Blasting Through to Sitka

4/20/2017

The next part of our trip was a mostly business transit through to Sitka.

First from Port McNeill around Cape Caution to Fury Cove. Fury Cove is a really pretty spot, so we stayed a second day and just hung out.

Next we did a somewhat marathon run past Bella Bella and Shearwater, all the way to Bottleneck Cove.

Then from Bottleneck into the Grenville Channel to Lowe Inlet and Verney Falls. Verney Falls was really running, and all you need to do is drop an anchor in front of it and the outflow current holds your boat facing the falls. Not a bad view for the evening.

Verney Falls, Lowe Inlet, BC

Then the next day we went straight to Cow Bay Marina in Prince Rupert. Prince Rupert tends to be windy and exposed, but the new marina really makes it a much more hospitable stop than it ever was before. And the food at the Cow Bay Café right by the Marina office is just outstanding.

Fog on the Grenville Channel

After two days in Prince Rupert, we crossed the Dixon Entrance to Ketchikan where we checked back into the US. We are members in the Small Vessel Reporting Service, or SVRS, and it is working much better now. The first time we used it three years ago, the local customs office wasn’t sure what to do with us. And to this day the special SVRS reporting phone number is a disconnected line. But this time the process went very smoothly, and as always the Customs officers in Ketchikan are courteous and helpful.

We left Ketchikan first thing the next morning and went straight to Exchange Cove on Baranof Island. Then from Exchange cove to Kell Bay which is a little ways up the Affleck Channel on Kuiu Island.

Kell Bay, Kuiu Island

Then from Kell Bay to Red Bluff, then Red Bluff to Appleton Cove in Peril Strait. The stop at Appleton Cove allowed us to align our timing with yet another narrows with fast current, this time Sergius Narrows. It runs between 5 and 7 kts and is not safe other than around slack water.

An early departure from Appleton placed us at Sergius at slack water, but with a 300’ Alaska State Ferry coming up from behind us with plans to pass through at about the same time. A quick discussion with them on the radio showed that we would make the narrows about 5 minutes ahead of them, so we agreed that I would speed up and they would slow down to give a little more separation. We both made it through as planned, and the ferry overtook us shortly after exiting the narrows. A few hours later, we arrived at Eliason Harbor in Sitka and got tied up for a few days while we re-provisioned and waited the arrival of some friends who would join us for a week of cruising.

While in Sitka, Ludvig’s Bistro was recommended by a number of people, so we checked it out. Wow, really excellent. I highly recommend it if you are ever in town.

Ludvig's Bistro in Sitka - great food.

Yaculta and Dent Rapids

4/17/2017 Yaculta and Dent Rapids

Our past trips north through southern BC have always been pretty direct runs north our south, and we have always gone via Seymour Narrows, Discovery Channel, and Johnstone Strait. This time we decided to take the more inland route and pass through Yaculta and Dent Rapids. These are some of the more treacherous rapids in the PWN with high currents, whirlpools, and other such things unsavory for boaters.

It’s essential that you transit within a narrow window around slack current. There is about a 30 minute transit time between the two rapids, so you need to decide whether to split the difference and hit one rapid 15 minutes early and the other 15 minutes late, or time one for slack and hit the other 30 minutes late or early. Since Dent is the more treacherous of the two, we opted to time Dent for slack current, and reach Yaculta 30 minutes early.

As is often the case, anticipation was the worst part of the trip. After lots of studying of current tables and charts, and consulting with friends who had been through before, we decided to anchor the night before our transit in Squirrel Cove on Cortes Island. An early departure the next morning would put us at Yaculta 30 minutes ahead of slack, and at Dent in time for the 9:00 or so slack current.

Planning the approach can be tricky too. Leading up to slack water there is of course current on the approach route – sometimes a lot of current. Our boat can only do about 9kts, so planning needs to account for any current against us. If we expect an average 2 kt current against us, then I need to plan the transit assuming 6-7 kts of actual headway. If there is less current it’s no problem – I can just slow down. But if there is more current than expected, there is nothing I can do about it, and the result might be a late arrival and inability to transit the rapids.  So you need to err on the side of assuming slower rather than faster progress.

If the current is with us, then I typically plan around 8-9 kts of total speed including the current. That way, if there is less current, I can still make 8-9 kts, and if there is more I can just slow down, or even circle back if required.

With all this in mind, we planned our departure and got underway. But not long into the trip, I started to worry that I had messed something up because instead of a favorable current sweeping us towards Yaculta, we had an opposing current and were not making the required speed to get there in time for slack. I had been warned that although the Canadian Hydro Service (CHS) chart tables were accurate, many other tide calculators were off by significant amounts – enough to miscalculate a safe transit. Another common mistake with tide tables is mixing up daylight and standard times. Some charts do the conversion for you, and others don’t. All these questions were running through my mind as we chugged along at flank speed trying to make progress against an opposing current when I was expecting a favorable current.  It was looking like our arrival time was going to be way off.

Fortunately, the problem wasn't as bad as I feared. The initial channel that we were in had current flowing against us, but as soon as we turned into the channel leading to Dent, the current shifted around as expected and we were back on track for a slack arrival.  Phew.  Dodged that one.

Passing through at slack water you might wonder what all the fuss is about. But just go look for Youtube videos of Dent Rapids and you’ll see that the fuss is well justified.

We passed through Yaculta with favorable but safe current, and 30 minutes later through Dent with nearly slack current.  From there, we had building current behind us pushing us along.  And it was early in the day (maybe 10:00) so we pushed on.

Next up were the Greene Point Rapids.  We hit them at near peak current, but it's a much larger area and safe to transit with higher current.  Once through Greene Point, we were in Chancellor Channel and would soon face a decision point.  We could remain out of Johnstone Strait and head for Wellbore Channel and stay the night somewhere in that area, or go into Johnstone Strait and head for Port McNeill.

We decided we would proceed based on the conditions in Johnstone.  If conditions were good, we would jump into Johnstone and make a run all the way to Port McNeill.  As we approached, I saw a boat maybe 10 miles ahead of us called Drumbeat, and they were now out in the part of Johnstone that is usually the worst, so I hailed them on the radio to see what conditions were like.  Where we were in Chancellor was dead calm.  Drumbeat confirmed that Johnstone was calm too, so we went for it.

The run down Johnstone was excellent, but as we started to reach the mouth and approach Alert Bay and Port McNeill beyond that, the wind started to kick up.  It's common for the winds to pick up in the afternoon, and this seems particularly acute around Port McNeill.  Once before we arrived in 20-30 kts winds and had a hard time getting docked.  This time was only slightly better.

The further in the docks you can get in Port McNeill, the better the protection there is.  At the outer most docks, it can be pretty exposed.  This time there were a couple of slips in pretty far that were available, and I thought the wind would be on our nose once I got turned into the slip.  But as we got in, the wind must have been channeling in some way because I found it holding us off the dock, and no matter how much I ran the thrusters I just couldn't get close enough to the dock to get a line one.  So we gave up on that and pulled around the other side of the docks to a side tie where there was a lot more room, and more importantly where we were not totally side to the wind.  This time, with a little effort and some help from the captain of Drumbeat, we were able to get tied up securely.

Some Winter Cruising in the Pacific Northwest

We are out for a little winter cruising.  We went from Seattle to Port Townsend yesterday.  20-30kt winds on the nose most of the way, but sea state was fine.  I was a little worried about getting into Pt Townsend in the wind, but it was fine.  It's a very tight dog leg entrance, then immediate 90 deg turn into the slip.  With strong cross wind, it can be interesting.  Last time we came in here was one of our first trips in the boat and the thrusters started working intermittently as we were making our entrance in a very strong wind.  I had pretty well resigned myself to hitting the breakwater, docks, or some other boat, but we managed to get in without unauthorized contact.  This time was much better.

We plan to spend the next week or two poking around the San Juans and Gulf Islands, ending up in Vancouver where we will keep the boat for a while.

Kuiu Island, and more

Kuiu Island in part of the SE Alaska's Alexander Archipelago.  It's actually the 15th largest island in the US, yet only has a population of 10 people.  All of the island is in the Tongass National Forest, and parts are also within Tebenkof Bay Wilderness area, and the Kuiu Wilderness Area.  We spent a good chunk of our time in Alaska this summer circumnavigating and exploring Kuiu Island, and the neighboring areas.
First stop was kind of in the other direction, with a trip to Misty Fiord.  I never tire of all the water falls

Once in Misty Fiord, we anchored for a couple of days and were treated to a visit by a young bear.  Here he is digging for some chow with crows hoping to get some left overs.

Some other people started to approach in a dinghy, and this got the bear's attention.   They are pretty funny looking when they stand up.

Here's a another example of a water fall up close.  The colors are just amazing.

Here's Misty Fior living up to its name, rainbow and all.

Walker Cove

One stop was Coronation Island off the southern tip of Kuiu.  We were in a protected bay, but it was very windy and it was just coming from everywhere.  I have never experience such confused wind.  Here's out anchor trace for the 12 hrs or so that we were there.  You can see the boat was all over the place.

Coronation Island Anchoring

Kuiu Island is home to a LOT of otters, especially in Tebenkof Bay.  Here are three just chillin'

And here is a mom with her baby checking us out.

OK, this waterfall in Red Bluff Bay is really big, and hopefully this sequence of pictures will show it.  Below is the full water fall.   The part circled in red is the next picture.

Here we are zoomed in a bunch, but wait.  The red arrow is pointing to a red Kayak.  That's Laurie out for a paddle.

 After we got around Kuiu we stopped in Farragut bay and went to visit Farragut Farm.  They are completely isolated from everything with the only way in and out via boat, and only at high water.  And once ashore, it's still a 1/2 mile walk to get to the farm.  But despite this, they run a vibrant business selling at the Petersburg market once a week, and supplying fresh veggies to a variety of businesses and small cruise boats throughout the season.  Bo and Marja run the whole operation themselves.  We got a great tour and stocked up on veggies for the rest of our trip.

Bo from Farragut Farm

Farragut Farm

Next stop was Peterburg for the much anticipated Nordhavn Rendezvous.  It was organized by a couple of owners, and blossomed unto the largest gathering of Nordhavns ever, with over 30 boats and 100 attendees.  A good time was had by all, but we got a real curve ball the day before the event started.  Our daughter who lives in Seattle broke her leg, required surgery, and was facing 10 weeks of no driving, no carrying anything, etc..   It's amazing how much we take for granted being able to move around and do things with our hands, and equally amazing how helpless you can be without it.

So Laurie flew back to Seattle to help with everything through the surgery, and I started sorting out how to get the boat back to Seattle.  We had originally planned to keep cruising until around the 1st of August, so this cut us short a bit, but not by too much.  And besides, you need to take what life throws at you.  I'm just glad we were able to change our plans and help out.

I was able to pull together family for crew in two shifts.  First was brother-in-law Paul who flew up to Petersburg and helped get the boat down to Port McNeill in BC, Canada.  One of our stops was Prince Rupert where we checked into Canada, and also checked out the new Cowe Bay Marina.  It's good, all things considered, but Prince Rupert is a pretty exposed harbor.  We usually anchor in a cove nearby that offers better protection, but it was nice to tie up and have access to the town.  Before this new marina, there were almost no accommodations for transient boats.

Prince Rupert

Prince Rupert

We had a bunch of long days, but made good time and didn't get delayed by weather, so arrived in Port McNeill a day early giving Paul time to go on a fishing expedition.

Paul catches fish in Port McNeill

Paul and brother Dave crossed paths at the Vancouver Airport as Paul departed and Dave and significant-other Scottie joined me for the second stretch down to Seattle.  Once again we had no trouble with weather and made excellent time, arriving a day or two early, and affording Dave and Scottie some time to explore Seattle, including an obligatory visit to Bongos for Cuban food.

Brother Dave at Bongos.  "Where's my food?"

Dial forward 10 weeks, and Lindy is back on her feet, driving, rock climbing (indoors), and rapidly regaining all her strength and agility.

Winter Cruising and Spring Relocation to Ketchikan

Aside from a handful of boat projects that I'll cover later, we got in a little bit of winter cruising.  Then in April, we relocated the boat from Seattle to Ketchikan in preparation for another summer in Alaska.

Jan/Feb 2016

The rumors are true.  It rains a lot in Seattle in the winter.  But there are nice days too.  The picture below is looking across the ship canal towards Ballard just as the sun broke through the clouds on an otherwise stormy day.  This has been our home port for the past two winters.

Ballard, across ship canal in Seattle.

Sucia Island is one of our favorite spots, and in the winter we typically have it all to ourselves - except for one of the Coast Guard boats that stays here form time to time on a permanent mooring that they have.

Sucia Island

April 2016

In April we got underway to Ketchikan.  The plan was to have a leisurely cruise north, exploring more of BC than we did last year.  That turned out to be the best laid plans of mice and men.

First, we got a delayed start.  I had been seeing fluctuating gear oil pressure and thought it was a bad gauge, mostly because it had failed twice before.  But after replacing it for a third time it was still sometimes reading low and I felt we needed to get to the bottom of it before departing.  I'll write a techno-blog on it later, but the result was about a week delay in departure.

All went pretty well up through the Strait of Georgia to Campbell River, though on the last day we had 20-25kt winds and mildly heavy seas.  But the wind and waves were on our tail and the ride was actually pretty comfortable.  Not at all like pounding into it head-on.  But..... we had become a bit lax about how we were carrying one of our kayaks.  Rather than hauling it up to the boat deck and stowing it in it's rack, we had simply hauled it up on the swim platform and tied it down.  As the weather started picking up, we thought "oh crap", and I went back to make sure it was ok.  It was, so we powered on.

As we finally got into the calmer waters approaching Campbell River, we took another look and guess what?  Gone.  No more kayak.  Fortunately it didn't take any of the staples (the U-shaped railings that just sit in sockets).  Replacing one of those would have been much harder and more expensive than replacing the kayak.

I got on the radio to the coast guard to let them know we lost it and that nobody was in it.  When someone comes across an over turned boat, quite an effort ensues to figure out if it just drifted away from somewhere, of if it was manned and a search needs to be conducted.  I wanted to be sure someone finding our kayak didn't trigger a search and rescue.  The coast guard was very helpful and took our phone number in case someone found it, but we considered it a goner.

We got anchored up, and not more than an hour later I heard someone call the cost guard to report a swamped kayak.  The guy retrieved it, and took it to the fuel dock in Campbell River.  About 2 minutes later, my phone rang and it was the CG....  Very cool.  I love that there are still honest people in the world.  The next morning we back-tracked to Campbell River, stopped at the fuel dock, visited with the attendant who was a buddy of the guy who found the kayak, reloaded to kayak and properly stored it this time, left a big "thank you" gift for Nathan (the guy who recovered the Kayak), and still made it up to Seymour Narrows in time for slack water.  And that little delay led to the next bigger delay.

Seymour Narrows leads to Discovery Passage, which leads to Johnstone Strait.  Johnstone Strait is a notorious wind funnel which, coupled with an opposing tide, creates some nasty conditions.  We passed through Seymour Narrows at the tail end of the flood, so had a favorable current carrying us up Discovery Passage.  Then a change to ebb which would carry us out Johnstone.  If timed right, you can pick up 1-2 kts the whole way from Campbell River to Port McNeill and do the entire run in a day.  We had exactly such conditions but... we also had a gale warning for winds.

There are a couple of bail-out points along the run to Port McNeill, and we evaluate at each point whether to stop or proceed.  Normally a gale warning would trigger a bail-out.  Last year we had less than a gale and when the tide started to oppose it, things got ugly and we bailed out.  But this time the wind was on our tail, running with the current, not against it.  It turned out to be much like our run into Campbell River - windy and rough, but behind us and a relatively comfortable ride.  So we blasted along making an average of around 10-11 knots (we usually run at around 8).  Most of the boost was from the current, but we also ran the boat hard.  Doing that allowed us to stay with the favorable current the whole trip, where if we ran slower the current would have turned against us before we got to McNeill.

For the last hour or two of the run, the wind was really howling at 30-40 kts.  At one point I thought what a pain it would be if something went wrong under such conditions.  Little did I know how close to true that would be.

We made it into Port McNeill, and frankly struggled to get docked.  The float we were on, and the only one I would have attempted to get to anyway, was cross to the wind, of course.  I would have normally docked on the down-wind side to let the float act as a wave break (it was real rough in the harbor given the wind and its direction).  But I was pretty sure the wind was too strong to get to the dock sideways against the wind.  So we went to the up-wind side and used the thrusters to control how hard we came up alongside the dock.  Once on, we were pinned hard by the wind, and it took a while to get fenders arranged so they wouldn't keep popping out.  Then the penny dropped.

I did my post-run engine room inspection, and once again found coolant all over the back end of the engine all around the turbo, just like in Juneau last summer.  By all appearances the turbo studs had cracked again.  I'll spare you the expletives that ensued, but they were long and eloquent.  I just closed the ER door and we went ashore to get dinner.

I'll write a blog later about the repair, but it delayed us a full week.  The good news is that I'm now confident that we have the problem solved.  But the bottom line was that we had now lost 2 of our 4 weeks of cruising time, so really needed to just focus on getting to Ketchikan.

Once back underway, we still had a very enjoyable run.  Here's the view from Furry Cove with a full moon on the horizon .

Furry Cove

Throughout  BC and Alaska, water falls abound.  Some are long and narrow, some are low and wide, and some are mixtures of both.

Here's Captain Electric at the helm enjoying the scenery.

Captain Electric at the helm

This was one of the more interesting falls, looking very different from various angles and distances.

We finally arrived in Ketchikan and got the boat settled in for the month of May while we traveled home to catch up on other things, and for our son's wedding.

Juneau back to Seattle

July 28, 2015

Not a lot to report on this segment of the trip.  It was a nice, relaxed trip with some different routing than our trip up, and mostly new and different anchorages so although we were retracing out steps, it still all seemed mostly new.

People love to fish in Alaska, but we basically suck at it.  The one edible fish we got was a pity-salmon given to us by another boater who was hauling them in as we caught nothing.  At one point Laurie hooked up what seemed like a real fish, but it was not to be.  She caught a rock.  That's our Charlie Brown fishing story.  Maybe this year we will do better.

Our catch of the season - a rock

It felt like a real fish

But no complaints about the scenery.  Here are a few of the better views we enjoyed.

Northern BC Coast to Prince Rupert

June 12, 2015 Pruth Bay, Calvert Isl

We decided to cross over to the Kwakshua Channel which separates Calvert Island and Hecate Island.  At the far end of Kwakshua Channel is Pruth Bay, home of the Hakai Research Institute.  The facility seems very out of place with excellent docks, piped in diesel and gas for their fleet of boats (also all in excellent condition), a heli pad with helicopter waiting at the ready, 50KW of solar power, internet via satellite (the first internet we encountered since Port McNeill), brand new dorm buildings, research buildings, boardwalks through the woods to a spectacular beach on the ocean side, etc.  This place was better outfitted than any private or government facility that I’ve seen in a long time.  It seemed like the bad-guy’s secret lair in a James Bond movie.  But it’s all very innocent and well meaning.  A guy who made a ton of money is medical imaging systems and has set up and funded the place.    See Tula.org  Anyone working there is quite fortunate to be so well sponsored.

June 13, 2015 Ocean Falls

Next we headed way inland, up Fishers Channel, then up Cousins Inlet to Ocean Falls.  Ocean Falls is quite the trip, and seems like stepping into a post apocalyptic movie set.  This was a thriving town up through the early 70s with a cannery, paper mill, a couple of hotels, large dormitories to house workers, and all the infrastructure of such a town.  There is a large lake above it with a dam and hydro power plant.  What was once a 5000 person community is now home to 25 people, and they seem to have the pick of which ever house they want to live in.  A few buildings are clearly lived in and nicely kept.  Others appear intact but are over grown with weeds and trees,  and whole blocks of apparently poorly build homes are slowly melting into the ground.  Two, perhaps three hotels stand vacant, one of which was never occupied.

Welcome Center, Ocean Falls, BC

Abandoned homes in Ocean Falls

The whole town, practically abandoned

Today, the hydro plant just keeps on running and provides all the local power, plus power for the two closest communities, Bella Bella and Shearwater.  There are a couple of private docks, and one open to visitors.  Down on the dock is the welcome center building where you can check your email and read about the history of Ocean Falls.

For us, the coolest part about Ocean Falls was that we saw our first pair of orcas, and two enormous schools of dolphins.  As we were working our way up Cousins inlet, way off in the distance we could see what looked like a large breaking boat wake coming towards us.  But as we got closer we could see what it really was – a line of dolphins spanning pretty much the entire width of the inlet working their way south.  Our first thought when we saw this splashing line was that they were herding fish in preparation for a feast.  And that might still be the case, but we later discovered there might be more going on.

Not too far behind the second line of dolphins were two orcas.  And not too far from us they caught something pretty big for dinner.  It then occurred to us that the orcas were likely hunting the dolphins, and a guy in town later confirmed that’s what they do.  So perhaps the line formation is a defense?  Big fish like it when little fish school together because you can eat in one big gulp.  Perhaps the dolphins intentionally spread out to make it harder for the orcas to pick a target, and to limit the scope of damage when they do.  It’s fascinating stuff that I know nothing about.

Waterfront condos south of Ocean Falls

June 14, 2015 Tom Bay (anchor dragging), Salmon Bay (too deep), Rescue Bay

The next day we were up, down and around all sorts of islands, mostly working our way west in the end.  We had identified three possible stopping places for the night, the first of which was Tom Bay.  It was a really nice location with reasonably shallow depths of 60’ or so, but after putting out the anchor we were clearly dragging.  In retrospect, we should have tried again, but instead moved on to the next spot, Salmon Bay.

Salmon bay was also a wonderful setting, but we knew anchoring would be harder since it’s quite deep (150’+) and comes up very steeply at the head of the cove.  When we got in there and got as close to shore as we were comfortable, there was just too much depth.  So off we went to our third choice, Rescue Bay.

We could see ahead of time on AIS that there were at least two other large boats already in Rescue Bay, so I was a bit worried about finding space.  Given the depths we were going to need 200-250’ of swing.  On arrival, we found ourselves to be the 4^th or 5^th boat in, but there was enough room and we were able to get solidly anchored for the night.

One treat in Rescue Bay was a pair of Red Throated Loons.  They made for a nice end to an otherwise stressful day.

June 15, 2015 Bottleneck Cove

The next day was a shorter run over to and up the Finlayson Channel to Bottleneck Cove.  As its name implies, the entrance to the cover is a narrow passage that subsequently opens up into a long, but relatively narrow cove.  The whole thing is shaped like a wine bottle.  Anchoring was in 40 feet or so of water which is a good thing because the cove is pretty narrow and when we swung towards the shore line we were about as close as I’d like to be.  Yet another lovely spot that more than made up for our anchorage search the day before.

Light station

June 16, 2015 Coghlan Anchorage, Promise Isl

The next day was once again about getting positioned for a long trip with tide and current consideration.  Goghlan Anchorage is just inside Promise Island and right around the corner from the entrance to Grenville Channel.  The trip was uneventful, but anchoring was a bit of a trick.  The guide books and charts said the bottom was gravel which is usually excellent for anchoring.  But once we got the anchor down it felt and sounded like solid ledge.  It’s amazing what you feel and hear transmitted up the anchor chain, and you could clearly hear the anchor scraping across rock ledge.  We finally got settled, but as I monitored more closely I could see that we were very slowly dragging.  That’s not a formula for a good night’s sleep, so I hauled the anchor, moved a little ways, and tried again.  This time it dragged a bit then caught hard.  We were set for the night.

June 17, 2015 Grenville Channel, Stop at Lowe Inlet, Verney Falls, Prince Rupert

The Grenville Channel is a 50nm cut from Wright Sound through to Chatham Sound where Prince Rupert it located.  The current through it this time of year isn’t huge, but runs 2kts or so and can make the difference between a long day and a very long day, so timing maters.  Like the discovery Passage, Grenville floods from both ends and ebbs out both ends with the transition point more or less in the middle.  Also, about ¼ of the way through is Lowe Inlet, at the head of which is Verney Falls.  Apparently Verney Falls is a huge collecting spot for bears during the salmon runs, but we are too early for that.

Grenville Channel

Our plan was to depart early catching the flood for the first part of the trip.  We figured we’d stop into Lowe Inlet to see the falls, then decide whether to stay there for the night or continue on.  Lowe Inlet and the falls were very nice and I can see how it would be food-heaven for bears when the salmon are running, but there was nothing but water on our stop so we decided to continue on to Prince Rupert.  We made great time up the channel and only had neutral or unfavorable current for perhaps an hour out of the whole trip.  Then the ebb took us out the rest of the way into Chatham Sound.  A few more miles and we were entering Prince Rupert harbour which is quite the operation. It is quite the commercial port.  A large rail terminal right at the docks that can take freight anywhere in Canada or the US.   There were 3-4 freighters being loaded or unloaded, and 3 or 4 more anchored in the harbour.  Then another 2 anchored further off shore, presumably waiting to get in.  We didn’t go to any of the town docks, but rather anchored in a cove across the way.

Entering Prince Rupert, BC

Northern BC Coast and Deep Anchoring

June 10, 2015

The next major segment of our trip was the BC coast from the end of Vancouver Island up to Prince Rupert near the US Alaskan Boarder.  This stretch is another 250nm that fronts the Queen Charlotte Sound and the Hecate Straight.  Queen Charlotte Sound is open to the ocean, and although Hecate Straight is somewhat shielded by the Queen Charlotte Islands, it is still a very open segment of water and subject to some nasty conditions.  The good news is that the coast is actually a collection of islands, inlets, and passages that allow for an almost entirely inland and protected voyage.  And to boot, it includes some beautiful destinations.

Our first stop out of Port McNeill was Allison Harbour which is just barely past the end of Vancouver Island and not really even into Queen Charlotte Sound.  But it positioned us well to make an early AM rounding of Cape Caution, which as the name suggests can be a rough area.  Allison Harbour also made for an easy first day and was a spectacular, long channel with great anchoring up at the end.

Allison Harbour

June 11, 2015

Time for our first exposure to open ocean and to round Cape Caution.  Now bear in mind that last fall we came the whole 1200nm up the west coast of the US out in the open ocean, but all things are relative and calm water is always preferable to rough.

It’s probably worth a brief side note on the daily weather pattern in this area.  Mornings tend to be very calm, and around noon the wind picks up.  To whatever extend it’s going to blow, it does so over the afternoon.  Often times from 3-6pm it blows the most, but then it settles right down and the nights are typically dead calm.  In general we have fallen into a pattern of getting going early in the AM and traveling while it’s calmest with a goal of reaching our destination early afternoon.

The trip around Cape Caution was completely uneventful, and we approached Penrose Island in the late morning.  Our destination for the evening was Big Fry Pan, a secluded anchorage shaped as its name suggests.  You enter through a very narrow channel where you can practically touch the overhanging trees, then turn the corner and find yourself in a beautiful enclosed cove.  Once inside, it’s hard to spot the exit and seems like you are in an enclosed pond.

Anchoring:

One good thing about this area with respect to navigation is that it’s deep.  The entrance channel to Fry Pan, though narrow, was plenty deep.  One bad thing about this area with respect to anchoring is that it’s deep.  Fry Pan is about 80’ deep, so a 3:1 scope is about 250’ of chain, and 5:1 is 400’ which is all I’ve got.  Putting out that much chain takes some time.

We use the windlass both to deploy and retrieve the anchor, and it runs at about 50’/min.  So paying out 250’ is a 5 minute operation.   It can take about 2 minutes before the anchor even reaches the bottom, which is a critical time because that’s when I need to remember to set the anchor alarms.  The alarms create a boundary circle centered on the anchor, and your boat should never venture outside the circle.  If it does, the alarms go off.

Another complication that arises from deep anchoring is that your swing space increases.  A simplistic formula is that your swing radius is the amount of chain that you have out.  It’s a simplified formula for two reasons.

First, your rode doesn’t stretch horizontally from the anchor to your boat.  It descends down at an angle towards the anchor on the sea bottom.  If you draw out a triangle depicting your horizontal distance from the anchor, depth to the anchor, and the rode as the hypotenuse, you can see how it works.  The swing radius, assuming the rode is pulled perfectly tight and straight, is the length of the rode times the cosine of the angle.  If I can remember my trigonometry correctly, which is not at all a certainty, it works out that the swing radius is 95% or more of the rode length for scopes of 3:1 and higher.  So, for all intents and purposes, the same as the rode length, making this simplification pretty darn accurate.

The second simplification is that the boat’s swing radius actually includes the length of the boat, not just the length of the rode.  For a 65’ boat with 200’ of chain out, that’s a significant difference and one that really needs to be taken into consideration.  So, the preferred simplification is to assume that your swing radius is the length of your rode plus the length of your boat.  So in our case, I would consider 200’ of chain to give us a 265’ swing radius.

You might be wondering why I’m going on about this now.  Well, it’s because many of these charming anchorages are small, so we really need to consider our required swing space.  And often times the areas that are shallow enough to anchor are also too close to shore or shallow water once you consider your swing space.  And then of course there is the tide.  50’ of water depth at low tide can be 70’ at high tide, and you need to figure your scope based on high tide, not low.  Yet you need to be sure you don’t swing too close to shallow water when you have low tide and the shallows are closest to you.

Oh, and there is one more challenge that is exacerbated when you have deep water and restricted swing room.  The location where you set the anchor becomes more and more important, and when you are waiting for 100’ of chain to pay out before the anchor touches bottom, you need to be sure you haven’t drifted off your intended location.  I’ve started to pre-deploy the anchor when in a deep location, positioning it 20’ or so above the bottom while I slowly position the boat where I want the anchor set.   Then when I start lowering it again, I only need to hold position for 30 seconds or so before the anchor is on the bottom.  Then it’s a matter of slowly drifting/powering down wind in an attempt to lay the chain out rather than dumping it in a big pile.  Then, once you have the desired amount of chain laid out, gently back down on it to set the anchor to ensure it’s dug into the bottom.  This is the moment of truth where you find out if you picked a good spot and the anchor digs in, or if you are on rock ledge and the anchor just skips across it and you need to go through the whole process again.

The temptation is to try setting the anchor with as little chain out as possible.  It can take 5 minutes to get the required length paid out, and if the anchor doesn’t set, you just need to winch it all back in again and try somewhere else.  But if you jump the gun and try to set with too little scope, the pull angle of the chain is more up than horizontal, and it tends to prevent the anchor from setting rather than encourage it.  I’ve learned this the hard way.

So far our experience is that a 3:1 scope appears to work fine in deep water as long as you can get a good bite on the bottom.  With 300’ of chain in 100’ depth, there is a significant amount of weight just in the chain itself…  around 750lbs.   As the boat pulls away from the anchor, it’s lifting more and more of that chain off the bottom, and that weight is pulling the boat back towards the anchor.  That weight and the parabolic shape that the chain takes on serves two key purposes.  First, as tension increases, more of the chain lifts off the bottom.  But the part closest to the anchor is the last to lift.  This ensures that the direction of pull at the anchor is horizontal in all but the most extreme conditions, and that’s the angle where the anchor has the most holding power.   Second, the weight of the chain cushions the force on both the boat and the anchor.  The more the chain lifts, the harder gravity pulls back, creating a spring-like action.