 We departed Ship Point marina by eleven AM and proceeded outbound, following the marked lanes for vessels 65ft or less. A mile and a half later, our private harbor tour was over. Beautiful as it is, Victoria is home to a busy shipping port, as well as a very busy water airport. New to the area, or not, you will need to stay vigilant regarding the traffic rules. (pictured: the ever present harbor patrol, off our starboard quarter). We exited the harbor, hoisted the main and set the autopilot for home, approximately 20 nautical miles, due South. Outside the harbor, the conditions can vary from dead calm to rough and windy. Drake Passage, the stretch of water that connects South America to Antarctica, is known for having some of the most brutal winds and biggest waves on Earth, earning it the nickname “Drake Shake” when the waters are rough, and “Drake Lake” when they are calm. I think the names “Strait Shake” and “Strait Lake” are fitting for the water that connects Victoria to Port Angeles, albeit, on a much, much smaller scale, of course. If you’ve crossed the Strait of Juan de Fuca during gale force winds with an opposing current, you’ve probably experienced the “Strait Shake”, type 2 fun for some, type 3 for others. On the last leg of our trip, we were definitely on the “Strait Lake”, flat seas and no wind. For the next three hours, we enjoyed the placid ride home under power, tidying up the galley, organizing the salon or just relaxing on the foredeck. After passing the Pilot boat, Ediz Hook buoy, the CG station, the Landing, Terminal 1 and finally our beer-can start mark/Boat Haven’s entrance buoy, the sails were packed and the mooring lines prepped to make our final landing of the trip. We look forward to Falling around Van Isle again.    Home again, home again, jiggity jig…almost. Pulling into Victoria’s Causeway/Ship Point Marina (pictured) on day seven was almost like coming home. Strictly speaking, it is the closest marina to Port Angeles (15 nm), and we, inevitably, end up sailing here quite often. Another Fall benefit, September thru June is considered the “low season” in Victoria so the Harbor Authority reduces the moorage rate by 25%. Earlier in the day, we departed Sydney, called to reserve our slip, and took advantage of a warm afternoon breeze (pic: approaching Baynes Channel) sailing the entire 25 nm leg,furling our canvas just outside Victoria Harbor’s lower breakwater at Odgen Point. Note: Sails are not allowed inside the harbor due to potentially heavy boat and seaplane traffic- and is strictly enforced. After securing Jomo’s bow and stern line around Ship Point’s dock #2 bunk boards (pic: top), we chatted with our live-aboard neighbors (a popular winter hole for cruisers because of the winter rates) and headed to one of our favorite eating and drinking spots for dinner. The following morning we walked into town to stretch our legs and grab a coffee before sailing across the Strait, back to our land home.
 We departed Maple Bay the morning of October 10th, day 6, bound for Sydney, approximately 17 nautical miles south. In between work meetings, we cast off the dock lines, exiting Bird’s Eye Cove by 1030. Erika had a work meeting from 11 to noon but was happy to power up the Starlink and take em underway (pictured lower left). As I noted earlier, our passage down Sansum Narrows was some of the best sailing we had all week, flat seas with a warm and moderate breeze off our port quarter. We used the term “Office Sailing”, instead of the classic “champagne sailing” to describe the most agreeable conditions for Erika’s Zoom meetings. By 1230, Erika was done for the day, allowing us to double hand the remaining 10 miles under the asymmetrical sail (pictured above, passing Separation Point). While underway, we called Sydney Marina to arrange moorage. The office confirmed our reservation and passed along the slip assignment and gate info before they left for the day. With the “paperwork” out of the way, we continued to enjoy our sail, across Satellite Channel, thru the small archipelago between Swartz and Tsehum Bays knowing our slip was patiently waiting for us. Just before dusk, Jomo arrive at the marina entrance. We motored to our assigned spot, all ready to tie up and cook some dinner, but someone else was sleeping in our bed, specifically a super yacht. We parked Jomo at the nearest empty slip, walked up to the moorage office, and found an “emergency contact” phone number posted on the window. A couple affable conversations later, we were reassigned to another slip. Whew, it was a little more than planned but we settled in for the evening, made dinner and watched the Northern Lights (pic). Just another day, and night, “falling” around South Van Isle.
  On day five (Oct. 9th) of Jomo’s Autumn whirl-wind work and relax tour of South Van and the Gulf Islands, the decent south began. Kids and dogs were waiting for us back home. We planned to depart Thetis Island after Erika’s last meeting of the day. Not unlike hotels, marinas have checkout times, usually 11a.m. Erika’s last meeting didn’t end until 2pm so she walked up to the cafe/marina office and asked if a late checkout was okay. The manager giggled at the question, “take your time”, she said genuinely, noting that we were the only guests in the marina and therefore “it wasn’t a problem in the least.” Did I mention early Fall is a great time to go cruising? We would have the same quiet and quaint experience in Maple Bay, our next destination. Sunny skies and gentle tail winds made for a very relaxed and scenic sail thru Stuart Channel and, eventually, into the fjord of Sansum Narrows (pictured). Fourteen nautical miles and three hours later we arrived at the entrance to Bird’s Eye cove, an inlet off Maple Bay and home to the marina and it’s adjacent seaside community. After striking our sails, we motored down the slender inlet and into our assigned slip. Later, we counted over 20 empty guest slips, we were all alone, again (pictured). October 1st marked the shoulder season for the marina and the reduction in the daily moorage rates. The savings happily went towards dinner at a nice restaurant located at the end of our dock. One more reason why “Falling” around South Van Isle is a good idea.   Jomo departed Ladysmith Marina around noon for the ten mile passage to Thetis Island. Before leaving Ladysmith, we planned to stop at Oyster Bay marina to empty our waste tank. This was the only marina in the area that indicated it had such facilities. The reputation and policies regarding waste in Canada isn’t new to us but we have been in the habit of pumping our waste properly since Erika and I started living on sailboats back in 1989. The pump’s location wasn’t clear so I performed a couple drive-bys, eventually spotting the equipment at the very end of a linear dock, packed full of mostly derelict boats. Due to an unfavorable cross wind, I added a little spice to the throttle and backed Jomo’s starboard quarter along the 15 feet of dock space we had available to us. It was a little stressful, especially only having a small portion of Jomo’s 43ft secured and the rest hanging out beyond the dock. A couple locals looked at us like we were crazy, “making such an effort to pump our tank out.” A few friendly exchanges mirrored their thoughts. As most of you know, waste facilities in the States are…abundant and free of charge. Erika and I walked up to the Oyster Bay marina office to pay for tokens required to operate the machine, which came to about seven US dollars. As a footnote, we were warned about waiting for a red light to turn green, indicating that it was ready for use, otherwise it would mean the pump is broken, and by the way, no refunds. The man mentioned he “won’t be in the office for the rest of the day anyway.” We made the walk back to the boat, wondering what we got ourselves into, and inserted a token in the dodgy looking pump and hoped for the best. The pump displayed the green light but nothing happened. We tried another token, again, following the indifferent office attendant’s instructions, but again, nothing. An hour later, Erika emptied the effluent overboard as we blasted across Stuart Channel. The two-hour sail across to Thetis was exhilarating. A 15-knot easterly was blowing across the channel making for a fast beat over to Scott Island, down past Hudson Island and around Alarm Rock. The easterly weakened as we approached the entrance to Telegraph Harbor, the sails were stowed, and the engine was started. Earlier, Erika contacted both marinas in Telegraph, aptly named Thetis Marina and Telegraph Marina, for general information, but also regarding each marina’s depth. Jomo’s nearly nine-foot draft can be limiting when mooring, but so can six-foot drafts. Thetis’ harbor attendant called us back and suggested the Telegraph may have a foot or two advantage over them, nine vs eleven at MLLW. Interesting, because Telegraph is located at the end of the narrow inlet. Both marinas offer eateries, Thetis, with it’s small pub and Telegraph, a country store/cafe. Telegraph marina has some fun stories from past PAYC club summer cruises. It was an easy choice. We tied Jomo to the outer most (deepest) dock and walked up to country store/cafe/marina office to check in. Again, it’s October, we were the sole visitors at this, traditionally, super busy summer stop. The large park like setting overlooking the marina, with it’s volleyball nets, shuffleboard court and Adirondack chairs splayed about, didn’t leave one’s imagination how active and summery this place would be in, say, June or July. We had it all to ourselves. Erika and I enjoyed some bistro delights and soaked in the island life that strolled in and out of the remote community hub. A chatty local and fellow boat owner invited us to an island get-together later that afternoon, a community soup and social. Island life in the off season can be lonely, especially for new residents, hence the weekly socials. Instead, we chose a nice walk around the island, watched the sunset and snuggled back in our floating lair.   Sunday afternoons, during the peak cruising season, is a great time to acquire a vacant slip or adequate swinging room. After the weekenders depart, and the local shindigs have ended (Saturday farmer’s market in Ganges, for instance), the lucky few reap the benefits. But if you can cruise during the shoulder months, April and October, many of the popular cruising spots are pretty quiet all week. Pulling up to Ladysmith Yacht Club’s guest dock Sunday afternoon was quiet as a church mouse. The following morning we found out where all those mice worked, at the nearby log mill, from four in the morning till midnight. A little noisy at times but entertaining during our short stay none the less. Sunday evening we walked the 40 minutes into town and dined at the Fox and Hound, an English pub recommended by Randy V. (Thx!) and lucky for us, still open. Maybe we should have grabbed a flashlight for our walk back to the boat that night since most of it was unfamiliar territory and in pure darkness. It turned into a bit of fun and misadventure.   Monday afternoon, after Erika finished up her work day, we made another trek into town to top off our boat pantry, flashlight not required. Repeating Monday morning’s wake up call, Tuesday morning’s 4 a.m. log mill steam whistle, followed by their industrial clamor of cranes and conveyors, stirred us out of our bunk. When in Rome? After lunch in the cockpit, Erika returned below for another hour of work while I set off to explore the marina. There are a couple marinas that are adjacent and, therefore, more convenient to Ladysmith’s downtown resources, but we preferred the rustic, less populated surroundings of Ladysmith Marina, oh, and the reciprocal club benefits, of course. On the other hand, aside from the constant hum of the mill, the sleepy setting might just be seasonal or even temporary. There are rows and rows of silver metal, king-sized, monolithic boat sheds taking up the marina’?s prime water-estate. Also, a large construction site adjacent to the marina points to expensive housing developments in the very near future. Whether its busier in the summer or will become busier year-round, we’ll find out another time. Next stop, Thetis Island. - Keith   Free to sail Canada, but hoping to settle somewhere before Erika’s Monday morning meeting, we chose to run up a series of narrow channels to Ladysmith, B.C. Ladysmith, about 30 nm from Van Isle Marina, would take us about 5-6 hours. We departed about noon, winding Jomo through the small archipelago just south of Shute passage. At one point between Fernie and Goudge Islands the depth instantly dropped from 20 ft to 11 ft and narrowed to about a boat length. Of course, a trawler wanted to transit the same water near the same time. Slow is pro. ;) Entering Colburne passage, you will always be giving way to one or more of the BC ferries that frequent Swartz Bay.  Leaving the busy ferry routes off our stern, we entered Satellite channel, over one mile wide and much less traffic, especially this time of year. The wind was light so we continued to motor-sail our way North, along the west side of Salt Spring Island and into the steep and narrow fjords of Burial Inlet and Sansum Narrows. Although the currents can run near four knots, we encountered a favorable 1-2 that day. If you haven’t experienced these waters, I would highly recommend it. We would return the same way a few days later and enjoy this area under full sail.  Speaking of sailing, as we left the narrows and entered the wider Stuart Channel, the wind finally filled in, but from the North, our current heading. No worries, we were making good time. Up went the sails and the back and forth commenced, across the channel, from Penelakut Island to Chemainus, up to Thetis and finally laying the inlet to Ladysmith. We doused our sails, fired up the diesel and motored past town, eventually securing Jomo along the Ladysmith Yacht Club guest dock, our temporary home for the next couple of days.
 On day two, we continued our plan B, “work and cruise, cruise and work”. Plan B, just as it implies, wasn’t our first choice, but plan B’s have been our plan A’s a number of times in the past, so it was nothing new. Sunday morning we woke to an empty San Juan Island anchorage, a nice contrast to summer’s alternative. I put some water on the stove for the coffee press and switched on the diesel heater. It was a quintessential setting, a cool autumn morning, a lone boat in the middle of a polished lagoon, surrounded by the quiet, patch work of deciduous and evergreen trees (for effect, add the wail from a solitary loon here ;). Enjoying a warm cup inside a warm cabin seemed most appropriate. There was no rush, we had all day to make for our next stop, Tsehum Harbor, home to Van Isle Marina and an official Canadian port of entry. After a relaxing breakfast, the dishes done, the cabin tidied and the bed made, we were ready to weigh anchor. After snaking our way out of Mosquito Pass, we set a course for B.C.’s waters via Haro Strait. Sunny, warm, but windless, we motored across the strait, along Sydney Island’s north shore, tying up at Van Isle Marina about noon, two hours later. Erika stepped off Jomo and into the phone shack. She dialed up a Canada border agent, jibber- jabbered for a few minutes and jumped back aboard with our customs reference number in hand. We were officially free to sail beautiful British Columbia…   The first night at anchor, we plugged our heating blanket into the Jackery 1000ah power station, the alternate source of energy we wanted to experiment with during this cruise. The LED on the unit’s display showed we only consumed about 20% of the stored electricity for the night. Unfortunately, I forgot to pack it’s very unique charging cord and therefore stowed the remaining 80% of it’s capacity away for the remainder of the cruise - flex and adapt I guess. Along with it’s conveniently small size (think of an Igloo Playmate cooler) I purchased it as an alternate or emergency power source for Erika’s work station and sat-com, in case the house bank failed - for whatever reason. Luckily, we didn’t have to use, it but it was comforting to know it was on board. -Keith
 Our original plan was to take vacation days and sail around the Canadian Gulf Islands for two weeks in early September. Unfortunately, Erika got sick and spent those two weeks in bed. If the first rule of boating is don’t crash into anything, the second could very well be to remain flexible or adaptable. Plan B would be marginally different, we’ll leave in October, cruise for one week, while Erika continues to work full time - flex. Power and internet service was suddenly our top priority. I spent the next month fitting Jomo out with solar and the requisite Starlink, as well as purchasing an electric portable power supply (Jackery 1000), just in case - adapt. We cast off our dock-lines Saturday morning and made way for Westcott Bay, San Juan Island. Westcott, south of Roche Harbor, is about 32 nm or 4-5 boat hours from Port Angeles, a very manageable distance regarding weather and currents, and a good launch point to Canadian customs in Sydney. Oh, and did I mention it’s October, both Westcott and, the normally much busier neighbor, Garrison Bay, were utterly and completely empty. After a day of motoring across one strait and sailing across another, Jomo arrived at the entrance of Mosquito pass about 4:30pm, plenty of daylight to help us navigate the narrow corridor into Westcott Bay. Erika and I dropped the hook nearly the same spot we use to anchor Resa (our SY41) with it’s 8 foot draft, the deepest part of the bay. I shut off the diesel engine and flicked on the anchor light. It was official, we were finally cruising Jomo after its purchase back in May. Six months of local Wednesday Nights races, two regional regattas, and a couple overnight trips to Victoria kept us busy, but our primary goal was finally in action. Next stop, Van Isle Marina, one of the many port of entry telephone reporting sites along B.C.’s Saanich peninsula. (to be cont.)    In Part One we departed Port Angeles to explore the recently opened Canadian waters that had been closed due to Covid. A week later it was time to head back to the states and close our circuitous venture. The nearest port of entry/US customs was located in Roche Harbor on San Juan Island. We were in no hurry. Roche lay only ten nautical miles south of Bedwell/Beaumont Park, our last stop in Canada's Gulf Islands. After breakfast, Loren paddled back to the beach to pick up where he left off exploring the previous day. Erika was back on her reader. I sat in the cockpit watching a couple of combative river otters on the swim dock. I have to say it was quite a match-up. The 10 X 10 swim dock acted like a wrestling ring on the water with me as the only spectator. Their playful quarrel was full of rolling acrobatics, more graceful than scrappy. At one point otter A actually shoved otter B right off the dock. It didn't stop B, presumably the underdog, shooting out of the water like a guided missile and back into the ring. Siblings, brothers, probably. Erika and I don't know anything about that (sarcasm). Beaumont Isl. National Park - Loren fueling up - The Wrestling Ring By late morning we cast off the mooring ball and bid Bedwell adieu. The weather was amazing. Our leisurely sail south across Boundary Pass was both pleasant and quite appropriate, Here we officially concluded our time in Canada and crossed back into US waters. Next stop, US Customs. We charted our passage to Roche via Johns Pass. Resa has cruised to Stuart Island in the recent past. We participated in PAYC's flotilla at Reid Harbor and again at a later date, by ourselves in Prevost Harbor. Both anchorages and hiking highly recommended. Alth0ugh watch for that hidden reef at the entrance to Satellite cove (pic). I witnessed a hard grounding by a small sailboat at that spot. The boat was motoring at an average clip then suddenly stopped, it's mast lurching forward with a rude, abrupt shudder. An uneasy feeling to see and experience to say the least. The boat eventually backed up and anchored in safer waters without any apparent damage. But I'm sure both the keel and the passenger's nerves were a bit mucked-up. Heading to Roche, we cut into Johns Pass, a narrow gap between Stuart and Johns Island. At the tightest section of the pass a large power boat squeezed by us, leaving a large wake... and us behind it. It was definitely in a rush which became obvious when it began to cut the corner south of the pass at full speed, est. about 12 knots. We assumed the captain had local knowledge with regards to the reefs depth and location and I actually reconsidered our original plan to pass far to leeward of the underwater ridge. Not a moment later we watched when the 60 footer threw it's gears in reverse, creating a large froth of churned up seawater astern. It's pilot house lurching forward as the hull came to a stop. But this time, as far as we could discern, there was no contact with the reef. We think the captain "woke up" just in time to read their rapidly decreasing depth instruments and panicked, I imagne. They promptly turned to port, steering around the hazard and continued west. It was obviously not their best moment but its really just another day messing about on boats. Love it or not.  Careful when cutting corners when cruising the islands. -Johns Pass' Narrow Cut - The yacht that said "oops" (background) - Spieden Island As Resa left John Island astern the wind disappeared completely so down went the mainsail. The last three or four miles would be a motor ride across the now glassy Spieden Channel. To our port lay Spieden Island. Privately owned, Spieden is unpopulated by humans. I would recommend you get in for a closer look, or pull out the binos, and enjoy viewing its population of exotic sheep, deer and probably a group of Steller sea lions basking in the sun on the south facing side, but watch for the charted reefs, rocks and islets along the west end. Loren Chill'n in the Cockpit Erika working on the CBP app. Ugh, broken pump Plan A was to check back into the states using the mobile passport control app or CBP and use the waste pump-out facility at Roche. Erika began our check in process via the app but ran into issues. She called the Roche customs office and they suggested, since we were here anyways, just re-enter in person. So now we had two reasons to pull into the local marina. So, as I mentioned previously, there were no pump-out stations available along our route. Again, Canada has a relaxed poop (pun intended) policy regarding waste management. This quote from a Canadian government website sums it up, "In Canada, it is illegal to dump sewage from boats within three nautical miles of shore (unless pump-outs are not available, and you cannot get three miles off shore)." Basically it states we could legally dump our waste anywhere along our Gulf Island loop. But we chose not to and our tank was just about to burst, hence our perfect timing to use Roche's facility. The marina was uncomfortably busy so back to Westcott Bay for the night, just a tootle down Mosquito Pass, to officially close the loop. Our hook was set by one o'clock. By three we were hiking the Bell Pt. perimeter trail near English Camp. By four o'clock, Loren and I were exploring Westcott Bay aboard the kayak and SUP while Erika relaxed in the cockpit with her reader. I wanted to check out Westcott Bay Shellfish Co. since we've been hearing how trendy it has become but a raft of harbor seals nearby caught our, okay, my attention instead. Loren and I had a really nice paddle around the bay until sunset. Bell Pt. Trail Relaxing on Resa Paddle Time  Sunset in Westcott Bay - Sept. 2, 2021 The next morning we woke up really early to catch an ebb tide down Haro Strait. On the bright side we watched the sun rise and by 6am Resa was free from the bottom and heading home. The day was expected to warm and the wind blow. With sails full Resa blasted down Haro at over 9 knots. We were making great time but the sunshine didn't last. As we approached Juan de Fuca we also approached a wall of thick white fog. We triggered the radar and running lights to see and be seen in the dense cloud. The almost total lack of visibility lasted until we pulled into Port Angeles harbor. The abrupt ending of fog revealed a beautiful sunny blue sky, a first-rate meteorological welcome back home for sure. Maybe 30 feet Visibility Loren on Fog Watch Home again  The wall of fog we left outside Port Angeles
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AuthorA UCSC graduate in Marine Biology, Keith holds a 100 ton USCG Capt. License and is an ASA/US sailing certified instructor. Archives
January 2025
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