Friday, June 26, 2020. Julian Cove to Varney Bay via Atkins Cove and Pamphlet Cove. About 9 NM.
The rain and clouds settled in overnight in Julian Cove. Despite that, it was lovely and settled, and we had a good sleep. I woke up at around 0600 to find the drizzle continuing, with intermittent sheets of rain. The temperature outside had fallen to 12 degrees. I turned on the heater and warmed up the boat, while I made tea and cereal. The fishing boat across the way headed out around 0700. At 0730, I realized I had cell phone access, and wasn’t doing anything else, so I phoned in to our biweekly ICU Network meeting to catch up on critical care happenings in Interior Health. COVID still seems to be well in hand in our region, and plans are being made for a possible second wave in the fall. As we learn more about the disease, we are starting to get evidence on effective treatments, such as dexamethasone and remdesivir.
At 0800, Sara woke up, and we slowly brought the boat to life. We re-calculated our timing to get through Quatsion Narrows. We decided to take the extra time to check out a couple of other anchorages nearby, so around 10:00 a.m., I raised the anchor myself, for practice, and we motored out of the still cove in low, grey clouds and light rain.
Still cold enough to be grateful for our foul weather gear
Atkins Cove is directly across from Julian Cove, and looked nice as an alternative, but was not as scenic as Julian Cove. Heading up into Pamphlet Cove, we saw another otter floating on his back, as well as several seals hauled out, washing the salt water off in the freshwater showers. Pamphlet Cove was nice as well, but we still felt Julian Cove was preferable, and certainly had better protection to the North and Northwest.
Exploring inner Quatsino Sound
Leaving Pamphlet Cove, we turned inland, and passed a row of neatly kept houses along the north shore of inner Quatsino Sound. We could see power poles down to the houses, but weren’t sure where they came from, as there were no roads on Google Maps coming in to the area. It looked like a beautiful place, and the houses were wide spaced and private, each with their own dock. We assumed they were largely summer homes, as there didn’t seem to be much activity now. We had pizza reheated in the oven for lunch. It felt great to have something warm to eat in the cold and the rain.
We made our way through Quatsino Narrows at slack water, around 1230. The dense greenery rising sharply on each side of the narrow channel reminded me of the Rio Dulce in Guatemala, minus the throngs of tropical birds, and about 20 degrees on the thermometer.
Heading for Quatsino Narrows
Coming out of Quatsino Narrows, we turned into Varney Bay, and anchored more or less right in the middle. Again, I did most of the work to practice my solo skills. About half an hour after our anchor was down, another boat came around the corner. It is the first time in a while we have seen another sail boat. As they came passed us and dropped their anchor deeper in the bay, I saw their Dutch flag, and realized it was the same boat that had hauled out next to us in Nanaimo a year and a half ago. Tom and I were working on Monashee III then, and took some time to talk to the pleasant couple on board. They had sailed from Holland, something like 10 years ago, and have spent the last several years heading up to Alaska in the summer, and coming back down to Vancouver and Seattle in the winter.
Monashee III and Giebateau in Varney Bay
We put the dinghy in the water to go and see how shallow the approach to the river was. It was low tide when we went up, and it wasn’t long before we were too close to the bottom to continue, so we headed back to Monashee, and put the paddleboard in. We paddled over to the Dutch boat, and I reminded them that we had met before. They are stuck in B.C. this year, as COVID has derailed their plans to head to New Zealand, so they are making the most of it, and spending the summer cruising the outer coast of Vancouver Island. They have already been here for a couple of weeks, and it sounds like they have seen all of Quatsino sound. They suggested that the tide would be well timed to check out the Marble River early this evening, so that is now what we are planning to do, as well.
The earlier rain and cloud has largely burned off, and we are getting some sun this afternoon, but the wind has also piped up, and is gusting right into the bay. This has been a fairly typical pattern for us since we left, with afternoon and evening gusts that settle overnight. We are hoping the same will be true for us here, as having the wind howl through the rigging all night makes for a poor sleep.
Exploring Varney Bay by paddleboard
Later…
After having some canned soup with cheese and crackers for an early dinner, we headed up the Marble River at 1700, and the folks from Giebateau left at the same time. Skirting around the river delta close to land allowed us to avoid the shallow water that had stopped us earlier. Once we were in the river, we dinghied up through overhanging trees and sunlight filtering through the greenery. After a couple of miles, we came to a very narrow canyon, with looming cliffs and caves on either side. It wasn’t eerie at all, as the late afternoon sun filtered through, and made it spectacular. After the canyon, we came out into a wider spot with rapids just ahead. With all the recent rain, the lake above was full, and the river was rushing down over the rocks. We tried to go up the rapids, but the eddies and backwaters made the dinghy squirrely to steer, and with large rocks close to the surface, we thought the better of it. We circled for a couple of minutes, and the Dutch dinghy came up behind us. They tried a more aggressive line than we had to get up the rapids, but their 3.5 horsepower dinghy wouldn’t push them through.
Heading up the Marble River
So, we all turned around and went back downstream with the outward flow. Once at the mouth, we took the opportunity to explore the far side of the bay before circling back to our anchored boats. On our way back to the boat, we swung by Giebateau for a chat, and met Caroline and her partner more officially, although we still didn’t get his name (it turns out it’s Paul). They are very interesting and experienced sailors, having spent many years sailing in Pacific waters. This is their second time down the West Coast of Vancouver Island, and it sounds like we may be on a similar schedule, so it will be good to know some friendly faces on the water as I make my way south. We compared notes on the weather, and are both hopeful that things may settle by the end of the week to allow for a reasonable rounding of the Brooks Peninsula.
Paul and Caroline from Giebateau heading down the Marble River
Back on the boat, we pulled the outboard back up to its mount using the motor hoist. During the process, we had our first major loss on our trip. I hooked the flagpole with the carabiner on the end of the motor lifting line, and accidently pulled the flag and its stainless-steel pole out of it’s mount. Hearing a sploosh, I looked down to see the red and white cloth momentarily float to the surface as the pole quickly dragged it to the bottom. Now it lies 30 feet below us in water that is far too cold and dark to consider going after it. So, it looks like a new flag and staff are in our future. We better get on it – only a few days are left before Canada Day!
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