After checking and rechecking the tide and current tables for Whirlpool Rapids, Green Point Rapids, and Lower and Upper Rapids of Okisollo Channel, making sure that we would reach the various rapids as close to slack as possible, we left Forward Harbour, headed for Owen Bay.  It was raining cats and dogs, but we didn’t have to contend with fog or big seas, so that was a plus. 

Whirlpool and Green Point Rapids were a piece of cake.  Lower and Upper Okisollo, on the other hand, were roaring, and the tide had turned against us.  Not good.  The water seemed to be swirling in every direction.  I stuck my nose in my Kindle and tried to keep it there, in an effort to keep from screaming, which Al finds very distracting.  Luckily, we only had about 20 minutes of this nightmare.  We could finally see the entrance to Owen Bay, where we planned to anchor for the night.  The entrance is very narrow, with ugly jagged rocks on either side, and the current was twisting us one way and then the other, but Al managed to squeak through without hitting anything.   If this is what these rapids look like on a neap tide, we definitely won’t be coming through Okisollo on a spring tide.

The next day we headed for Squirrel Cove, on Cortes Island.  We had an easy trip.  At the east end of Hole-in-the-Wall, a tug towing this big crane was headed in the opposite direction.

 

 

We had rain almost every day, and the temperature at night was usually around 54 degrees.  Summer is definitely over. 

At Squirrel Cove, we were running short on fresh fruit and veggies, so I paddled to the Squirrel Cove Store to see what they had to offer.  I was pleasantly surprised to find that they had almost as much to offer as the store in Shearwater.  Being on my kayak, I was a bit limited by how much I could carry.  But, I managed to get avocados, apples, pears, plums, kiwis, broccoli, carrots, zucchini, cabbage and almond milk.  And, I managed to get it all aboard and secured on my kayak. 

We left Squirrel Cove at daybreak, headed for Boho Bay on Lasqueti Island.  the water was flat calm.  The weather forecast was for 10-15 knot winds in the afternoon.  Since the water was flat, clear to the horizon, we decided to take a chance and head down the west side of Texada Island, which would put us closer to Nanaimo.  It turned out to be the right call, as we had flat water all the way to False Bay, where we anchored for the night.

Bright and early the next morning, we headed for Nanaimo.  Once again, Georgia Strait was flat calm.  We couldn’t believe our good fortune. 

The Whiskey Golf Military Test Area was active, so Al called the Canadian Coast Guard and they verifed that our course, set for half a mile east of Ballenas Island, would take us outside the test area.  However, when we were within about a half mile of the east side of Ballenas Island, I saw a Canadian Coast Guard boat heading toward us, with someone on the bow flagging us down.  He told us we were inside the test area and had to change  to a course that would put us on the west side of Winchelsea Island, which is not what they had told us earlier.  But, who are we to argue with the Canadian Coast Guard.  We certainly didn’t want any close encounters with their test torpedos. 

When we got closer to Nanaimo, however, Al called the Coast Guard to verify the boundaries of Whiskey Golf.  He was told that Whiskey Golf does not extend to the west side of Ballenas, but to a half mile east of Ballenas.  So, we had not been inside Whiskey Golf when they flagged us down.  Oh, well, better safe than torpedoed. 

Once we got to Nanaimo, I spent the whole time posting to my blog.  We did, however, find time for a lovely lunch with our friends Doug and Marilyn MacGillivray, at the Firehouse Grill, in Nanaimo. 

Normally, we would head for Montague Harbour, from Nanaimo, but the weather was so good for traveling, that we kept on going clear to Hunter Bay, on Lopez Island, in the San Juan Islands, where we anchored for the night.

The next morning looked like a great day for traveling also, so at dawn, we headed for Seattle.

The sea was flat calm all the way across Juan de Fuca Strait.  But, by the time we got to Port Townsend, where we had to get some fuel, the wind started building.  And, by the time we got just north of Port Ludlow, we were seeing gusts to 25 knots, and the following seas were huge, probably due to the fact that there’s a spring tide.  Al had a heck of a time getting us into Port Ludlow, because our course into Port Ludlow put the seas on our beam.  But he managed it, and we spent a calm night, anchored just 25 miles from home.

The next morning the seas were still calm, as we headed for our slip in Elliott Bay Marina. 

We had great traveling conditions all the way to Forward Harbour. 

 

We spent the next few days waiting for neap tide, since our next leg will take us through a few areas with rapids. 

The weather was so benign that I was able to paddle every day.  On my first morning,  I paddled all the way to the head of Forward Harbour, where there are a few rough cabins.

 

They had a large greenhouse.  Wonder what they’re growing in there?

 

Every day I found something to photograph, like these herons…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…and these common loons, with their winter plummage…

 

 

 

 

…and this kingfisher…

 

 

…and this seagull… yummmm.

 

 

 

…and this mink…

 

 

 

 

For the last few years we’ve noticed a couple of boats anchored just outside Forward Harbour.  So, one day I decided to check them out 

 

 

 

 

 

As I got closer it became obvious that these boats had been abandoned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Very nearby, I also found the remains of a sailboat that ran aground here many years ago.

 

 

 

The weather looked good for traveling, so we headed for Boughey Bay, at the east end of Chatham Channel.  We’d never anchored there before, but our route south this year has been a bit different, and this year staying in Boughey Bay will make our next leg to Forward Harbour shorter. 

As soon as the engines had cooled, Al went down to check out the engines, make sure we’re not sinking, and all that other important stuff, as he does after every run.

 

 

It was just a short hop up Gilford Island to Bootleg Cove.  On our way, we passed the Indian village of Health Bay. 

 

 

Bootleg was beautiful, but the rain was relentless

 

I found the remains of a logging operation in the next cove over.

 

 

And, one day I discovered this interesting float piled with nets.  The sign on it said,“This critical control point forms part of complete biosecurity program”.  I’m guessing it has something to do with the salmon farms around here.

 

Not too far from the biosecurity float I found this sign. 

Now, I’ve got to worry about tsunamis, too.

It was tough getting decent shots because of the rain.  The camera has a hard time focusing when it’s raining.  But I was excited to find this pair of green-winged teals….

 

 

 

….and these hooded mergansers….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

….and these herons….

 

 

 

 

 

 

…and this red-necked grebe…

 

…and this harlequin…

 

These salal berries looked delicious enough to eat.

 

Al, meanwhile, baked this delicious loaf of beer bread.

 

On a day when it was raining too hard to get a paddle in, this bear, looking for low tide goodies, appeared on the beach near the boat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once he’d had his fill of protein, he spotted some berries for dessert.

 

Ernie’s Cove is what we named this lovely unnamed cove, when we were here for the first time with our friend Ernie Harding.  Ernie passed away last year, so we thought we would return to Ernie’s Cove this year.  What a beautiful spot.  And, there were lots of photo ops.

 

I thought this seagull perched on a beachball of a rock was amusing.

 

I found these harlequins hanging out with seagulls. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While I was trying to get closer to the harlequins, these hooded mergansers cruised by.

 

 

 

This heron was looking for lunch.

 

 

 

But then he spotted me.

 

 

And he was outta there.

A pair of dolphins swam into the cove one morning.  I wonder if they’re the same pair that was in Booker Lagoon?  Unfortunately, they were very camera shy and didn’t hang around long. 

The fog, so typical for this time of year, plagued us once again on our crossing to Booker Lagoon. 

BookerFogAug2018-IMG_3805_edited-1.jpg

And then it started raining, and it rained every day.  But, I paddled anyway,  looking for photo ops.  I found this black bear looking for low tide goodies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

This seagull seemed to be king of the rock.

 

 

 

Other than seagulls, I didn’t find anything but this kingfisher.

 

 

We enjoyed the prawns so much when we were here in May that we were looking forward to more of the same.  So, we were really disappointed when Al pulled the trap and instead of prawns, it was full of nothing but rock crabs.  Not good.  The commercial prawners must have been busy here all summer.

When Al was pulling the trap he spotted a pair of dolphins.  We haven’t seen dolphins here in years, so it was nice to see that they’re still around.

The seas were flat calm all the way to Port McNeill, but the fog eventually socked in to where we only had about 100 ft. visibility when we got to Malcom Island.  We had the radar on, of course, but with all the people out fishing in small runabouts, it was really nerve wracking. 

Other than doing some laundry and grocery shopping, I spent the whole time in Port McNeill posting to this blog. 

After listening to the weather report this morning, we decided to try to get at least as far as Millbrook Cove today.  The swell height at West Sea Otter was 1.4 meters, just a little higher than we like, but the seas were flat calm at Egg Island.  And, the current would be with us, and there wasn’t any fog.  So, we set off straight across Rivers Inlet. 

The seas were so flat that we figured we should be able to make it clear across Rivers Inlet and around Cape Caution.  At our present speed, we should be off Slingsby Channel at slack tide.  You don’t get flat seas like this for rounding Cape Caution very often, so we decided to go for it.  We couldn’t believe our good fortune.

Getting across Smith Sound was a piece of cake and the seas still flat as we rounded Cape Caution.  Fog, however, was beginning to be a concern, as we watched it creep towards us from the land.  But, we had radar, so we’d deal with it if it became a problem.

As we got closer to Slingsby Channel the seas started building higher and higher behind us.  This wasn’t supposed to happen at slack tide.

A huge commercial fishing boat was getting closer and closer behind us, working his way out to weather of us, making me very nervous.

By now, the seas were about 18 feet high!  All Al could see at the bottom of the troughs was a wall of water as the boat started climbing up the back side of the next monster swell.  In the meantime, I was busy watching the commercial fishing boat get closer and closer, the AIS showing that he was on a collision course with us.  I couldn’t  distract Al while he was fighting to keep us from broaching, so I just kept telling myself that the commercial guy had to see us, so surely he wouldn’t run us down.   Well, he eventually crossed our stern within about 50 feet.

 

Eventually, we got passed Slingsby and the swells started flattening out.  Unfortunately, the fog by now had really socked in.  After what we’d just gone through, however, the fog was no big deal.  And, as we got closer to Blunden Harbour, the fog cleared off completely. 

Today, we moved down to Big Frypan, on Penrose Island, which is the first leg of our “Getting Around Cape Caution Without Rocking the Boat” plan.  We used this plan coming north and it worked very well.  Hopefully, going south the plan will work equally well.

Leaving Green Island Anchorage, we headed southeast, through Fairmile Passage, to Convoy Passage, then heading southwest to Fitz Hugh Sound.  We were in Fitz Hugh Sound for just a short distance before we got to Darby Channel, where we headed east toward the very narrow northeastern entrance to Klaquaek Channel.  Klaquaek Channel is commonly referred to as “The Lake”, because it is surrounded by islands that offer excellent protection from the wind and seas.  The narrowness of the northeastern entrance is a bit intimidating, but with electronic charts it’s not a problem.  Continuing just a short ways south in Klaquaek Channel is Big Frypan anchorage, where we anchored for the night.  By using this route from Green Island Anchorage, we had minimized our exposure to any strong wind or ugly seas that can come up in Fitz Hugh Sound.  Nice.

I managed to get in one very short paddle around Big Frypan, but found absolutely no wildlife.

Green Island Anchorage, just 12 miles down the coast, is our destination as we leave Kwakume this morning.  We’re really enjoying these short hops, as opposed to the 12-hour slogs of yesteryear.  This is how cruising should be, relaxing.  I wish I could say the sun had come out and we were back in shorts and tee shirts.  But, the train of storms off the coast just keeps dumping rain, rain, and more rain.

There were some sun breaks, however.  I got up early one morning and I managed to paddle all the way to the bitter end of Illahie Inlet without getting drenched.  The scenery was very pretty.  Al says we’re going to try anchoring there next year.

 

 

I spotted this family of mergansers out for a morning paddle.

 

 

 

On my way back to the boat, I spotted the eagle’s nest I discovered back in May, on our way north.  Of course, the eagle was long gone.

 

As I continued on my way, I spotted another eagle’s nest almost straight across the inlet from the other nest.

 

 

Nearby, I spotted this kingfisher….

….and, plump red huckleberries.  I’m going to have to do a little research so that next year I’ll be able to  taste one of these delicious looking berries without worrying about being poisoned.