portable GPS and had plotted in our course, so that going and coming back would be relatively carefree.

The ride started out smooth, but quickly became very bumpy and lumpy. In the bow and up on the plane, I was getting hammered. Bob decided to slow down, and that’s when we managed to get the dinghy rope entangled in the prop. Luckily, it was just a tiny bit, he was able to work it free, and we continued on our way. Still, bouncing about in the inlet with wave and wind action and no handheld VHF radio, you quickly realize that if this had been a serious problem, boats passing by were few and far between. Note to self: get that portable VHF radio for the next trip.

When we got to the docks at Okeover Landing, where the restaurant was located, the floating docks were surging up and down in the waves and wind. The docks were completely full of small runabouts and fishing craft, and we had to work hard to find a place for our dinghy. All the boats were rubbing together as they surged up and down, and we were extremely glad that we hadn’t brought Best of Times over to this landing.

The "docks" at the Laughing Oyster. Now I know why the mollusk is so jovial.

So we get ashore….and there is absolutely no signage for this restaurant. We decide to walk up the hill and see a place that might be the restaurant…and it was! From the outside, you don’t expect much, but inside, you can tell it’s going to be good. The food was absolutely fantastic, as were the views from the restaurant deck. We had a great meal, then prepared to dinghy home. I held that darned dinghy line in my hand the whole way home to avoid an encore. It was less bumpy going home as the wind and waves had died down some.

The million-dollar views from the Laughing Oyster. That last mountain peak is about 90 miles away.

As we entered the harbor, we detoured around a large and lovely Royal Passagemaker anchored alone in a secluded spot before we headed for the boat. We were just in time to get some lovely pictures of the pink sky at sunset. Another great day in paradise.

Sunset in Grace Harbor. "Red sky at night, sailor's delight."

Roscoe Bay to Melanie Cove

Roscoe Bay to Refuge Cove: 4.3NM

Refuge Cove to Melanie Cove: 8.6NM

Awoke to another great day in Roscoe Bay. Got out the kayak and tooled around, checking out the drying shoal and the head of the bay and all the boats along the way.

Best of Times in Roscoe Bay.  

Best of Times as viewed from the Kayak.

During our travels we noticed a unique from of art. Small rocks piled up on other rocks at or near the shore. We thought they might be there to indicate unmarked hazards.

Roscoe has more than its share of "rock art"  

Perhaps they simply marked that a person has passed this way. Most are simple structures, comprised of a few rocks balanced to stand the test of time, but without meaning we could decipher.

However, one composition did catch our eye.

A creative hand, or an enlarged self-image?

 We decided to head out to Refuge Cove to reprovision a bit before heading over to Melanie Cove in Prideaux Haven for the night.

Refuge Cove was hopping. As we left Roscoe Bay, it was rather windy and there were some waves and white caps. When we got to the docks, there wasn’t a lot of room, but Bob decided to wedge the boat into a spot that meant that the prevailing wind was going to try and blow us off the dock, not onto it. Not only did he do a great job of docking, but also, as I tossed the stern line to the nice fellow on the dock, it turned out to be the guy from Coyote Blue, recipient of our salmon the day before!

 He told us that it was supposed to really blow hard that night and that gale force winds were forecast for both Johnstone Strait and the Strait of Georgia. Hmm. We went to provision, found great stuff, and while our friends on Coyote Blue decided to stay at the dock for the evening, we headed over to Melanie Cove as originally planned.

The store at Refuge Cove.

 Bob said that MC would be sheltered from the winds. To my eye, it looked as if, while sheltered, the winds would still whip down the cove. Wonder who was right?

There were lots of boats in Prideaux Haven and Melanie Cove, the two quintessential anchorages in Desolation Sound. Still, there was more than enough room for us and we set the anchor well in case the wind picked up.

 I wanted to go kayaking, but Bob wanted to chill out first. By the time we climbed into the kayak, it was blowing pretty good. Our “upwind” paddle was painfully hard, and it started to rock and roll a bit as we left Melanie Cove for Prideaux Haven. We cut our kayak short and headed back for the boat. Well, going downwind was really fun. We were smoking along, doing warp speed without moving our paddles at all. In fact, we held the paddles out as if they were mini-sails and grinned all the way back to the boat.

Oh yes…it blew hard that night! And rained sometime overnight as well!

Dent Island to Roscoe Bay

Dent Island Lodge to Walsh Cove: 21.1NM 

Walsh Cove to Roscoe Bay: 8.3NM 

We awoke to a lovely day, which meant that Ann and Doug were going to have a fog-free morning to fish. We took it easy and prepared the boat for our departure, which was to be around 1pm when the next 2 sets of rapids were near slack. We hung out at the lodge, paid the bill, played with the kitties (Miss Kitty and Twitch), and finagled two amazing home made chocolate chip cookies from the caretaker. 

 

Dent Island dining room. 

 

Dent Island Bar. 

 

Dent Island Library. 

I had a little more luck shopping the fresh salmon around today, but still have a refrigerator and freezer full. 

 

Miss Kitty gets some laptime before we depart Dent Lodge. 

As we were eating lunch aboard, Ann and Doug returned, having caught their limit of 4 Chinook and a variety of Coho that they had to release. Good for them! 

As slack approached, we noticed a line up of boats wanting to come into Dent Island’s docks, so we took off to make room. We were sad to leave, but looking forward to more adventures elsewhere. We didn’t get too far before we had a scary moment when Bob said we had lost the steering on the boat (right in the middle of the first thankfully slack rapid). I won’t tell the tale, but we figured it out quickly and continued on our way. 

 

The local Chevy. The preferred mode of transport of the locals. Covered and warm, fast and rugged, made from welded aluminium. 

It was sunny and bright and calm, and we had a peaceful passage down to Walsh Cove Marine Park. I had planned on overnighting here, but after we checked it out, we felt that it was more of a lunch stop than a good place to anchor and kayak. So we continued on to Roscoe Bay, a lovely place that we had visited last year. Roscoe is known for the drying shoal in the entrance. You can only enter or leave when the tide is rising, otherwise you’re a bit landlocked. 

 

Narrow entrance into Roscoe Bay over the drying bar. 

We arrived at the entrance at 4pm and quickly figured out that we were a bit early. After chatting up a few small boats that were going by and asking them to read their least depth when crossing the shoal, we figured out that by 5pm we could enter safely. I stood out on the bowsprit, looking intently for rocks. I clearly saw the bottom, but nothing too close, and our least depth was only 8.7 feet. 

We found a great place to stern tie and settled in for the evening. It was fun to watch others come into the bay and go through the stern tying and anchoring drill.  

 

Best of Times secure in Roscoe Bay. 

We have these nifty transmitters that we wear with headsets that look like something a receptionist might wear, so that we can communicate while out of line of sight of each other while anchoring or docking. Most folks don’t have them, so they yell at each other and it’s really amusing. 

That night, we had to have salmon. I reminded Bob that Salmon and pasta work together, and he made this amazingly killer salmon gorgonzola over penne pasta that was so fabulous it brought tears to my eyes. Who needs to eat ashore with this type of food? 

 

Sunset in Roscoe Bay.

Dent Island Lodge

Fishing and Relaxing at Dent Island Lodge

Well, Bob wanted to go salmon fishing, and Dent Island Lodge is the place to do it. So we had Henry (the manager) arrange for us to go out with Scott Anderson from 7-11am and find those fishies.

We awoke to thick, dense fog. It was really hard to see in front of your face, but we did find Scott and his 17’ fishing boat. We took off through those canoe rapids (it was high tide and not roaring too much) and didn’t get too far in the fog before we were navigating by GPS, trust, and prayer.

Foggy start.

After a couple of hours, the fog starts to lift and we can see the other boats fishing near us.

About 10:30 and the fog rolls back. A beautiful day with lots of fellow salmon hunters.

Salmon fishing is done in these boats by trolling. You set the line down about 130 feet and wait for something to nibble. Then you grab the fishing pole, hike it up high while you’re reeling like mad to ‘set the hook’ and then you keep reeling and reeling till you find out if you got a fish or a shoe or what.

Karen fights another Coho.

We had two poles going at all times. The one nearest Bob used large anchovies for bait and the one nearest me used a “hootchie”. Funny word for a green squidy looking thing. Anyway, Scott was a terrific guide and we had lots of action in no time at all. There are 5 kinds of Pacific Salmon: Chinook (a.k.a. King or Spring Salmon); Sockeye; Pink; Coho and Chum. We were on the hunt for Chinook, as you could keep those if they were large enough.

Karen with a "Pink". We'll get to eat this one.

The Coho, if wild (you could tell by one of their fins) had to be released, but if you caught a hatchery Coho (had that one fin cut off when small so it would be easy to tell), you could keep them. Sockeye weren’t really running, and most folk talk about pinks with a distinct lack of respect. Chum would be ok, but I didn’t have a lot of heart for catching a fish that shares a name with fish guts.

Releasing one of the many wild Cohos.

So…Bob’s new name is Chinook Bob. He hooked two nice Chinooks, one 12 pounds and one nearly 18.

This one did not get away.

Now the goal is to hook a Tyee, which is a Chinook that weighs 30 pounds or more, but we left that one there just in case someone else needed it (ha ha). Between us, we also caught one pink and 8 wild Coho(that had to be released). It was a blast reeling those fish in. The Coho put on a show and flop and jump as they near the boat. Despite the fact that they must realize we have to let them go, they have fear in their eyes as you reel them near enough to the boat to cut the hook and set them free.

 

Bob and fishing guide "Scotty" pose with a 12lb Chinook.

I was sad when it was time to come back in, I wanted more fish. But, after the 2 Chinook were filleted and vacuum packed, we had 12 huge servings of fresh salmon and who could want more? We gave the pink to Scott, by the way.

A great morning of fishing.

By the time the salmon was back in our fridge and freezer, we realized that we were knee deep in salmon and that 2 people weren’t going to be able to do them justice. Our first attempt at sharing was with two nice folks aboard the sailing vessel Coyote Blue. We had met them the day before and had been their accomplices at dinner as they fed the cats tasty tidbits from dinner. They received the salmon with joy, but gave us a bottle of wine in return. Hmmm…this trading stuff works well.

My second attempt at trading or even giving away fresh yummy salmon taught me a lesson in British Columbian reality. I was walking the docks and admiring a boat that was a 65’ Pacific Mariner. Bob and I had seen a similar boat last year at Princess Louisa, and thought they were really nice. So I walked down the dock to where the owner was washing his boat and asked if it was indeed a Pacific Mariner. In return, I was invited aboard for a grand snoop. This boat was pristine. Remember, you’re traveling in salt water (think water spots) and the fresh water you can access is too precious to clean a boat. Anyway, this boat had white carpet throughout. It was spotless. Immaculate. And the owner told me they had 4 dogs aboard! Yikes. My house is nowhere near this clean. I was impressed…and impressed by the boat and layout as well. It was lovely. I even got a tour of the standing room engine room. I think I surprised the owner by asking him if he had an engine room where he could actually stand up. As a thank you for the tour, I asked him (proudly) if he’d like some fresh salmon. He smiled weakly and then explained that he had a freezer full left to eat from his summer in Alaska. I started to realize that offering many folks fresh salmon is like offering sand to someone who lives on the beach. Still, it was worth it, because when I returned to Best of Times, Bob was jealous that I got the tour.

And then…our friends Ann and Doug showed up in Mokoro, the same folks we met at Blind Channel a few nights before.

Mokoro at Dent Island dock.

We had dinner together…but first….when last we left the kayak, it was in the back bay, having been portaged over there from our boat by the chef and the dock guy. Well, it was time to think about getting it back to the mother ship. The problem is, no one was going to portage it back for us. So we had to wait for slack water in those darned canoe rapids and then bring it back ourselves. I had lobbied to do that early the next morning, but Bob wanted to get it home and not worry about it. So, with less than one hour till dinner, we ran over, got the kayak, went through the nearly slack rapids with no problem, got an ovation from those watching on the deck, and made it to dinner with Ann and Doug on time. We had another great meal, made even better by the company. They are special folk, no doubt about it. Tried to convince them to come over for some more wine, but they had a date with the salmon in the early morning and decided turning in early was the better part of valor.