June 25, 2020. North Harbour to Julian Cove by way of East Cove. About 20 NM.
1130 to 1600
We woke up to a beautiful sunny morning. The world was a different place. We could actually see through the clear enclosure. It was no longer fogged up and soaked. It was still cold, only about 13 degrees out, and we ran the heater to get the boat warm.
We are on an early to bed, early to rise routine, and were up by about 0530, but managed to stay in bed until about 0630, waiting for the cabin to heat up. Once up, we had a quick breakfast. Sara had oatmeal, and I had some fruit, and the obligatory tea.
We then set about putting the dinghy back in the water. It is wonderful to have it off the foredeck, as we can see better where we are going, without having to stoop, and look around it. We also got the outboard off the transom for the first time for the whole trip. With the weather we have had, the last thing we’ve wanted to do is go running about in the dinghy. But with the new, sunny planet we found ourselves on, it seemed like the perfect idea.
Winter Harbour dock
After a bit of fiddling, the engine fired up, and we headed in to Winter Harbour. We pulled up to a mostly empty dock and tied the dinghy off, and started to walk up towards the Outpost, the only store in Winter Harbour. As we did, we ran into the proprieter, an extremely pleasant and chatty, soft spoken man, who looked to be in his late 60s. He asked us if we needed anything from the store, and we explained we were just there to stretch our legs and enjoy the sunshine, as we hadn’t been off the boat for several days. He told us about the boardwalk that ran along the entire harbour, and the trail that went the other way, back across the peninsula to view the bay we had just come across in the dinghy.
The dinghy finally got to go for a trip!
Armed with the essential knowledge to explore Winter Harbour properly, we set out along the boardwalk, passing between the waterfront cabins and the ocean. They were in various states of repair, with some looking quite new, while others were greyed and weathered from the long, wet years they had stood there. One was for sale. It was an older cabin, all grey and browning shingles, with a bit of a rickety look, and a long dock across the mud flat out to deep water.
Winter Harbour real estate
The boardwalk was springy and rotten in places, firm and new in others. It passed through lush, deep green forest, wet from all the recent rain. We saw large slugs coming out in the first sun they had seen in days. About 1 km along, the boardwalk ended at a small group of rental cottages, which seemed largely uninhabited. We turned around and walked back, enjoying the quiet morning all to ourselves.
Enjoying the boardwalk
Once back at the Outpost, we circled around behind it, and walked the 10 minute Botel trail across the peninsula to the rocky beach which had been exposed by the low tide. We tried a short walk along the beach, but the mussel encrusted rocks that were a bit bigger than a baseball made it difficult going, so we turned around and headed back.
The Botel Trail
At the Outpost, we stopped outside the door, to read the sign that said they were open from 1 p.m. to 6 p.m. It was about 10 a.m., so we were just turning to leave when the storekeeper popped open the door, and said “Come on in!”. We felt a bit bad, since we didn’t really need anything, but Sara bought a bottle of frozen milk, to be used once it thawed. The storekeeper explained that is how they got all their milk, and they did well with it all winter. We also bought some snacks, and had a long chat about sailboats. The man in the store was about to head over to Port Hardy to pick up the 28 foot sailboat he had just bought. He was a new sailor, and was planning to sail it around the north end of the island with a more experienced friend. We cautioned him to watch the weather closely, and he seemed to appreciate the advice. I certainly wouldn’t want to be out in what we came through in a 28 foot boat.
We headed back to Monashee III, and got ready to move on down Quatsino sound. We raised the mainsail at anchor, and sorted out the reefing lines on the new sail, which hadn’t been tied quite right. We hadn’t used the mainsail since we left Nanaimo, and were looking forward to a sunny sail down the sound.
The beach at the end of the Botel Trail
As we motored out into deeper water, we saw a log lying right in our way, with funny bumps on it. Coming closer, we realized it was another sea otter, lying on his back with his paws in the air. He watched us approach, and didn’t seem bothered by us at all. Our course brought him within a few feet, and he didn’t bother to dive under until about half the length of the boat had passed. Sea otters and bald eagles around here seem as plentiful as pigeons and squirrels in the city.
The wind piped up as we turned East in the Sound, headed further into the Island. It was more or less behind us, so we pulled out the genoa and let out the main. In a few minutes, the engine was off, and we had a wonderful quiet reach down the Sound, hitting 7 knots at times.
Unfortunately, not long after that, our phones started to buzz as we got back into Telus coverage. I made the mistake of looking at my email, and found the sad news that a friend had died a few days ago. She had been sick, but not expected to go so soon. I responded to the notice about that unfortunate event, and before long was immersed in work queries and other emails. Sara took the helm as I tried to respond to the most urgent of them. It had only been three days without access, but quite a pile had developed.
After checking my email, we made our way into East Cove, our intended anchorage for the night. The guidebooks said great things about it, but it didn’t appeal to either of us. The main anchorage was about 50 feet deep, but there wasn’t enough room to swing at 5:1 scope, so we tried anchoring at 3:1. The anchor stuck firm, but the wind blew right into the Cove, and we had an uneasy feeling about the place. We thought about it briefly, and then decided to carry on to Julian Cove, another 11 miles further up the Sound.
Back out on the water, we motored. The wind was still behind us, but it started to die, and we needed to change course frequently to navigate among some low islands and rocks, so it would have been a jibing battle to try and sail. It didn’t take long before we turned into the stunning Julian Cove. With a lone tree island marking the entrance, a grassy river delta at the head of the cove, and a stunning tree covered mountain as a backdrop, the empty cove was far more dramatic, and far more protected than East Cove. We dropped the anchor in 40 feet, and settled down for a snack.
A lone tree island marking the entrace to Julian Cove
The sunny day we had started with began to fade as familiar clouds rolled over the mountains to the south. About an hour after we came in, it started to rain a bit. A fishing boat pulled into the anchorage as well, and dropped the hook across the Cove from us. The sound of his radio carried loudly across the water, but wasn’t too irritating. It saved us the power we needed to play our own music.
Despite the approaching clouds, we fired up the barbecue, and cooked a salmon steak, which we ate with rice and a salad. Eventually, the fishing boat turned off his radio, and now we can just hear the hum of his generator. A few minutes ago, several booms rang out through the hills, which sound like maybe gunshots off somewhere? Not close enough to be unnerving, but a definite reminder that we are getting closer to people as we work our way up Quatsino Sound, back towards Coal Harbour, and nearer to Port Hardy.
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