July 13, 2020. Bligh Cove to Hot Springs Cove. 36 NM
For the first time in a long time, it didn’t rain overnight. It was actually sunny this morning, and things are looking up weather wise!
I was up at about 0600, knowing I had a long day ahead of me. There was a lot of dew on the dodger windows, and it looked like the sun might warm up and clear some of it off, so I took my time over breakfast. It was too cold for anything to evaporate, though. The temperature outside was still 9.9 degrees when I finished breakfast. So I decided just to head out anyway, and let the sun warm the boat up as I went.
Still pretty cold outside (outside temperature is in the bottom left)
I put up the mainsail at anchor, hoping for some wind out on the open ocean so that I could finally get some sailing in. My day started with a motor out Ewin inlet. The swells built as I went, until I was climbing up and down some reasonably big waves, taking them head on as I motored out of Nootka Sound back into open water. There was little wind, though. The highest I was seeing was about 3 knots as I came around Estevan Point. As I turned south, the swells were on my starboard quarter, and the boat rocked back and forth quite a bit, flopping the main back and forth. I tied off the boom to try and stabilize things a bit.
Beautiful morning in Bligh Cove
Clearing Estevan Point marks one of the big milestones of a West Coast transit. It is the third and final major point I need to get past. It is another spot where bad weather can be amplified, and it requires some respect. Today was not too bad, though. I stayed about 2 miles off the point as the guide books recommend, since there are low lying rocks that come quite far out into the water.
Estevan Point, one of the last major hurdles on the West Coast trip
Not long after clearing the point, the wind started to climb as the day warmed up. Before long, I was seeing 8 knots behind me, so I pulled out the genoa, let out the mainsail with the preventer on, and turned off the engine. Before I knew it, I was sailing at a respectable 3 to 4 knots. Not only that, somehow I got a cell signal out there, so I took the opportunity to call Sara and let her know that I was finally sailing in the open ocean! I also called my parents, as I rocked along before the ocean swells, enjoying the quiet and the wind power.
Finally, a solid day of sailing and some sun!
It was getting to be lunchtime, so I decided to practice my open ocean cooking technique. I went down below and released the locks on the gimballed stove, then cooked up a delicious meat and cheese quesadilla. As it was cooking, I popped up and down, keeping an eye on the water around me. I was only 2 or 3 miles offshore, but it is remarkable how quickly you feel like you are really out in the open. The only other boat around was a sailboat making for HotSprings Cove, but keeping closer to shore, and he was almost 2 miles away.
Quesadilla, cooked under sail. Delicious!
After lunch, the wind started to pick up. My heading was taking me further away from land, but it was the best I could do and maintain a downwind course without jibing. Eventually, though, it was time to jibe, and I managed a pretty controlled change of course, furling in the big genoa, then letting it out again on the new tack. The wind continued to climb, and my speed picked up to 6.5 knots, as the wind started to hit 18 to 20 knots. Fortunately, I had raised the main with the first reef in, not knowing how wild it might get out on the ocean, so things stayed well controlled.
By the time I was just outside Hotsprings Cove, it was blowing pretty hard, but the genoa furled, and the main came down without difficulty. I turned back downwind to enter the cove, and as I did so, I saw some spray not far off my bow. I throttled back on the engine, and a humpback swam past the boat going the other direction. He was only a few hundred feet off my port side, and I could hear clearly every time he came up to blow.
I turned into HotSprings Cove, and motored past the other boat that I had been watching all day on the AIS. It is called Outbreak, which is sort of funny, given our current pandemic situation. It makes me wonder if it is an epidemiologist or infectious disease doc on board.
The anchor set right away in 20 feet of water, just past the public dock. I took a short break, then tidied up the mainsail and all the lines. Now, it is getting close to dinner time. It has been blowing hard all afternoon, and the boat has been hunting back and forth on the anchor. I haven’t seen any sign of dragging, but I also haven’t had the nerve to get off and go check out the hotsprings. I think I might wait until the morning, when hopefully the wind will be more settled.
All the guidebooks warn of the float planes and tourist boats roaring in and out of here all day long, but so far, I haven’t seen any activity other than Outbreak resting at anchor not far from me. I guess COVID had impacted the tourist traffic in here, too. If I can check out the hotsprings early tomorrow, there is a chance I might have little competition, which I gather is a pretty unusual situation.
Outbreak in Hotsprings Cove
Current soundtrack: Van Morrison, MoonDance.
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