Sailing to Princess Louisa Inlet - Part I - Smugglers Cove

Note:  As an alternative or complement to this blog, check out the 30 min YouTube video of our trip above.

The cruising guide Waggoner refers to Princess Louisa Inlet as the "holy grail" of northwest cruising destinations.  This is not an exaggeration.   This stunningly beautiful fiord is far enough away from everything to be unspoilt  but close enough to Vancouver be accessible to a determined sailor with a week to spare.  David and I had been hearing about this special spot ever since we started sailing and this spring was our time to see it for ourselves.

First a little history:
Princess Louisa Inlet (PLI) is located near the top of Jervis Inlet on the BC coast.  The narrow entrance to PLI was first identified by Captain George Vancouver in 1792 while he was looking for the Northwest Passage.  At the time the tide was ebbing and what we now know as Malibu Rapids presented a formidable (if temporary) barrier so he simply noted it and moved on.  It wasn't until 1860 that Captain George Richards surveyed and mapped PLI and its surrounding features.

In 1919, the core of PLI was purchased by James "Mac" MacDonald.  He came to cherish the spot so much that in 1953 he donated the land to the Princess Louisa Preservation Society to ensure it remained in its pristine state for the enjoyment of future generations.  In 1964 it was acquired by BC parks and has remained protected land ever since.  The only hint of private development is the lodge that is built at the entrance adjacent to Malibu rapids.  Once catering to Hollywood stars and elite businessmen, it was closed after a polio outbreak and remained so until being purchased and reopened as a youth camp.  The PLI Preservation Society still exists and its followers are a dedicated group.  Some still talk fondly of playing bridge with Mac MacDonald and spending long summers there years ago.

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We set off for PLI on a beautiful May morning with blue skies and unseasonably warm temperatures. There was a good southeast wind blowing which we considered to be a blessing on our trip because it would push us downwind all the way up to our first destination, Smugglers Cove.  It wasn't long before the clouds crept in but temperatures stayed comfortably warm.  Additionally, sailing downwind always feels like there is little or no wind at all so it was a very pleasant sail indeed.

Given how much thought we put into the decision to purchase an autopilot, it didn't take long for us to embrace the new addition.  In a word, we love it.  For anyone reading this who might be sailing without an autopilot, we heartily recommend it.  No sooner than we emerged from First Narrows, we had the autopilot engaged and took advantage of the freedom it offered to move around.

The new autopilot was even better than we imagined

There isn't much to report about this leg of the trip.  It was just a languid day of sailing and catching up with each other.  Meals are an important part of breaking up a day on the boat and so I was glad when David offered to go below and prepare bunwiches and tea for lunch.  A while later he handed up my plate and I looked at it with more than a trace of disappointment.  Inside the ample white Portugese bun was the most meagre offering of sliced ham ever served.  With some mouthfuls the meat was almost undetectable.  For context, one of my favourite meals while traveling in New York City is a pastrami sandwich from a good Jewish deli.  Here the meat is piled high and rightly it is the bread that is dwarfed by meat, not the other way around.  I asked David why we were rationing the meat and for some reason this struck him as funny.  He spent the next hour lapsing into spontaneous fits of private laughter at my expense.  I didn't feel like going below and pulling everything out of the fridge to salvage my sandwich so instead I soldiered through it, taking copious gulps of water in order to swallow the disproportionately large mouthfuls of bread.  I made a note to do the cooking from there on.

When we arrived in Smugglers Cove David immediately offered to go out in the dinghy to run the line for our stern tie.  I think he was still smarting from my stinging rebuke last year when he wasn't paying the line out fast enough so he thought he'd take the other job instead.  As he rowed ashore I payed the line out smoothly and wondered what could be so hard about it.  I decided I would pay him back for last year so I planned to jerk the line short repeatedly as he rowed back to the boat.  However in the end I didn't need to bother as he made life difficult enough for himself.  One of the oar locks in the dinghy is broken and won't hold an oar.  There are others but rather than work this out David got frustrated and decided to make it back to the boat with only one oar.  The comedy that ensued was better than anything I could have created by jerking the line short.  But I did it once just for good measure.

David managing our stern line with just one paddle

That night a gentle rain fell and when we awoke there was still something between rain and mist falling on this most serene little anchorage.  I had just purchased a new camera so this morning there was ample opportunity to experiment with it.  As the morning progressed the sun shone in beneath the rain clouds and provided some dramatic lighting for additional photos.  I had to force myself to put the camera down and just enjoy the moment while sipping a hot cup of coffee.

Before long it was time to go and after cleaning up we retrieved our anchor and stern line and set off. Emerging from the cove we were just considering when to set the sails when we saw a huge splash dead ahead.  We were in for a treat...