Skipper’s Log

After a rest in Port Hardy it was time to get ourselves into position for rounding Cape Caution. On the Tuesday after Memorial Day, Melinda and Grace piloted Perception across the Queen Charlotte Strait to Allison Harbor.

Winds were reasonably favorable for a reach across the strait, but with a fair amount of chop on the surface and since I was actively in work meetings we held off on putting up the sails.

We pulled into the mouth of Allison Harbor about the time my work day was over, so I was able to help with anchoring Perception deep near the head of the bay. We had good holding, and there was very little swell from the strait making it that far into the inlet. There were two other motor yachts at the head of the bay, but with so much space it still felt almost empty. Definitely a nice, peaceful place to wait for a weather window to get around Cape Caution.

The wind had died completely overnight, leaving the bay as still as glass. Sunrise coloring a cloudy sky was mirrored in the water.

We had set a crab trap the night before, and let it soak in the bay. Melinda pulled it up to find a single large male Dungeness crab. Not enough to fill the pot for yet, so we put lonely Larry in a bucket of seawater in hopes we’d catch more that night.

A good weather window was solidifying for Thursday that week, so we planned to hunker down again Wednesday night and make the crossing the next day. I preemptively took the day off Not being content with another night in Allison Harbor, we decided to move on to another anchorage I’d been excited to try.

My first choice would have been Miles Inlet, which sounds magical but I could see another boat on AIS up in the crack. Not wanting to try and fit in with other boats, we went for Murray Labyrinth instead. The Labyrinth was just outside Allison Harbor, so we motored out and wound our way into the protected anchorage among the islands. Melinda and Grace were posted on the bows to look for rocks, as the Douglass guides warned that we could be surprised.

As we made the last turn into the anchorage, Grace called out from the starboard bow that we were very close to rocks she could see under the surface. I pulled us to port and gave the rocks a wide berth. I later pulled up the Navionics application and looked at the SonarChart view of the entrance to the Labyrinth. Sure enough, there is a ridge of shallows that extends out where Grace saw the danger. I’m now a convert and refer to the SonarChart data more often than not as the detail is much finer than the base nautical charts provide. Needless to say, we used the SonarChart to follow the narrow channel back out of the anchorage and had no issues.

The anchorage in the middle of the Labyrinth was empty but for us. After dinner we explored the shores around us by dinghy in hopes of spotting petroglyphs on the vertical faces of rock. As there was no mention of such features here, we were not surprised when we didn’t find any.

When we were in Allison Harbor the day before we had noted a hummingbird flying nearby. I didn’t see the bird, but heard its distinctive whistling flight as it went by. Here in the Labyrinth, we were surprised to find a hummingbird buzzing around inside our helm station. The enclosure was zipped up, and the little bird could not escape without going down into the cockpit. After a bit it settled down and clung to the edge of the enclosure. We were able to unzip the main door and eventually he flew out.

The next morning we pulled up our crab pot, but only caught a many-legged sea star. It took some persuasion in the form of shaking the trap to get the slimy bugger to let go. Since we didn’t find any pot partners for Lonely Larry, we also returned him to the sea – maybe he’ll help populate the Labyrinth for our next visit.

With the dawn Thursday our anticipated weather-window had finally arrived. We weighed anchor, and after escaping from the Labyrinth we headed northwest to start the passage around Cape Caution. The swell was predicted to be about 1 meter that day, and the real-time data from West Otter buoy was agreeing. At this level the relevant guidebook recommendations said we’d not have a hard time of it.

The swell, while relatively low, was impressively massive. The boat rose and fell as we motored into the long-period waves, thankfully never being short or steep enough for the hull to fall and pound. Each wave moved a massive amount of water, and one could imagine how terrible a bad weather day could be. This day, even though there was a fair amount of motion, it was not unpleasant. We steadily made way around the cape along with several other boats that were in visual range of Perception.

About a third of the way into our journey for the day, we had a pleasant surprise in the form of Mike Huston calling us from Salish Dawn. He was leading a flotilla that was passing nearby on the way back south around the cape. It was nice to hear a friendly voice out on the sea.

Before long we had made our turn to the north northeast and the swell began coming from behind. We were steadily surfing up into Fitz Hugh Sound. The wind began to rise on our beam as we approached the southern end of Calvert Island. As it was still early afternoon, and we didn’t have all that much time pressure, we put up the sails and made our first miles under sail of the voyage. A bit pathetic to think we hadn’t previously, but with the wind on our nose almost the whole way we at least had an excuse.

The wind blew for a while about ten knots, then started to die. As we’d pass one of the valleys on Calvert island the wind would pick up again for a while, giving us boost in speed. Before long the wind fell off enough that the skipper fired up the iron wind and we motorsailed up to the entrance to Kwakshua channel.

About halfway up the channel we were delighted to see a small pod of humback whales. We slowed to watch them surface and blow for a bit, then continued on to Pruth Bay.

I had been dreaming of coming to Pruth Bay ever since I came across it when reading about the inside passage. The unique geography of channels piercing Calvert Island to a protected bay near the Pacific coast was intriguing. I’d read of the string of sandy beaches on the Pacific side, just a short walk from the anchorage, which can be explored by foot. On top of that, the conversion of a former fishing lodge into the Hakai Institute for ecological research sounded like a very interesting place to see.

We dropped anchor in Pruth Bay in about 50′ of water, joining three other boats already there. Two other boats were anchored in the southern arm of the bay, but we could no longer see them from our spot in front of the Hakai Institute. After celebrating our successful rounding of Cape Caution that day, we took the Dinghy in to the Hakai docks.

The docks were in great condition, and the Institute kindly allows visiting boats to tie up their dinghies to a float near the foot of the ramp. We explored the Hakai compound inside the bounds they placed on visitors, and took the forested path out to West Beach. The trail was well kept and surfaced over where it passed over marshy areas. We emerged from the forest to a magical landscape looking out onto the Pacific.

We soon discovered the main downside of the location – bugs! The mosquitoes in the air and the sand fleas on the part of the beach above the waterline were prolific. We stayed closer to the sea to avoid the latter, but the former were inescapable. We limited our stay to 30 minutes or so, enjoying the sound of the surf over the buzzing of mosquitoes.

Grace entertained herself by tromping on “eyeballs” on the beach – some kind of kelp nodules that had washed in with the previous tide. Our stay was relatively short, but it was beautiful. Perhaps we’ll stop by again on the way south, hoping for a sunny day and fewer bugs.