Rebecca Spit, BC, 21-AUG-2024 – We’ve run hell-bent-for-leather to get south and now that we’re here we have two weeks to get a week’s distance. We’ll relax a bit on the pace, and then get there a few days early – we hope. The weather next week looks wonderful.
This week and weekend are odd to us. There have been big storms in Anacortes and Port Townsend, which means we would stay away from a crossing, but nothing is happening up here. No matter. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. The extra few days can be used waiting for weather, if need be.
We traveled 50 nautical miles from Port Harvey, BC to Nutcracker Cove crossing two areas of fast water in Johnstone Strait. We took each headed in our direction both apparently at full flow, though one purported to be just starting when we arrived. The direction markers on the chart did not mark the flow position, which was a few miles further on. Each had huge upwellings and very large back eddies.
The first fast water was flowing against us when we started and supposedly the south side of the strait was the place to be, but as we entered we saw, on AIS, that vessels were on the opposite sides. We followed suit and for much of the time traveled as if we were in still water and occasionally with as much a 1.8 knots pushing us.
When we crossed over the strait to take the right fork to continue on Johnstone Strait we started to feel the current switch but not much speed despite the warning of a huge 5-knot flow. As we continued on, the flow started hitting over 4 knots in our direction. The back eddie going the other way was very defined, yet when we ventured too far from shore there were whirlpools and upwellings, which did not slow us much.
When we started, we followed a vessel called Sequel, who seemed to know the way. Eventually, Sequel took a left when we went right. We continued on our way and were slowly caught by Midcentury Star, who clearly knew the path through the boils and eddies. We hooked on to his star and followed until he disappeared from sight. By now we, we approaching Discovery Pass, which had a very large flow at a right angle that threatened to set us on the shore. A sailboat that had been sitting in a cove came out and instinctively picked a course through the boiling water. He was a great distance ahead of us, but filled the space between us and MidCentury Star, who was effectively out of sight.
As I watched, the sailboat crossed the pass and turned right on the outside of the curve. It looked like a great idea and confirmed what I had planned. We did okay following this plan generally keeping from being set to the right and staying out of back eddies going the wrong way.
As we continued, we could see the sailboat wasn’t moving much and he had changed direction. He had gone close to shore and out of the stream. He then came back into the stream, gained speed, then turned around and headed back to the shore.
What was he doing? Jennifer saw he was alone with two little girls in the cockpit. Could he have been a weekend Dad and not much of a sailor. Had he, perhaps, gone into the flow initially, without understanding how fast it was moving, negotiated his way over here and now was frightened and planned to wait for the flow to subside? We’ll never know.
As were we passing by at 9 knots a fishing boat came through the rapids without worrying about the set and continued on. He cruised at around 14 knots and did not seem to be affected. Should I have done that? The fishing boat has a very large wheel (propeller) and a lot of torque to use if things go wrong. I’m satisfied with my decision.
On our way to Nutcracker Cove, Jennifer and I discussed our previous visits, once with Erwin and Laura, the first year we came up. Nutcracker was the farthest north we came. In 2015, I think. We had anchored alone each time.
On the shore was an abandoned fishing boat, it was still there this year.
We first saw Midcentury Star in Mill Brook Cove two days before. It is another quiet cove where Jennifer and I used to anchor alone. There is also a very cool cabin with a tilted roof directly across as you enter. This time there were three boats as we entered. A dark green cabin cruiser called to us, then pulled anchor and left. We took his spot.
Across from us on the far side from the cabin was Midcentury Star. The cove filled that night with seven boats, including a 36-foot sailboat, Reepicheep, with two young women crew – something that was rare and we are seeing more of this year.
Two or three nights later, we were entering Port Harvey and passed Midcentury Star again in a small hollow in the side of the harbor. Port Harvey has become a small industrial port with ship rails at the end of the harbor and various tank trucks labeled Beer and Vodka to service the fish farms in the area.
When we left the next morning, the evening we anchored in Nutcracker, everything was fogged in. We used charts, radar, and a foghorn to leave the harbor.
By the time we arrived at Nutcracker, Midcentury Star was anchored. The man on board was hanging out behind his cabin. I waved as we dropped anchor; he waved back.
As we settled in, he got into his RIB and rowed towards us. Jennifer came into the cockpit as we welcomed him. He told us we were following him; we laughed. Jennifer said it was just because he went faster than we did.
We introduced ourselves, his name was Earnest. I talked about how well he knew the currents and how we had followed him. He said, ‘‘Well, we come up here a lot.’’ We talked about Port Harvey and had he heard the fog horn. He was a little confused about that. Yes, he’d heard the horn, but figured it was a water taxi coming to pick someone up.
Hmm, I need to give that some thought.
Jennifer spoke a bit about Mill Brook Cove and Earnest told us he owned one side of the cove. The side with the cabin? Jennifer asked. Yes, they built that cabin. Earnest was in his seventies, maybe a bit older. He bought the land seventeen years ago from the man who logged the land. ‘‘It was a mess and he didn’t want it anymore. It’s recovered quite well over the years.’’
They originally had a cold-molded Lyle Hess-designed sailboat that Earnest built to go bluewater sailing in, but it didn’t carry much in the way of materials, so he bought this boat. I asked if he got it for free, or cheap as part of the Canadian government program when they dispersed the fisheries. He looked at me, squinty-eyed, and said, there isn’t such a thing as free or cheap. Jennifer recounted the myth of the $1000 sailboat. He relaxed.
His boat is the same style as the boat on the beach and Terry Etapa’s old boat. I mentioned them both. Earnest said the boat on the beach doesn’t get wet often because it is so high. I told him Terry had just sold his and bought a new Ranger Tug. Earnest replied Terry must have money.
Both, he and Terry, had spent a decade rebuilding and refurbishing their ex-fishing boat. Both turned out very well.
They are two rapids that must be traversed to get south from Nutcracker if you don’t want to go through Seymour Narrows, which we don’t like to do heading south. Jennifer asked for his advice. (She’s done this twice before, so she knows what she is doing but always asks for advice.)
Earnest said they do it in the same tide cycle arriving early for the first and late for the second. Bumpy each time. Jennifer said we’d follow him and then spent the night in terror of what might happen. I called Midcentury the next morning and said we wouldn’t be doing the two rapids in one tide. They said thanks for letting them know.
They left Nutcracker four or five minutes after us and went through the rapids ten minutes before us. We would never have made it. Instead, after the first rapids, we took a cut into Octopus Island Marine Park, dropped an anchor, spent six hours until the next tide, and then went through the lower rapids. A piece of cake.
I doubt we’ll run into Earnest again. I wonder what he did for a living.
