Heading Toward Sunshine

We made the short hop from Klemtu to Shearwater on August 27, immediately invading the fishing resort's laundry and public shower facility which were convienently located in the same builidng. We gorged on halibut sandwitches and pecan pie at the restuarant. We decided to stay for two nights, to avoid some rumored bad weather for the next leg of the trip, which would be a long one and for part of it we would be exposed to the Pacific, without protection from seaward islands.

I bought a beautiful coho from a fisherman and we had that for dinner for a couple of days. It was the best sashimi I've ever had. Marianne and Mike are looking at it affectionately, and I must say, it did inspire such pleased expressions.










We left after dinner to travel by night through the open water part of the next leg. The helmsperson couldn't see anything in the water and it was a bit disconcerting to hear logs bumping against the hull as I was trying to sleep. The sun rose as we approached Vancouver Island -- a beautiful morning.

We made our next stop at Port Neville, which was really just a dock run by some exceptionally friendly people. The weather was sunny and beautiful, giving us the crazy notion that swimming would be a fun thing to do. Erica, the host's daughter, took us on a hike to a swimming hole where the water was a balmy 55 degrees. David and Katie got in and out of the water, but Marianne actually swam around a bit. Crazy Bavarian. I got in up to my ankles and could hardly stay in long enough for Marianne to take a picture.

They hosted a dessert pot luck that night. Due to heavy cookie consumption and a dearth of selection at Shearwater, I think we brought some miniature Hershey Bars and wine. Fortunately the others tied up at the dock that night did a little better. We vowed after this to always keep a pie aboard -- just in case.

On the way to Campbell River for a resupply, we passed through Seymore Narrows (hee hee), where the current is concentrated into a strong flow. Boats are cautioned against going during maximum current, as they tend to loose control and run into things. We didn't wait for slack tide, and were helped through by 11 knots of current. This was the easiest 17 knots I'd ever made on that boat. But the wirlpools were a little worrisome. I'm not if getting stuck in one means certain death or not, but we managed to avoid them, and made it safely to Squirril Cove.

That bit of a ripple on the water above is actually a wirlpool.
That's the knotmeter showing us going 17.1 knots. How fast is that? Most of the boats I take out on SF bay do about 5 knots. The Barking Spider was doing 8-9 knots without the current. So the 11 knot current (YIKES!) more than doubled our speed. That still blows my mind.

Didn't see squirrils at the cove, but many purple starfish, oysters and crabs.

After a nice night, we were off to catch the high tide to get into Roscoe Bay. We were a bit early and dragged bottom in 8.5 feet of water. It was neat to be able to see to the bottom, to see we were in the deep part of the channel and know what we were getting into. Literally. Now I can say I've gone aground. No big deal, we backed out and waited for the tide to come up a bit more and then headed in. The water was full of jellyfish, which added another to fret about while getting in and out of the kayak from the deck which was 5 feet off the water. Went for a swim in Black Lake. It was comparatively warm, but being a chicken, it still took me a half hour of careful deliberation in ankle-deep water before taking the plunge. The deciding factor was when Mike, who is a notorious cold water hater, dove in before me. The next day we went for a hike to the top of the local high spot. The fog obscured what I'm sure would have been a spectacular view.

Unfortunately, many of the pictures I took from this point on were later eaten by David's laptop.