Vancouver to Desolation Sound - Part 1

Exultation is the going

Of an inland soul to sea - 

Past the houses, past the headlands,

Into deep Eternity!

Bred as we, among the mountains,

Can the sailor understand

The divine intoxication

Of the first league out from land?

Emily Dickinson

We had planned to take GeMara further afield than ever before at the end of the summer.  The decision seemed to be coming down to either Desolation Sound or Princess Louisa Inlet.  The latter is guaranteed to be a lot of motoring given it's location at the far end of windy Jervis Inlet so we opted instead of the somewhat simpler route directly north up the strait.  David has a friend who owns property and a few cabins on Read Island so this became our ultimate destination.  Along the way we had some other friends to visit on Nelson Island so our itinerary took shape around these stops.  Ultimately it was as follows:

Day 1:  Secret Cove
Day 2:  Nelson Island
Day 3:  Lund
Day 4:  Read Island, Desolation Sound

We decided to leave the route home up in the air based on the wind and other factors.  This would make for interesting conversations later in the trip.

Preparations
Whenever I think of taking big trips I always envision extensive and thoughtful planning.  In David's case this was true for the most part.  Mine, not so much.  The week leading up to the trip was the only week I was to be in the office for the month of August so I was caught up on work and assured myself that David was covering off all important details.  On departure day we still hadn't fully provisioned so we met at the local Safeway to finish buying food for the week.  $250 later we trundled out of the store with a kings bounty of provisions including T-bone steak, rack of lamb, ample bacon and eggs and enough chips and cheesies to satisfy any sea-bourne craving.  Like fire, thirst is the enemy of the mariner so we were extra careful on this front as well, to the point that we needed an extra cooler strapped to the deck to accommodate the beer, water, cranberry juice and ginger beer needed for the trip.  The refrigerator in the cabin was reserved for perishables.  Dry goods were stowed in GeMara's ample space along the sides of the cabin and the rum and single malt were carefully stowed in the locker reserved exclusively for this purpose.

We had a new idea this trip for storage of delicate fruits and vegetables that are subject to bruising.  I had seen in pictures and videos that people making long ocean passages use miniature "fruit hammocks" to store produce.  When hung properly these swing harmlessly back and forth with the waves without making contact with anything and freeing up valuable stowage space for other items.

The new hammocks were great for the fruit.  Can you guess
which one is hung correctly?  Didn't take us long to figure it out.

Day 1
The weather forecast for our trip was consistent.  The hot, dry weather that had dominated July and early August had finally run out and we knew we were in for some cloud and rain, particularly towards the back half of the trip.  The wind for the entire time blew out of the southeast, directly up the strait.  And so it was that on day 1 we would have 20 knot winds at our back to push us on our way.

It was great fun but a little tiring as we were on a deep broad reach with quartering waves constantly trying to twist the boat off our intended course.  The wind continued to build as well as the waves which we later heard were between 6 and 8 ft at times.  This was made all the more exhilarating by the fact that we opted not to reef or change the headsail from our current 150% genoa.  We reasoned that unless it's a gale, downwind shouldn't require reefing.  Technically this was true but with the large following seas we found that when the waves occasionally knocked us far enough broadside, our sails would feel the full fury of the wind and we would eventually broach.  We soon realized that our thrilling downwind ride in big winds could quickly get ugly if we needed to use a different point of sail.  

It was about this time that the dock master at Secret Cove marina called David's cell to warn us of big weather and suggest we consider delaying our departure.  Not only was he concerned for our welfare, we found out later he was short on dock space given that his existing tenants were reluctant to leave when they were supposed to because of the weather.  We thanked the man for his concern but assured him we would be arriving soon, in fact well ahead of schedule.  We were blasting North along the coast at 7 - 8 knots, almost double our normal speed.  (Later we would calculate an average speed for the day of 6.5 knots).

Realizing we were probably being a little reckless we decided to put the nose into the wind and I crawled up onto the deck to reef the main.  On this subject I will simply say that I will not try again to reef the main at sea in 6ft waves any time soon.  When I finally collapsed back in the cockpit my right hand was completely cramped from the exertion of trying to tie the reefing lines with the wind trying to blow the excess sail to windward.

Thankfully by the time we arrived at Merry Island and Welcome Passage the sea had abated and we were scooting along at close to 10 knots at times, thanks to the continued tailwind and a 3 knot current. Not long after we arrived at our destination and tied up safely at Secret Cove Marina, our scare with the wind and waves already fading into memory, waiting to be reconstituted at a later time for the benefit of our friends with a suitable amount of embellishment.

One other note on day 1:   A few guys sat in a weather-worn sailboat in front of us at the dock during our stay.  After we arrived, one of them sauntered over and offered up some unsolicited advice, saying that we should NEVER connect to shore power until we have finished securing the dock lines.  We thanked him for his wisdom but afterward David and I agreed that we had in fact secured the boat first and only made a minor tweak to one of the lines a few moments after the power was connected.  I realized then that while learning is important, it's also important to know the difference between good advice and meddling by know-it-alls.


Day 2
This would be a shorter day in terms of progress towards our ultimate destination but full in the sense of activity.  We were headed north to Nelson Island to visit two sets of people.  First we would enter Quary Bay to meet with our friends Peter and Jan at mid-day and then we would head to the far side of the Island to Vangard Bay to meet with David's friend Ed, his wife Diane and some other guests.

The Southeast wind continued this day but minus the big seas.  Thus we had a quick and enjoyable sail up to Nelson Island with nothing of note to report.  We first headed slightly away from the island in order to turn exactly downwind and head wing-on-wing directly into Quarry Bay.  As we entered the bay we saw Peter scooting out in his dinghy to meet us half way in.  It's always a great pleasure to meet work friends for the first time in their personal element and Peter was grinning ear to ear in his little boat, happy for the chance to introduce us to what must be his favourite place in the world.  He guided us into a mooring buoy positioned right offshore from his cottage.  We tied up and hopped into his dinghy for the short ride to the dock where Jan was waiting for us.

GeMara at anchor in Quarry Bay

We spent a pleasant couple of hours with Peter and Jan, sipping a cold beer and getting the grand tour of their cottage and the surrounding properties belonging to friends and family.  While David and I don't own cottages, we recognized their pride in their summer getaway as a version of our our own pride in GeMara and together we toasted the happier moments in life.  We learned about the many ways that people exist "off the grid," using tried-and-true practices augmented by modern technology in the form of solar panels, battery banks, propane and a good generator.

Peter and Jan outside their cottage

Soon we left them to their holiday and after a short lunch continued on to Vangard Bay.  Here we were met by Ed and his friend Brian on the dock and once secured we walked up to Brian's place for another tour.  The cottages here were also right on the water but rather than the ocean they were perched above a placid body of water known as West Lake.  We admired the abundance of beauty they had here that they could enjoy the benefits of a trout filled fresh water lake only minutes from Vangard Bay and the ocean.

Later that evening David and I sat on the boat with a scotch and pondered a clear black sky packed with a million stars that we never see in the city.  This led to the sort of quiet contemplative conversation that only late night stargazing can invoke.  Before retiring we both stepped onto the dock for a quick pee over the side.  To our delight the water exploded in light as the plankton in the water responded to the disturbance with glowing phosphorescence.  I knew this was a common phenomena but in my entire life I had yet to experience it until this moment.  For a few precious seconds we were young boys once again, doing our best to distribute the beer and wine we had consumed earlier in spectacular fashion across the waters of Vangard Bay and being rewarded with a light show that  rivalled a fireworks display.

The next morning dawned clear and sunny.  It was to be the nicest day of the trip weather-wise.  After saying our goodbye's to David's friends we motored away from the dock on glassy waters, en-route to Lund, BC - the gateway to Desolation sound.

At the dock in Vangard Bay

Motoring out in glassy waters

Day 3
The tradeoff for having blue skies and warm sunshine was no wind.  That was ok with us as we had been treated to two days of exciting downwind sailing and somewhat chilly weather.  We quickly fell into our routine of spelling each other off at the helm and enjoying the scenery.  The waters and wind remained quite calm as the temperature rose and soon we were back in t-shirts and shorts, feeling like summer had returned.  The calm weather also meant that whoever wasn't at the wheel had the chance to relax and read or putter around the boat without being tossed around by the waves.  At some point I noticed that the deck had accumulated quite a bit of dirt and bird droppings so I pulled out our deck brush and began scrubbing the deck, stopping to rinse the brush in the passing ocean at regular intervals.  We were motoring up Malaspina Strait, the strip of water between the BC mainland and Texada Island.  The time passed pleasantly as we took turns scrubbing the deck, saying high to passing boats and enjoying the sunshine.

David scrubbing the deck on our way to Lund

We arrived in Lund around 3pm but were undecided if we would stay.  Lund is the last major marina before entering Desolation Sound and we needed fuel, water and ice.  Unfortunately the marina there is a bit small to meet the summertime demand so rafting (tying boats together at the dock) is often required.  We had no interest in doing this as it is akin to staying in a hotel and having an open door to the room next to you.  Not only is there no privacy but the people on the outside boat have no option but to walk over your boat to get to the dock.  The Copeland Island Marine Park is just north of Lund and looked to be an excellent anchorage so we determined that we would go there if the marina couldn't arrange for a slip with power and no rafting.  Fortunately they accommodated us in the end and we tied up in the last available slip that was large enough for GeMara.

Lund Marina is a very pleasant stop, with a well stocked general store for provisions, a restaurant and the famous Nancy's Bakery.  It is also known as the northernmost point - and origin - of highway 101 which extends all the way to South America.  We took some time to explore and buy provisions, including some of Nancy's famous cinnamon buns which we kept for breakfast the next morning.  (This turned out to be a rookie mistake as you can buy them fresh from the oven at 7am rather than eating day-olds).

Looking back at the marina resort from our slip

The marker indicating mile zero - the start of highway 101

The famous Nancy's Bakery

It was at this point that David and I had our first test of conflict resolution for the trip.  When we were done re-provisioning and looking around the marina we headed back to the boat.  It was 5pm and I was hot so I announced it was time to relax with a well-earned drink.  I went below and happily mixed a Dark and Stormy just the way I like it with a bit of extra rum and lots of ice.  I settled into the cockpit with my drink and a bowl of Hawkins Cheesies just in time to see David hauling that spare sail out of storage and onto the deck.  He declared he was going to change our 150% genoa out for the high-cut jib which would be a much more appropriate sail for the following day when strong winds were forecast.  There was no arguing with the logic of changing the sails but his timing was horrendous.  I glanced at my icy cold drink and back at him and declared that I wasn't moving and we could do it later.  In response David manhandled the sail bag onto the deck and said he would do the job himself.  This was ridiculous as changing the sail is a 2-person job.  For a while I sat stubbornly sipping my drink listening to David grunting and flailing around the deck, first feeding the sail onto the forestay and then running back to pull on the jib halyard a little bit, only to have to rush forward again.  This was painful to watch and after a while with a roll of my eyes I put my drink down and went forward to assist.  After a while the job was done and I collapsed back into the cockpit and turned my attention back to my now watered down Dark and Stormy.  It was then that I realized my sunglasses were missing.  These are costly Maui Jim's with special reader lenses built in to the bottom.  A search of the deck where I remembered leaving them revealed nothing and it became apparent to me that as we were manipulating the sails on the deck at some point they were swept overboard.  Now I was really ticked.

Sensing a bit of tension, David offered to unpack the 150 to see if they had gotten caught up in that sail.  With a groan and a few expletives I helped him in this task, only to come up empty handed.  As we re-packed the sail I started to cool off and realized that it was no big deal and I had a spare set of sunglasses so I let the matter drop.  For his part, David didn't get defensive about it, nor did he make the obvious point that we wouldn't have felt like doing the sail later after a big dinner and a bottle of wine.  Shortly after I reconstituted my drink, David cracked a beer and the matter was over.  Later that evening David found the my sunglasses where they had fallen down underneath the dodger from where I put them down.  They had never been on the deck at all.  He handed them to me without comment.  We ended the evening by sharing a meal with a friendly couple in a big trawler across the dock and hit the sack.

The next morning we reefed the main in anticipation of a windy day and left the marina.  Most of the other boats that were leaving were turning left and heading south, as the weekend and their vacations were drawing to a close.  It felt good that we were turning north toward Desolation Sound, with lots of adventure still in front of us.

GeMara at the dock in Lund just before departure