Dixie Cove to Mary Basin

Clouds this morning, but high clouds accompanied by very gentle breezes. Karen brought up a ton of what she called “gelatinous mud” from the bottom, along with the rode and anchor. It was smelly but made for good holding.

Lots of protein for a busy day

It was about 9am, and we set our course for Clear Passage, an easy-to-see and navigate path inside the islands and islets that guard this area of the West Coast of Vancouver Island. Because of the shallow water, this channel is not advised on rough days. Because today’s conditions could be best described as something between flat and rippled seas, it was a perfect way to make our way south along the coast.

More than just the anchor comes up

The view out of Dixie Cove

Welcome to Rugged Point from one of the neighbors

Our interim stop is Rugged Point Provincial Park. You anchor on the inside in 20 to 30 feet, and dinghy ashore onto a flat sloping grey “volcanic sand” beach. There is a 350 yard, well maintained, flat path over to the west beach which is a massive and equally flat beach of grey sand. As we approached Rugged Point from Dixie Cove, we saw quite a few blows. The humpbacks wheree feeding in the lee of Rugged Point. We stopped to observe and take a few pictures, as these animals were showing us a couple of flukes.

The small sailboat Bolero with a young couple that we have been seeing over the past few days was just coming out from the landing beach; we waved and then anchored.

The holding seemed good in the 25’ depth at Rugged Point, and we landed the dinghy on the wide beach with just the right slope to the sand for easy disembarking. The walk over to the west beach was as advertised, including parts that were boardwalk, and it was great fun to explore the ocean-facing beach at low tide.  The sun was shining, and we took lots of pictures while Karen beachcombed. She found several very large and intact sand dollars, which ranged in color from whitish to lovely sepia brown.

Lots of driftwood at the start of the trail to Rugged Point

Don't know if it is art, but it got me to take a picture of it

Rugged Point Marine Park beach

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Sand sculpture in the low tide

Karen checking out the treasures on the beach

More fascinating sand sculptures my Mother Nature

Life hangs on in every nook and cranny

Bob stalking another photo

We timed our arrival at Rugged Point for low tide – a good idea for two reasons. First, we could enjoy maximum “beach”, and second, it made retrieving the dinghy after our hour ashore easy as the tide was rising.

Our ride home awaits

Rugged Point is spectacular, a must stop on the West Coast of Vancouver Island

Soon, we were back aboard and setting off for Mary Basin, about 20 miles to the south. As we made our way along Clear Channel, we spotted the usual suspects: Cormorants, Sea Otters and lots of little seabirds. As I was scanning the horizon, I noticed what I thought was a fin, but a tall black fin, not the fin of a humpback whale. This fin was perhaps three miles away, and the best I could come up with was that there was an Orca ahead. Unlikely, but nothing else looks like this. Karen was skeptical, especially as the fin stayed visible for fairly long periods of time without going underwater.

As we got closer, I was able to identify without a doubt what we were looking at:  it was a surfer! Apparently, according to Karen, Tatchu Point is known for some gnarly waves, and perhaps it’s a place surfers come to on the West Coast? To add to the mystery, we noticed that the small sailboat Bolero that left Rugged Point before us, had stopped and anchored close to the nearest shoreline. Did they stop to look at the surfer? We could see no one aboard, and after a few minutes of thinking it through, the only conclusion that made sense is that the sailboat had stopped so the captain could go surfing. I hope our paths cross again so I can confirm that the surfer was from Bolero! We have seen many firsts on this trip, and certainly a surfer (especially one out in the middle of nowhere) qualifies as a first.

Mother Nature's navigation marks

West Coast keeps giving us beautiful vistas  

We found a patch of fog as we turned up Nuchatlitz Inlet. The visibility seldom dropped below two miles and within ten minutes we were in the clear again.

Mary Basin is a very large anchorage with good protection found in the lee of Little Lord Island. Karen wanted to arrive at high tide so we could dinghy up Laurie Creek. We timed it just right, and were rewarded by seeing a small waterfall at the end of the creek.

Laurie Creek waterfall

Bob takes his turning at posing in front of the waterfall

There is a very large Inner Basin behind Narrows Rock that all the guidebooks indicate is too treacherous to go into. Well, Karen had spotted a fishing vessel named the Snow Queen on AIS that was in the Inner Basin! That was enough to pique our interest, so off we went to investigate in the dinghy. The width and depth of the inner basin entrance measure fine, with us showing 50 feet of depth in an areas marked 12 feet at the most narrow part. The tide was just starting to run out, but the dinghy made it in just fine. On the way out a few minutes later, we clocked the current at 2.5 knots. I think getting in and out of here at high water slack would be no problem. But looking at the chart, finding shallow enough water along the three mile inner basin would be the greatest challenge. Maybe next time we’ll give it a try.

So back to the boat, a celebratory beer, dinner and an episode of LOST. What could be better?

The textures of the sky water and land always capture my eye

Scow Bay to Dixie Cove via Walters Cove

The Canadian Provincial park of Dixie Cove is our destination today, with a stop in Walters Cove to check out the town, the store and see if there is any water to be had.

Karen had a reasonably good night’s sleep, so I think she only bruised her ribs, nothing more.

The seas were absolutely flat. We navigated the inside passage near the shore line. It’s a bit of a windy route through islands and rocks but on such a flat day, it was no problem. If there were big seas, we would have run outside all the barrier islands and rocks that sit along this part of the coastline.

A calm and flat passage

The route into Walters Cove is serpentine, but well-marked. However, there are so many marks it can be confusing when you can see two or three red marks along with two or three green marks at the same time. The modern plotters with the boat’s position clearly defined by the GPS makes this kind of navigation much easier than the days of paper charts and relative magnetic bearings. Except for the entrance to Klashkish Basin just above the Brooks Peninsula, we have found our electronic charts to be spot on.

We arrived about noon according to our plan. The store opens at 1pm and we wanted an hour to walk around and explore on foot. We found out last year that if we went too long without getting off the boat to walk, it would affect our mood, making us feel a bit “boat bound”.

There is a part-boardwalk, part woodsy path that fringes the Walters Cove settlement. There was lots of activity for a Sunday, with various fishing camps and a few kayakers and people building a dock. No water for the boat, however.

Alaskan Dream on the docks at Walters Cove

Right at one, Susie opened the store. We did not expect much since the supply boat came in three days ago. However, we were able to get a couple of items we needed, including some much-needed taco shells.  As Karen talked to Susie, she mentioned her fall and asked if the Outpost Hospital had specific hours. Susie said that a nurse was on 24 hour call, and she called the nurse on duty at the Medical Outpost for us. We had seen the Outpost as we entered the channel to Walters Cove, but being a Sunday, we figured no one would be there.

Sara, the nurse on duty, said to come on over and she would take a look at Karen’s ribs. She concurred that they only looked bruised and that Karen’s breathing was totally equal on both sides, and that our treatment of ice packs and anti-inflammatories should continue.

It was $545 of peace of mind expenditure, as there is really no medical facility enroute until Tofino, which was not on our itinerary to begin with. We both felt better knowing that things were OK.

Walters Cove Medical station to the rescue

Leaving Walters Cove for Dixie Cove took us out a different way than we came in. To call it torturous is about right – several 90 degree plus turns in very limited room to avoid rocks. We found it fun that key “entry channels” were marked with hanging lines of floats to help even the locals find their way home! While we were working our way out, a float plane descended and came in right over our heads.

As we made our way past Hohoae point, we spotted some whale blows on either side of the channel. It was a lovely day, and we slowed to idle and were able to get a few fluke pictures for our efforts.

Lots of whale tails but no exciting action

Dixie Cove consists of two bays, the inner and the outer. Both are larger than they appear on the charts and we anchored in the inner bay with room for at least three more boats. The outer bay could accommodate many more. It is well protected and feels very tucked away from wind and weather. Karen had fun watching a sea otter play with a large piece of kelp – it kept mushing the kelp on its face and then hugging the long stem. There were also fish jumping and some baitfish we saw swimming off the back of the boat.

Welcome to Dixie Cove

After a dinner of grilled pork tacos with apple slaw and some baked chocolate chip cookies, we watched a couple episodes of LOST and called it a night in our quiet cove where we were all alone.

Scow Bay, Lay Day

Today we had set aside to explore this area. The clouds had departed in the darkness of morning but by sunrise they were back, although at around 1000 feet, so no fog.

We took our time getting moving and I made pancakes and bacon for a late breakfast. Around 11:30 we launched the dinghy. Our first stop was at the sailboat that came in last night. Diva was out of Whidbey Island and manned by Jeff and Marin. They said they had a rough ride yesterday around Cape Cook as the Southeasterlies came up causing confused and rough seas. They were about to raise their anchor and continue south to get water and fuel.

We pointed the dinghy toward the inner basin at the head of the bay. It was drying earlier, but with high tide approaching and the water plus 7 to 9 feet, we managed to go all the way to the end and circumnavigate both the small and large island. The path around the large island shows only green on our charts, but we saw no lower than three feet. It was a good exploration…and we enjoyed the company of a few otters.

As we exited the back cove, Karen spotted the sea otter she had been playing hide and seek with since yesterday, fondly called “The Log” as he would just zone out and drift around the anchorage. We approached very slowly in the dinghy and he seemed content to just watch us. A few feet at a time we moved closer, watching his body language to make certain we did not scare him.

What a ham! 

He was very gracious and allowed us to approach as close as 10 feet. He never deviated from his grooming chores. After about 10 minutes, lots of pictures, and a video, we motored on our way, the otter never moving from his spot or stopping his grooming. That was a very special otter, he must have sensed we meant him no harm and only wanted a close encounter.

West Nook and South Nook, also off Gay Passage, were the next two destinations for our explorations. These anchorages held little appeal because they seemed very open and the shore lines were littered with driftwood. With Scow Bay just around the corner, I would always anchor here.

About 15 minutes after had settled back aboard we saw lightning and heard thunder. In the nine years we have been cruising the Pacific Northwest, this was a first. It produced some rain and then was gone as quickly has it had come.

My plan for the afternoon was to bake bread. I always start with about three store bought loaves on our trips, but they take up room in the freezer and are never as good as fresh baked.

Just as I was beginning to prepare dinner, I heard a loud thunk and a scream. Karen had slipped down the forward stairs as she was putting away my baking supplies. She had both hands full of supplies, and was only wearing only socks, a no-no in a boat. The teak, even the stairs which have anti-slip treads, can be very slippery.

I went down to check on her and she was sitting on the floor trying to catch her breath. I checked her over and she had taken the brunt of the fall on her back ribs and right arm. Her hip was going to be bruised, but the ribs were our biggest concern.

We put ice on the areas that hurt the most, and put her on the settee to recover. In addition to some wine,  a healthy dose of Aleve came her way in hopes of keeping the swelling and pain down. As she lay tending to her wounds, I made dinner and we finished the evening with another episode of LOST, season 3.

Three more Advil and I tucked Karen into bed in hopes that she would be comfortable enough to sleep.

I think she’ll be OK, but I’ll continue to monitor the pain to see if it gets better or worse.

Columbia Cove to Scow Bay

Today’s journey is a short one, only 8nm over to the Bunsby Islands and Scow Bay. The Bunsby Islands are a destination for kayakers so we are excited to do some exploring by paddle.

The morning was again sunny and cloudless. We slept in until around 7:30 and were able to see the low tide. Large mud flats and rocks were now clearly visible when before they were only indications on the charts and depths on the sounder.

Since the trip was short today, we took our time getting ready. It was not until 10:30 that we got underway. The winds were out of the southeast as predicted, blowing about 15 knots. In order to avoid the low swells we set our course for behind the Barrier Islands. The reefs, islands and islets along with their associated kelp, did a fine job of calming the seas.

Karen vanquishes the kelp we harvested on our anchor

As we approached Gay Passage to enter Scow Bay, we passed three kayakers. They appear very small in this large, vast watery vista.

Scow Bay is open looking, but provides good protection. Because the head is small, we found it difficult to find a spot to anchor where we could let out enough scope and still have enough swing room. It’s a better place for a stern tie with water depth approaching 40 feet. Many of the outcroppings have good depths even as you get very close.

We were not in the mood for a stern tie, and we were all alone in the bay, so we moved out a little and set in 55 feet at high tide. This gave us nice breezes and great views in all quadrants.

The afternoon showed we had little ambition. Karen read her Nook, and then took a nap; and I worked on the blog and photos. Around 3pm when I looked up from my computer, I saw some fog had moved into the Gay Passage entrance and was trying to make its way to our anchorage – from the water in front of us, and wafting over the tops of the trees behind us. For the next three hours the sun, with its warm temperatures, and the cold air from the ocean fought to gain control.

It was very strange to be enjoying a bright cloudless day, so bright your eyes hurt, and then see fog roll in trying to block the clear skies above. We knew what was coming; as soon as the temperatures dropped, the fog would set in solid.

The fog and sun battle for dominance 

Around six as I was beginning to think about fixing dinner, I gazed at the entrance and saw a small sailboat entering the cove. A beautiful sloop of about 33ish feet with two guys aboard waved as they motored past us and dropped anchor 100 yards further up towards the head of the bay. After they dropped anchor, the fog got serious.

Trying to beat the fog to the anchorage

Dinner was rockfish and curried, glazed sweet potatoes. Karen promised to bake chocolate chip cookies to bring some joy to our foggy night. After all, this is why August is called Fogust along the West Coast of Vancouver Island.  A quiet night.

Klashkish Basin to Columbia Cove

No fog, no clouds this morning. A perfectly clear, cloudless sky greeted us as we prepared to more Alaskan Dream to Columbia Cove, several hours down the coast. We hauled anchor and left the crew of Nisku to enjoy the basin to alone.

The rounding of Brooks Peninsula can be fraught with disturbed seas. It is an area that deserves respect. Karen had read story after story of boats having to turn back due to weather. As we headed out along the North Side of Brooks, we took a lot of swells on the nose and slammed into the waves a bit. The good news was that the winds were only around ten knots. Depending on our course, the seas did give us some rolls as well because we took them more abeam than we have the past couple of days. But once around Solander Island, on a more easterly heading, things calmed down and continued to settle all the way to Columbia Cove.

The coastline scenery is ever changing

West coast of Vancouver Island geological layers

Columbia Cove is a three or four boat nook behind an island. It looks like it would be just an OK anchorage, but everyone writes it up as good in all winds. We tucked behind Protection Island, noting the fact that the cove was shallow, and we dropped anchor in 20 feet of water at close to high tide.

The entrance to Columbia Cove

I did do an anchor circle and saw depths as shallow as four feet under the keel. It’s always good to confirm where the thin water is and plan your anchoring accordingly.

Later in the day, I also put the bridle on and dropped another fifty feet of chain over the side. This helps ensure we do not move from our spot. With a low tide of plus 1.4 feet tomorrow morning, we’ll be seeing a lot more mud and rock. It’s good to know your boat will be safely away from those things.

Today Columbia Cove is picture perfect

As we were settling in, I spotted a black bear on the far shore. His was lumbering along the beach with an occasional side trip to grab some berries. We watched him for a good while, enjoying the sun shining on his black fur.

We explored the area in the dinghy, going around the entrance to check out the large beach (Shelter Shed #4) that faces the ocean. The breakers were too much to land the dinghy, but it was fun checking it out. We simply enjoyed the bright sunshine and being on the water.  The guidebooks say there is a “primitive” and “difficult” trail from our anchorage to this beach, but neither Karen nor I was in the mood to slug our way along an unmarked path.

I love the layering of light and life on every rock

The afternoon was without a breeze and the temperature rose into the 80’s. After trying everything we could to keep the saloon cool and comfortable, on came the generator followed by the air conditioning. Two of the units were not working, so all we could do was hold our own as the heat outside rose.  We watched some sea otters frolic in the cove, and kept an eye out for our friendly bear to no avail. It was a lazy, peaceful day. No other boats joined us.

Come evening and sunset, the temperature started to drop so we powered down the AC and settled in to enjoy my homemade pizza, Karen’s favorite food.

Another installment of season three of LOST rounded out our evening.

All in all, it was a very pleasant day of bright sun, with not a cloud to be seen from sunrise to sunset. Not your typical day in the Pacific Northwest.

Flank steak, caramelized onion with balsamic fig glaze pizza