May 31, 2000 - The Holy Grail of Cruising...So Far
We said our last farewells to Sara's family at Camano Island and early the next morning we set off for Hope Island, where we were to wait for slack tide at Deception Pass. We were truly on our own now; it was a bittersweet morning as we motored in the sunny calm. That evening, after a day of motoring and even sailing a bit, we were anchored at pleasant Hope Island, nervously anticipating our voyage through the fabled Deception Pass, where currents can run 6 knots or more, early the next morning at slack tide. After dinner, we had a spectacular viewing of an enormous bald eagle landing and taking off from a nearby tree -- what was just a taste of the amazing wildlife viewing we would encounter in the future.
Timing slack water just right, the passage turned out be be eventless, although quite picturesque. Windless, we skimmed the top of the Strait of Juan de Fuca westward to Victoria, the British Columbia port where we were to check into Canada. At Victoria, we cleared customs without a hitch, pulled into the guest dock and immediately began visiting with fellow sailors. It turns out that there were several large races that weekend; in fact we were told that was Victoria's biggest sail race weekend all year. We made plans to head out the next morning since we were told we'd be blocked in the marina by other visiting yachts.
So we were off again the next morning, headed this time to the Gulf Islands (Canada's version of the San Juans), specifically to Bedwell Harbour in South Pender Island. Our anchorage there was beautiful -- sparsely populated, a gorgeous marine park -- we felt like we were really getting farther north. We spent one day there rebuilding our watermaker with success (a PUR PowerSurvivor 35 that hadn't been used in years) -- we now can fill our tanks ourselves with clean fresh water!
After two nights at Bedwell Harbour, we moved on again, farther north to Silva Bay, which was to be our jumping-off point across the infamous Strait of Georgia back to mainland Canada. Halfway to Silva, we cut across the islands to the Strait of Georgia at Porlier Pass. We found Silva bay to be a noisy little harbor, consisting mostly of several small marinas, restaurants and float planes flying in and out constantly.
As we slept the winds began to build, which our noisy (but efficient) wind generator always alerts us to. The next morning, winds outside of Silva Bay in the Strait were reported to be blowing 20 knots -- perfect sailing weather for Jenny P! Once outside the relative protection of the bay, we also found steep seas of 5-6 feet, and of course the roaring winds. We beat into the waves steering out of the harbour, Jenny P pitching up and down violently. We got her sails up at last, and began cutting smoothly through the waves. Having Jenny P's sails up made a world of difference -- now we were working together with the winds and waves, instead of fighting against them and we had a great time.
Once across the strait, we found ourselves in the lee of Texada Island in dramatically different weather conditions -- complete calm, glassy seas and the sun baking us like an oven. When our spinnaker began flapping in the breezeless air, we started up the engine and motored the few remaining miles to our next anchorage, Blind Bay.
There, we met Klaus and Johanna, a charming couple who had built their own sailboat and sailed it up to Alaska a few years ago. We got out our planning charts and Klaus pointed out the route they had taken, and where they recommended that we stop. We had a wonderful time with them hearing their animated stories. They told us that we shouldn't miss Princess Louisa Inlet, near the end of Jervis Inlet approximately 40 miles inland from Blind Bay. So we decided to take a little detour and check it out.
Were we glad we did. The Waggoner guide describes Princess Louisa as the "Holy Grail of Cruising" and they may be right. For miles we traveled (for a while sailing with our spinnaker even) up Jervis Inlet, between towering green hills and mountain peaks still sprinkled with snow. At slack at Malibu Rapids, we entered Princess Louisa and our breath was taken away. 4,000 foot tall cliffs surrounded us, with trees and moss covering the stone walls, waterfalls crashing hundreds of feet down into the clear water. The scenery was truly stunning. We anchored in front of Chatterbox falls and settled in to breathe in the beauty.
-sdj-
