Chronicle 15 Desolation Sound and Environs

August 24-September 2

Time once again to go grocery shopping, buy petrol and take on water. Shaman headed for the Heriot Bay Hotel on Quadra Island, our old stand-by for all the above, as well as ICE CREAM CONES (blackberry ripple). We skipped the bar where last year an inebriated resident tried to pick a fight with Doug.

Ferry from Quadra Island to Cortes

Gardening at Heriot Bay

With 30 knots of wind predicted, we screwed up our courage and headed for Von Donop Inlet the next day. We had two issues with Von Donop; one physical, one mental. The physical issue: Von Donop has a two-mile-long entrance that becomes very shallow (seven feet on a zero tide) and very narrow. The very shallow, very narrow spot has a rock in the middle. Actually, closer to the south wall. The “good” water (ha!) is on the south side. Our Hemmingway-Douglas book advises hugging the south wall, almost touching the trees. Okay, that’s fine. We took Shaman’s seven-foot-ten-inch keel in on a nine-foot tide.

The other problem with Von Donop concerns memories of our last visit, in September of 2001. We spent a sunny day hiking to Squirrel Cove on the other side of the Cortes Island. The next morning we were awakened by our cell phone: Julie was calling with the news of 9/ll. Strange that we would have had the phone on and stranger still that there would be reception in that obscure inlet. (Our cell phone has been silent this year in Canadian waters because Verizon was being pissy about Canadian coverage at a reasonable cost.)

With a storm predicted, we had a lot of company in the large bay at the end of the inlet with its many hidey-holes. At least thirty of us were looking for a good night’s sleep. The hiking trails did not beckon to us though the downpour and we were grateful that the predicted high winds never materialized.

Von Donop with a few of the remaining boats waiting for high tide to leave.

We headed north the next day to Toba Wildernest, a small marina in the middle of nowhere. I’d read about it in our Waggoner book and just had to visit. We think that 20-mile-long Toba Inlet is stunning, but we’re not sure because the 8,000 foot high mountains were wearing their clouds.

Kyle and Andrea (from the prairies of Alberta) have been here for about five years. They were joined by Rowan

and Teddy.....

Gardening at Toba Wildernest (...not sure about the thing on the beach…)

Toba Wildernest has a water-turbine mini-hydro plant. Kyle said that one of the selling points for him was the electricity provided by a year-round stream and this reliable turbine--much less expensive, trouble-free, and friendlier-sounding than its diesel cousins.

Chute retuning turbine water to the creek after it did its work. The creek comes from what we are told is a beautiful lake. It is a short, steep hike, and the Old Knees we brought with us requested we only go part way.

Fifteen or so people arrived on this classic mini-excursion boat to spend the night in the tidy cabins at Toba Wildernest.

What is this man doing? Kyle hauled Ratty up on the dock when we arrived and dumped out gallons of rainwater. After a (another) night of rain, Doug repeated the process.

Would you go for a dinghy ride in this weather???

Anchored in Prideaux Haven in Desolation Sound, we decided to go for an explore. We were towing Ratty, so this was not the ordeal it is when he is on the foredeck. However it still take some prep. Lower Tommy Tahutse on to Ratty’s transom. Secure the oars in case it gets too shallow for Tommy or he want to take a little time off. (That has never happened.) Gas can for Tommy. “Throwable device” (boat cushion) for the BC Coast guard .

“It looks like it is going to rain.”

In the five minutes it took us to get ourselves ready to depart, clouds had lowered, wind had increased from nothing to way too much, and the RAIN commenced. We rook off our life jackets and went below. The people off the boat next to us came zipping back in their inflatable as the thunder arrived.

The storm passed as quickly as it had arrived and Ratty took us around the labyrinth of coves that make up this part of Desolation Sound.

Sailboat with stern-tie, laundry, and kayak on deck.

I don’t remember the name of the boat, but she got the prize for the best paint job. It was even prettier in person (in boat). The colors were very pleasing.

We didn’t join the fun.

The guy standing watch was looking out to sea and did not see us drifting toward them. At Toba Wildernest, we saw a family of Mergansers with many tiny babies. In September! Mother Nature does interesting things to perpetuate a species and keep the eagles fed.

Classic Desolation Sound

View from our anchorage in Prideaus Haven at high tide, it looks like you can go between the islands. This is why we read charts.

Ratty chatting with Shaman at Gorge Harbor, Cortes Island, near Desolation Sound.

Leaving Gorge Harbor early in the morning, headed for Pender Harbor.

Gardening at Madera Park in Pender Harbor on the Sunshine Coast (north of Vancouver)

For two years we have admired the evolving plantings near the visitors’ center in this tiny community. We assumed that it was a community effort, but found out that it is the work of one man--a semi-retired landscaped architect who employees one person full time to work on three different plots of ground. Ain’t that grand?

This little log pusher is a memorial, probably to a tugboat crewmember or logger.

Last year on the way north we anchored in Buccaneer Bay and promised ourselves we would return. What we had not taken into account was the calm weather last year. This year we had a strong southerly wind that came into the bay over the spit connecting North and South Thormanby Islands and made finding a calm spot challenging.

Shaman found herself a hidey-hole among a lot of nasty-looking rocks and spent a quiet afternoon and night with three resident seals.

The next morning we left early to cross the Straits of Georgia, headed for Nanaimo with a forecast of 5-15 knots southerly winds. The tide had just turned, so we would have the wind against us, but the current with us. Bad combination. Shaman was taking green water over her bow, although we only had 8 knots of wind. WHERE DID THESE WAVES COME FROM? When our speed dropped to 3.5 knots, Doug turned north for Lasqueti Island in the middle of the Straits where we anchored for three hours until the wind died down.

After all of those miles under our keel this summer, we were not expecting to get in such uncomfortable (not dangerous, just a slog) water so close to home. But then we remembered that the worst weather we have ever encountered was in the Straits of Juan de Fuca. We don’t make the rules.