July 22, 2020. Dodger Channel, near Bamfield
The forecast held true, and we woke up to a foggy, rainy morning, with wind out of the south. It was cold on the boat, at about 13 C. We’d had an uneasy night, with the ongoing slight swell making it’s way in from the open ocean keeping the boat active enough that neither of us slept well. Part of being on the boat is getting attuned to all the sounds, normal or otherwise. It is rarely completely quiet, and listening to the boat becomes second nature. As you get used to the normal creaks and ticks, they become reassuring, and you know everything is alright.
Last night, though, the sound of the chain dragging across the bottom as the boat moved in the wind and the waves, and the extra moaning of the rigging, or odd clanging of a halyard makes it hard to fall deeply asleep. In addition, the surf of the ocean as it crashes on the rocks not far from us is clearly audible, and never stops here. There is also a low hooting sound that comes periodically. I think it is from waves and swell pushing air through the rocks. I heard the same sound in Nuchatlitz when I was anchored close to the outside. It is a plaintive, haunting kind of sound. It’s beautiful, but with the low skies and grey, rainy weather, it tends to bring down the mood a bit.
Anyway, we both woke up feeling tired. I was up first, and knowing we weren’t going anywhere, I thought I’d liven up the day with pancakes and bacon for breakfast. We have some fresh blueberries, too, so we had a morning feast of blueberry pancakes, with Aunt Jemima syrup and bacon. I guess that will be a historical reference soon, as I think Aunt Jemima now exists on the wrong side of a political barrier, and will get re-incarnated as something more appropriate soon. Perhaps something appropriately Canadian, given it’s Maple Syrup. Aunt Anne of Green Gables, maybe.
After breakfast we had a little energy, so we set about doing some minor boat jobs. We probably could spend a week or more working on boat projects if we wanted, but we limited ourselves to a couple of hours. We made water, and I set up a mount in the cockpit for my tablet. I’m thinking of using it as a secondary GPS/chart plotter. I’ll have to see how I like it. It is pretty remarkable that for a few dollars, I can have a full featured chart plotting app on my tablet. To replace the dedicated marine systems on the boat would cost thousands. Having both is great, as neither is perfect, and it’s nice to be able to cross reference if I need to.
The Spectra watermaker
While I was working on the tablet mount, Sara made pumpkin muffins, which turned out to be a delicious way to warm up the cabin. We actually had them for lunch, as neither of us felt like putting out any more effort. In fact, we both feel a bit groggy and headachy today. We are wondering if we are actually suffering some minor sea sickness with the constant boat motion. It is minimal, and certainly nothing like we have encountered out on the water, but it’s more consistent than we have encountered as well. At least on this trip, we’ve never been constantly rolling for more than 6 or 8 hours. We’ve now been in this anchorage for more than 24, and it may just be realigning our inner ears a bit. I seem to remember feeling like this when we were out on the Caribbean for days at a time.
Pumpkin muffins
After lunch, we read and napped, pretty much until dinner. Somewhere in there, Outbreak, who avid readers will recall I shared an anchorage with up in Hot Springs Cove, pulled into Dodger Channel, and anchored near us, but quite a way back up the channel. We are wondering if they are planning to head south tomorrow as well. It would be interesting to see them out there. I sailed around Estevan Point on the same day as they did as well, and watched them on the AIS all day.
Reading in the cockpit
Dinner was smokies and buns, with salad and carrot sticks. It’s all cleaned up now, and we are sitting in the cockpit with the enclosure up. The wind and swell is dying a bit, and we are planning our trip towards the Juan de Fuca Strait tomorrow. Pretty soon, we’ll be closing the loop on this journey along the open coast, and heading back to the inside of Vancouver Island.
Soundtrack: Hello Dreamer by Laikipia. You’re still waiting for the sun to come along…
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