June 11, 2000 - Waiting Out the Storm
We've reached Port Hardy, a small fishing town on the northeast coast of Vancouver Island. Here, we had planned to stock up on some fresh groceries (our cheese supply being long ago consumed) and a few other supplies before making the jump across Queen Charlotte Strait back to mainland Canada.
Queen Charlotte Strait is notorious for being windy, wavy and all around brutal, with huge tidal currents, pacific winds and swells, and waves bouncing off the mainland all mashed together. Needless to say, one should wait for good weather before making a crossing, and so we wait. It's currently blowing 25-30 knots at the government dock we are tied to and we are bouncing around like we're at sea. We hear it's blowing 35-45 knots out in the strait...so we'll just wait here for a day or two.
After spending four magical days in Princess Louisa Inlet relaxing in the sunshine, hiking and visiting with others cruisers on their way north, we reluctantly made our way back down Jervis Inlet and up to Powell River, a small mill town a hundred or so miles north of Vancouver B.C. Back in "civilization", we ate ice-cream, filled up with diesel (we'd been motoring quite a bit as we'd been warned), called our parents, and spent the night in the charming transient moorage docks with the fishing boats and other cruisers.
The next day we pressed on to Desolation Sound, which was no where near as beautiful as Princess Louisa, despite it's popularity in the summertime. We spent a night in Prideaux Haven, but woke up to a downpour and decided to keep going. The area is quite beautiful as well, mazelike inlets and waterways among towering green mountains. Two days later, we spent the night at Big Bay, a small fishing resort just outside of Yuculta and Dent rapids nervously awaiting our traversing of these infamous rapids the next morning.
But, our worries were for nothing -- the water was barely rippled as we slid through at slack tide. A pack of porpoises even played at our bow as we motored through the waterway! We went almost 60 miles that day, motoring through Green Point Rapids a few hours later (this on at full ebb -- quite a ride as Jenny P flew at 11.5 knots over ground). Then the currents spit us out into Johnstone Strait where we were greeted with 20 knots winds. We had a marvelous sail at last, flying at 7.0 knots. We were also greeted with tens of floating logs we had to maneuver around...one of the more dangerous navigational hazards in these parts as they aren't charted but will crack your hull easily if hit full on.
Finally, we pull into the docks at Minstrel Island. We had to stop at this little "rough and ready" resort that Jonathan Raban describes in his book Passage to Juneau. It was much as we expected as we dined on halibut and chips in a 70s decorated dining trailer with fishermen, complete with doilies under our beer mugs. Very fun, though. and we enjoyed talking with the friendly folks.
The next day, we arrived at Mamaliliculla, an abandoned Indian village on Village Island. We were met by Tom Sewid, the native guardian of the village. He was an amazing wealth of information and we had a marvelous two days talking with him and touring the village. Mamaliliculla stands for "village of the last potlatch" as supposedly that was where the last potlatch was held during the Canadian government's attempt to assimilate the natives in the early 1900s (one method being to ban potlatches). Tom informed us that the potlatches never stopped, but they were just done in secret. The village's true name is Meem Quam Leese (village with the rocks and islands in front). We were fascinated hearing the history of the sacred place, the lifestyle of the village's previous inhabitants, and the events that led to it's abandonment after thousands of years (essentially Western influence/manipulation). Tom gives tours of Meem Quam Leese through his Village Island Native Cultural Tours, and is well worth the visit -- and one is sure to get a fishing tip (or many) from Tom as he's an avid fisherman.
So now we are in Port Hardy, waiting for the winds to die down, so we can head farther northward.
-sdj-
