Leaving Herring Bay for an 80 mile-run on the longest day of the year

Saturday, June 21, 2008: Herring Bay, Ruxton Island, Northern Gulf Islands to Campbell River


View from Herring Bay on Ruxton Island

4:00 AM alarm!

"How do you feel?"

"OK."

"Let’s go then and make it a long day." Russ said.

Haul anchor before dawn. 310-degrees to slowly exit Herring Bay with submerged reefs to port. Halo around the full moon waning, flashing light off Yellow Point. Head for Dodd Narrows to get there at slack tide.

Turn two notches to starboard!! A massive log floats in the cold silence of grey waters. The light to starboard at Dodd Narrows blinks on and off—inviting—slack tide. Pass through! Sleepy blue- and red-roofed houses—one on stilts, another tucked high in the fir trees bring a calm to the now green-black waters. There is no colour this dawn. An ebb awaits us on the other side. Got to make it to Campbell River by sunset on this longest day of the year. A journey awaits.

Now pass through the narrows. Houses carved into the rock faces—high up. Gnarled Madronas, bent like old men. Sentinels for vessels passing. The morning song of birds. Another day begins.

The bright lights of Nanaimo still on from last night—against a silken grey light greets us: shipyards, mountains of saw dust—pungent, cranes, a brightly lit ferry. Listen to the radio. The coast guard reports a boat with 20 passengers is taking on water.

Dodge the logs. Keep us on course! Straight ahead! A veritable slack water borderline of kelp and logs. Careful going through. Change course for the westside of the Straits of Georgia. A light breeze caresses Zulu. At last a window of colour sheds a pale orange sheen on the waters of this grey day. Time to go back to sleep—while Russ sips coffee on watch.

Snowcapped peaks on Vancouver—Mt. Moriarty—a backdrop to French Creek Harbour. The only protected harbour for the next 25 miles before Deep Bay. Houses strung affluently along the taupe beach face Texado Island. This time we’ll leave Desolation Sound unvisited to the East. Sunlight on the snow ridges of Vancouver Island beckons us north.

"See that point there? Make for it." Russ said as he went below with the autopilot set. So I write and read and take photographs. Eyes glued to the affluent homes on shore.

"Holy Shit!!" Russ says as he barrels out into the cockpit, turns off the autopilot, and rams the wheel hard over. The depth sounder says 12 ft!!!

"You have GOT to watch stuff inbetween reaching distant points!! Watch the depth sounder!!!"

Humbly I shut the camera lens off and mull in the lowland of reprimand for 5 seconds. So much for my course in Advanced Navigation! Remember current and drift? Beware! Take care! Be vigilant! I remind myself.

I refresh my position plotting exercise. Am corrected by the captain. Try again. "Can you show me how?"

Animated, impatient, wired up like a grasshopper gone wrong, the captain is a rotten teacher! Buggar him. I’ll teach myself. Got it!! "Can you check my plots?" "Did you check them?"

"Yes," he says. "They’re right on." Thank you, master of ill temper, I mutter in my thoughts. The longest day of the year will pass.