August 12, 2008
Effingham Bay
We chose Effingham Bay from all the anchorages available in Upper Barkley Sound for it’s most redeeming and what had become the most important factor: the ability to walk on shore. Similar to Ahousat, there was a rough cut trail through to the beach on the other side from the anchorage. Like Ahousat, the trail was peat-y, but not as long or rough. Branches and roots reached out to trip us, overhead downed trees were placed at a calculated height conspiring to render us unconscious, konking us in the head as we walked with our baseball caps obstructing our view. This trail was well marked with a variety of non traditional hanging objects, likely to illicit comment. Some were creative--a bright red dust pan that spun in the breeze, complete with the name of the boat it was off of, while others looked trashy--a clear plastic water bottle. Some hikers tried to turn the seaside flotsam into sculptures, like this cooler sized piece of Styrofoam (see photo).
On the beach side of Effingham Island is an area which sits just back from the shore that is unique to all the islands that we have been to--it is flat! Not surprisingly it is the site of an ancient Indian village. Between the shore and the encampment is a long low mound, perhaps 50 yards long. Others had dug down through the moss and ground cover, exposing bits of shell pieces, the remains of an enormous midden.
Ken found in a rather unpleasant way a plant that we have not seen anywhere else in these islands, and likely not native. There was a veritable garden of stinging nettle, which he inadvertently touched, and suffered the burning pain that nettle causes on contact. Ken’s comment was that as the last natives were leaving, forced out by European settlers, they probably scattered nettle seed as a statement regarding their expatriation.
A special geologic feature awaited us on the other side of the island--a sea cave. Though the tide was coming in, we were able to scramble over rocks to jump onto the sand floor of the cathedral cave entrance, replete with hanging fern gardens. The opening quickly narrowed to a stooped crack. There was a side cave also, which we flashed with the camera to see that it climbed sharply, requiring climbing equipment along with spelunking skills. I wondered if we penetrated these narrow entrances if we would have found the remains of ancient natives, who used to use caves to bury their dead.
Mail Stop Ucluelet
I had called Ucluelet months ago as we were preparing to come north, to find out if they had a Customs office. Little did I know that it would be our last stop in Canada, not our first as we had planned. (Planning is like that.) Plan and then be prepared to change it! That’s what we were forced to do back in June, coming about, away from the strong winds that forced us to retreat and put the breeze on our stern, as we had attempted to come north on the outside. Just like with a woman, best to do what the boat wants, and sail down wind.
I had created an image of what Ucluelet must be like when I called there from home in Oregon. But of course it looked nothing like that. It was very much like Tofino, but with a more bell shaped curve to the population than the left shifted hump of Tofino. Plus it had the best grocery store since Nanaimo, a real treat for those of us who had little of our customary fresh vegetables and summer fruits for the past month and a half.
The advantage of remote outposts over the small towns on Vancouver Island is that the internet is free--plug in and log on. But in Ucluelet, the only free internet was at the Resource Center, a former woman’s assistance non-profit. We did go there, and had free coffee and --get this-chow mien noodles and peanut butter cookies--but they were only open a few hours a day. So Ken paid $10 for 24 hours of internet use, and sat in his ‘office‘, the lawn in front of the Island Princess steam ship resort.
‘.
Our little dinghy was trapped behind a trolling vessel that had backed in right next to us to unload it‘s catch. The captain beseeched us to wait the 30 minutes it would take to unload, because the fish was frozen. So we waited, and I watched, and photographed as he dropped frozen tuna on to the deck, hitting with a high pitched thud. “Those fish look frozen solid”, I said to him, “How cold is your freezer?”
“Cold enough to freeze Vodka”, he said.
“Well that begs the question what’s the freezing point of Vodka?” I think he thought the mention of frozen vodka should be enough, but he said “The thermometer says minus 41 degrees.” I thought to myself ’is that Celsius or Fahrenheit?’ but left well enough alone.
His crew was his son and daughter, a couple of wholesome and considerate not to mention hard working teenagers--see photo of her. They live outside of Nanaimo, and were taking these fish home to sell at a local market. The daughter was quick to tell me that they had a license to do so commercially, as the government is very strict about such things. Maybe they thought I was a government observer disguised as an American sailor…….
RIki’s coming’ I said to myself on our second morning anchored in front of Ucluelet. Somehow I knew that our friends Clark and Nina were headed our way. And as we returned from town to the dock, there was their tender Dazee.
We were planning to make our first overnight passage since coming up from Washington the next morning, to head back to the US. As we were making preparations to do so, Clark dazed over in Dazee and invited us over to play a card game that starts with an F (and sounds remarkably like a swear word) and share some dessert. So after we took the dinghy apart (it comes in two pieces) Clark in his water taxi came over and took us to their trimaran RikiTikiTavi. He had prepared a delicious blueberry custard with cream cheese which we thoroughly enjoyed sharing with them. We never played the F game though (get your minds out of the gutter!) and Clark and Nina if you read this, and we see you in Mexico some day, you owe us a hand of Farkle-or whatever!
Passage to America
I am a wiser passage maker, having frozen and puked my way up to and over the top of Vancouver Island. So in the interest of all you future sailors, some of whom may chose to join us on those choice aspects of the sailing experience, here is a list of preparations to make your journey a most pleasant experience:
(Men’s Group Men, take heed!)
-Purchase and take Gravol, a kinder and gentler Canadian version of Dramamine, which, for me anyway, completely prevents seasickness, if taken at appropriate intervals, with minimal side effects.
-Prepare and have available at all times hot soup of your choice and hot tea. Have plenty of snack food handy. We don’t have much of an appetite, but eat cookies, hard candy, jerky, celery, sandwiches, carrots, dried fruit and along with tea and soup, plenty of water.
-Sleep well the night before, and don’t eat anything really heavy or greasy, like salami or bratwurst sandwiches.
-The morning of the passage, say a prayer to Neptune on bended knees in the cockpit for fair winds from the stern at 25 knots max, and a gentle current from the same direction as the wind.
-Wear the warmest gear you have no matter whether you think you need it or not. The morning we left it was 60 degrees, as always, and still I needed all my sweaters, down vests, boots and off shore foul weather gear. (See Blog entry for Cape Scott, July 22nd, for a complete listing of off shore clothing)
-Anything you may need on the passage needs to be readily accessible. In particular you do not under any circumstances want to go into the head, as the potential odors may overwhelm even the potent effects of the Gravol.
-Peeing in the cockpit is perfectly acceptable. Men, though your genetics predisposes you to peeing over the rail, many a sleepy, off balance fellow has had his last micturation while doing so. Resist the urge and you will live another day to pee on rocks, in the water, or off the patio back home in the middle of the night.
-So as to keep awake and not miss any crab pots , course changes, or accidental jibes, do something to keep yourself entertained. For me this is listening to Stevie Wonder (huh femster!), or any other stimulating music or book on tape.
Purchase some Therma Care instant heat packets from the drug store. Once opened and applied to back or chest, they generate heat for 8 to 12 hours. A great antidote to the cold.
Every passage is different, and this one was marked by fog. Five hours after leaving Ucluelet, we entered the fog zone. We could see the sun and blue sky tantalizingly close above us, but on the water it was foggy, and it got worse. By nightfall, everything was soaking wet--water dripped off the mizzen boom, the cockpit was wet, and our foul weather gear was soaked. If Canada’s name for Vancouver’s west side is Fogust, I propose we call the Oregon and Washington coastal waters Sogaust!
We arrived in Grey’s Harbor Westport around 9:30 in the morning. The bar was calm and the tide had turned to flood (always cross a bar on a flood tide), but just outside the bar the seafloor shoals to about 40 feet and we had some very steep seas for a time. I never worry about it in AllyMar, she is a very seaworthy boat.
By the next day, we were completely rested and dried out, ready for our next overnighter down to Newport. But first, there is this one little gift shop that has the best chocolate turtles and licorice confections anywhere……
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