Will the engine start, in this wilderness? I've gotten over that one. Lately, it always does, who knows why, is it new gas? I boat out into the dismal grey, calm in the anchorage but immediately wavey outside. OK i can handle this, so far. But it's raining, and very soon, i can't see anything. Continuing, an island looms, and i know which one it is because that's the direction i was in, and i've pre-designated a cove on this island as 1 i can bail to if there's trouble. So i follow the coast close along, and there's the cove and thank goodness it isnt wavey, it's 'protected'. I anchor temp and wait for the fog to lift.
And in a short time it ~does, all is still grey/ominous/depressing, but i can see the mainland. Off i go. The sea is big but within reason. After awhile you're used to it ands what was frightening now is just dread. What will happen next? Dad advised: just stay close to land. But the text i read while i sailed Baja, 'Heavy Weather Sailing', advised, "The greatest risk to a ship at sea is not the Sea, it is The Land."
It was something i remembered there, Baja, when, sailing along ~far offshore, i looked back to see what clearly was a fog bank approaching. The guidebook had advised~ dont worry about fog in The Gulf of California, it doesnt happen. And here it was coming. I headed immediately top-speed toward shore, and i almost made it, except all that was there were numerous random rocks, and a sea ~boiling like i'd never seen, what was going on? So remembering what i'd read, i turned and headed away from the land. I reefed the sails because i didnt know what was coming, and... opened, consumed, a can of beans. It seemed, and was, a good idea.
Then the storm, it hit, but oddly it wasnt really a big deal. I wasnt trying to go anywhere, i was just holding my place, the boat angled into the waves, the reefed sails just kinda edging me along, no hurry. Then it was dark, and then the wind died, and i thot, well, i'm out here, lets make some progress toward the northerly goal, follow the compass and the stars, nothing else to do, but with little wind now, it was frustrating, so finally i just went to bed and the boat laid, as they want to do, sideways to the residual sea waves, rocking. When i awoke AM, all was fog. Gradually, distant peaks appeared, i triangulated a position, laid a course.
So often to avoid charted rocks, some sometimes invisible below surface, i must head straight out to sea, toward Japan or someplace, it seems the most unnatural thing. The Guidebook says: the Sea "heaps up", stay at least a mile offshore rounding Cape Caution. I imagine swimming it.
And then finally i'm around in the grey dismal haze, it seems to be working.
Now into the Queen Charlotte Channel (wow everything in Canada seems named after English monarchy, ick, do they mind?) it changes, the sea that smooth surreal pulsating slick oily look, grey but glowing yellow, the oddest thing, low long-period waves following, they're barely apparent, but as i climb the ascending face the speed reduces to 12, then tho i dont even see them, slowly it speeds to 21, OMG, as i surf down the inapparent reverse slope, i lose my nerve, reduce the throttle, but it's insensitive, i cant make it gradual, so due to engine torque or who-knows i lurch sideways, inducing exactly the ~broach i was intending to avoid. And it happens over&over. Nothing~serious, i am so lucky, relatively benign but nerve-wracking, always on the edge of... ~something.
Finally thru a narrow passage, the sea waves are gone. Perfect. Speed on.
I txt Cathy i'll head to Echo Bay, a resort, their website boisterous, i imagine party, food, beer, &, o, essential gas. She replies: are they even open? But there's no other choice now, i'm already past the turn off to the inlet to the alt.
Echo Bay: thank good they do have fuel. But nothing else, til 6/29 when their season starts. I'm clearly not attuned to 'the Season' in this region, but that's a good thing: no crowds.
Off thru a fjord passage, narrow, serene, no one there.
Now out to cross Knight Inlet, it's insane, big waves, each splays a splash from the bow which the wind blows back across the windshield. OK, i only have to cross it, not far, i can handle this, but i see a big trawler followed by little ones, like a mother hen and chicks, o my the chicks, probably C-Dory 22s, a popular mini-trawler, are smaller even than i! Poor bastards, in this! For the very first time, i feel, comftably, Big.
The group takes a side-channel, i continue on, check an anchorage but contrary to the Guidebook it's now occupied by some commercial fishing/whatever warehouse/repair-shed + dock/etc. Try another: same. Somehow this seems wrong, but, what, should the coves be reserved for itinerant cruisers? No.
Finally i try another long inlet, again all industrialized, fishing, logging, multi-story float-housing. I could park next to 1 big cruiser there in the Guidebook-designated anchorage space. But what if i dragged (yes, as usual)? It would be embarrassing. So i find an undesignated corner, next to an added rusty oyster rack, i think. Stern anchors, 2, poor rock bottom i think, judging by shoreline, yet it holds for, after an eve of ~severe wind, a quiet nite.
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