We’re a month and a day into our voyage – a month and a day full of both the longest and slowest moments. After a rough first two weeks in the San Juan Islands, we crossed the Canadian border and settled ourselves into Port Sidney Marina so Tom could head back to Anacortes to work for a week. The rest did us all some good. Tom helped fill the cruising kitty, and the boys and I explored Sidney, visiting every museum, playground, pool, and store we could by foot or by bus. By the time we untied the docklines in Sidney, we were refreshed, ready to re-engage, and looking forward to heading “into the wilderness” so we could live up to our name. This short video is snapshot of those first few amazing but trying weeks. We were happy to leave the beginning behind.
Trawling our first fishing lines under low, gray, Pacific Northwest clouds, we joyfully tilted our faces toward the cooling drizzle and the next – more hopeful – phase of our voyage. It didn’t matter that nothing caught the ends of our hooks. The boys loved the new activity, and it ensured that we slowed down to less than 4 knots and simply enjoy the short passage between the towering hills on either side. We headed up to Saltspring Island and stayed for a night at a friend’s mooring buoy. Casting our eyes out over the channel and watching the tugboats and fishing boats traverse the gray water, we enjoyed good company, pool time, and cooler weather.
After a stroll in the Ganges Saturday market for me and a dinghy ride for the boys to see seals and totem poles, we took the good fortune of a simultaneous southeast breeze and flood tide to sail up the Strait of Georgia to Lasqueti Island. There in Boho Bay we sat out a rough, windy few days by catching crab, baking, peering over the edge of Tinker, exploring oyster beaches, catching dead jellyfish in shovels, and playing in Jedadiah Island provincial park. We were cut off from all communication, and welcomed the slow down that the weather and remoteness dictated.
We’re now in Pender Harbour, BC for a somewhat unscheduled stop to repair a fairly spectacular alternator failure. But after a few drives to the hardware store – offered up by the kindness of strangers (thank you Ron from Farrington Cove and Robin from Duncan Cove!) – and a long morning and afternoon in the bilge for Tom replacing the alternator, its bolt, and its belt, we are back up and running. I have done two loads of laundry, taken the kids swimming twice, and taken advantage of the wifi and cell phone signal to make some calls and upload our video, while the kids busied themselves with swimming, playing, spotting snakes in the rocks, and probably loudly disturbing everyone in (the absolutely wonderful) Pender Harbour Resort in Duncan Cove.
Next stop: Desolation Sound. I’m eagerly re-reading M. Wylie Blanchet’s classic book “The Curve of Time” in preparation for the trip and enjoying the connections she makes between her family’s own journeys, experiences, and anchorages with those of Captain Vancouver, whose boats explored up and down these shores and inlets with no expert charts or books to guide them. These are not easy waters, and the local knowledge and advice from those who have gone before – and the help from those who are here now – is essential. May we be able to pay it forward.
So, we find ourselves settling in a little more comfortably now. And we may not be experts yet, but we’re slowly but surely figuring boat life out.
This was great to read! You aren’t going to believe it, but I was actually thinking of you today when my sister mentioned Russell, NZ to me. Thought of all I said I would get to you…
Please keep the photos and stories coming. It’s fun to travel along!
How funny, Amy! Though I am very much rooted in the moment up here in BC right now, I love imagining what those anchorages on the other side of world will look like. In fact, I’m more curious about New Zealand than some other places, because I can’t help but imagine it being so similar to some places up here.
Thanks for sharing the journey. You all are frequently in my thoughts and it’s great to see where you are. Safe passage for this next leg of the journey.
Thanks, Lynn! The further north we get, the more remote and and difficult things will get, including timing our tides, currents, and weather right to stay as safe as possible. Thank you for the safe passage wishes. They will be needed as we venture on this next leg over the top of Vancouver Island.
This is such an undertaking! I feel so blessed to make this journey vicariously with you and your precious family. I’m getting a kick out of the kitty, who, it seems, has made the most seamless adjustment to life on the ocean. The YouTube video is an heirloom in the making.
Steady sailing!
Thanks, Vicki. Indeed it is the cat who seems to take everything in stride. She is, however, as upset about the hot temperatures as we are right now. I look forward to working on the next video. Am working on collecting some footage. They’re time consuming to make, but so much fun, and they will absolutely be an heirloom.
What a beautiful exciting adventure! 😊
Thanks, James and Michelle!
Looks like you’re having an amazing time, Sandi! Thanks for sharing that wonderful video.
Thanks, Tracy. Yes, we’re having a good time. There are a lot of not so easy parts, but I would say that we are definitely enjoying the adventure!
Loved the video!
Can you add a map to the blog that charts your journey??
Thanks, Mari. I just added a page called “The Route” which now has a map that shows where we were for the first three weeks. I’ll improve on that as we go along and as I figure out better technology!
This is Paula from James island on the 45 Bayliner Sophia. I want to say I am so enjoying your writing and the transparency of your trip. We were the couple who sailed from Sf to New York via the canal many years ago but I do recall the struggles to find a new rhythm and it took a while – so many changes and a totally different way of life and we didn’t have young children with us. So I am writing to commend you for your adventurous spirit. No matter how far you get (your path may not be the one you originally set out) it will be perfect. Everything that happens is part of the journey and learning lifetime skills that will serve all of you well now and later. I will continue to keep up with your voyage and wish you all the best. We have been to all the places you have so far visited and it is such fun to see them through your eyes and the eyes of the children!
Thanks, Paula. It is indeed an adventure, and we are trying to be flexible, recognizing that original plans may change. For example, we’ve realized we’re going to have to skip the Broughtons in order to get around Cape Scott at a reasonable time. And today – in this crazy heat – we were imagining continuing north to Alaska instead of heading south to Mexico. That won’t happen, but we recognize the beauty of changing plans based on life and what we’re learning about the boat and ourselves. Thanks for following!