Coming Home! (West Coast of Vancouver Island)

August 1 - 2:

We started our journey south from Haida Gwaii in the afternoon. Dave had played with the whisker pole the previous day so deployment and gybing would be easier for wing-on-wing sailing. It worked well until winds died during the night, and we had to motor the rest of the way.  

Motoring during a night shift is boring. At least when we’re sailing, we can focus our attention on sail trim and wind angle and away from the cold and fatigue. But at least the conditions were safe.     

We rounded Cape Scott around midday on August 4^th, thankful the passage took only one overnight. We pulled into Quatsino Sound, turned north into Forward Inlet, and dropped the hook in North Harbour just before dark.  

A whale waving us off, SGang Gwaay in the distance

Wing-on-wing

Sunset at sea

Sunset at sea

Landfall! (kinda)
Triangle Island, first island we saw off Cape Scott

North Harbour in the fog

August 3 - 4      

Winter Harbour (originally known as Oyagamla) is just three miles up the inlet from our anchorage, so we headed there once awake. Historically, the town was used by four Kwakwaka’wakw tribes as a winter village, hence the anglicized translation. Now, with only 6 (!) year-round residents, Winter Harbour caters entirely to fishermen. Most visitors arrive by road from the east side of Vancouver Island and use the boat ramp to launch kayaks or fishing skiffs.

We tied to the visitor dock at Outpost Marina. We read about a small general store, a laundry machine, and showers on land, and we were excited. Due to the isolation of the town, the general store was pretty limited and expensive. However, the cashier was friendly, thanking us for bringing our own bags and remarking “every sailboat who comes through here always brings their own. No one else does.” Heck ya, sailors.

We shared the visitor dock with another couple, Ron and Kirsten, and their beautiful 40 ft. Pacific Seacraft named Just Lucky. They are Shilshole liveaboards as well, though they headed north about a year before we did and wintered in Petersburg. At times, we felt we rushed through this trip and didn’t get to know places intimately enough. We were fascinated with their experience of staying an extra season in Alaska and becoming a local.  

They invited us over for drinks the night of August 6^th. Like everyone we’ve met on this trip, Ron and Kirstin are warm, down-to-earth people. They dream of going off-shore to a place “where the temperature is warmer than my age” as Ron puts it, and they seem to have the will and the boat to do so.       

We had our first engine issue of our trip here in Winter Harbour, but fortunately, it was minor. Dave cleaned the sea water strainer, and one of the bolts that hold the cap on for a watertight seal broke when he reassembled it. Without that bolt, salt water leaked into the engine compartment whenever the raw water valve was open. Ron brainstormed options with Dave, and together they came up with a bailing wire jerry-rig to get us back to Seattle. Later, we called Dave’s dad on our SAT phone, and he told us the jerry-rig was what he would have done too. He’s our go-to guy when anything breaks, so we felt confident it would work. Still, we monitored the engine temperature, the strainer, and the bilge regularly. Update: This solution got us home!

When I woke up in the middle of the night to use the head, I forgot we were docked and panicked—Our anchor light isn’t on! What if someone hits us?! I rushed to turn the switch and fell back to sleep. This was the first dock we stayed at since Prince Rupert, and apparently, I was still in anchorage mode! 

The village of Winter Harbour; Just Lucky in foreground 

Kirsten on Just Lucky; Ron in cockpit

Lots of otters on the west coast!

August 4 - 5

We finished boat projects in the morning of the 5^th, so we left Winter Harbour late in the day. We aimed to make our way south if even just a short distance. We first anchored in Gooding Cove, but it was far too rolly to spend the night.

Instead, we pulled anchor an hour later and headed out further south, sailing offshore late into the evening. Once we rounded Kwakiutl Point, we were beating into big winds and white, sideways seas—but once we turned east into Brooks Bay, we were comfortably surfing. Building crests would pick up our transom and carry us at over each hallowing trough. 

We reached 10.5 knots at one point! As fun as it was, we were on high alert, making sure to avoid rocks and kelp beds as we surfed closer to shore.

As we reached Scouler Entrance, the seas and winds had calmed. We anchored in Klaskino Inlet, in a small basin behind Anchorage Island. Despite the rough conditions in Brooks Bay, the basin was perfectly calm. Highly recommended anchorage.

Sunset at Scouler Entrance

Dave taking down the sail

August 6 - 8

The winds were still blowing strong from the south, and we didn’t want to beat around Brooks Peninsula into that. Brooks Peninsula is no joke: in the worst conditions, it’s known to knock down even the most seaworthy cruising boats. The next day would be slightly calmer, so we stayed in Klaskino Inlet an extra day.

By waiting an extra day, we were able to enjoy the peninsula like we would any other coast: calmly. Thousands of seabirds and even a couple of whales converged at Solander, the island just off the coast of the peninsula.

After rounding Brooks, we anchored in Bunsby Islands further south and took the kayak around the maze of coves. We heard some rustling and stick cracking in nearby trees. A black bear casually meandered out of the bushes and started for some salal berries near shore. He looked over at us indifferently and began eating. Very cool. After several minutes, we kayaked on.

The next evening, we made it to Yuquot/Friendly Cove in Nootka Sound. The anchorage was uneventful simply because we anchored late in the evening and left early(ish) the next morning. After reading about the place later though, we’re hoping to return and spend more time there in the future.

Solander Island

Bunsby

Bunsby

And even more Bunsby!

 Thank you for not eating us, Black Bear.

August 9 -11

Our next destination was Hot Spring Cove, a popular anchorage just north of Tofino in Clayoquot Sound. And popular it was! Heading north up the inlet, we saw a horde of tourists in the pools and on the surrounding rocks. Several tour boats rafted up to the dock. After seeing so few people in the last several weeks, this was a shock to our systems. What is this madness?!

Fortunately, the tour boats left by 6, and the hot springs became less crowded. The campers and overnight boaters—much fewer in numbers—hesitantly poked their heads out their tents and cabins and made their way to the springs.

We decided to wait until 9pm to give others a chance to soak. After tying up our kayak to the near-empty visitors' dock, we walked the beautiful 2 km. rainforest trail. A boardwalk lined the full length of the walk, the planks carved with boat names that have visited the springs over the years. BC Parks plans to remove the boardwalk this fall, so yay for good timing!

We arrived at the springs after dark and found our way down the rock path into the water. At this extreme high tide, only two of the four pools were uncovered. Tall rock walls hugged the pools on both sides, creating a cozy ravine feeling. The Milky Way shone down through the granite opening. Another camper lit tealights and spread them around the rocks for an intimate effect. The hot water poured down the rocks on the shore like a sulfuric shower while cold saltwater flooded in through from the ocean. 

We squeezed into the pools with about eight others. Although we couldn’t see them well, we felt a kinship for sharing such a place together. Every time the surf flooded in, everyone would laugh and slide and try not to land in one other’s laps. Seaweed would wrap around our arms and legs. We would try to hold a conversation in the short time before the next wave would hit. Apparently, this tide is a rare experience—another reason we’re thankful we came when we did.

Well after midnight, Dave and I finally left the sanctuary. We walked slowly through the rainforest until we reached our kayak and an open, cosmic night sky. As Dave moved his paddle through the water, glitter swirled around our kayak in a Starry Night phosphorescent display. Billions of stars illuminated the way above us and below us. It was magic. A baptism of gratitude for the adventures we shared and beautiful culmination of our voyage.

Carved plats

View from springs

The next day around low tide, Dave and I had the springs all to ourselves

August 11 – 15

To us, our trip ended in Hot Spring Cove. At this point, we were excited to see family and ready to get back in the swing of things before work started up again. We know we rushed through this area but promised ourselves we would explore it more when we circumnavigate Vancouver Island in a couple years.

The next few days went as followed: we anchored in a small bight outside Tofino, a small nook in Dodger Channel (Barkley Sound), and behind Woods Nose in Port San Juan (Strait of San Juan). The skies were heavy with smoke from the BC wildfires, but we were able to see three (!) pods of orcas swim by. We entered the US in Port Angeles on August 13, cleared customs, and anchored for the night. Our last night was spent at Port Ludlow, one of our favorite anchorages in Puget Sound.

On August 15^th, we finally sailed home. The seas were flat and winds just right to fly the spinnaker. Outside the breakwater of our home marina, we took a bit longer than usual to snuff the spinnaker and put up fenders. We knew that as soon as we docked, our trip would be over, our dream fulfilled.

Our family smiled and yelled for us at the end of our dock and followed us down to our slip. Tears welled up. Long hugs ensued. We did it. And De Novo was a champ.

So smokey in the Strait of Juan de Fuca!

Gorgeous wooden boat in Port Ludlow

Coming home to Shilshole!

Thank you to everyone who read our blog and shared in this adventure with us. J