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Chapter 5—Change of Plans
Pultney Point. Queen Charlotte Strait in background. [80-200mm, F11, 1/200sec Kodak RG 100] Throughout the early afternoon we make good progress as we catch the ~1.5 knot ebb along the top of Vancouver Island. However, by 4:30PM, it is starting to get a little breezy. We start to get some seas rolling in from Queen Charlotte Strait.
By 6:00PM we are really getting beat-up due to the continually rising westerly. As we motor into it, I think we are going up and down more than we are going forward. We plunge the bow under the green water a number of times. The boat literally comes to a grinding halt for about a minute when this happens. I have to go below and tighten the portholes up a bit as we are getting a few drips of water through them. The tide is starting to change and I am afraid we are going start making zero forward progress. I had been hoping to get near
God’s Pocket or perhaps even Bull Harbor, but accomplishing this is looking less likely with each passing minute. It is decision time – our options are either to turn west into Port Hardy or turn east and head across Queen Charlotte Strait. Those who have read my Around Vancouver lsland story know I am not a particular a fan of Port Hardy. In addition, turning east has the added benefit of offering a nice sail (imagine!) across the Strait. It seems like a no-brainer to me. We hoist sail and turn towards the mainland. By now, it is blowing pretty hard and I put a reef in the main to be on the safe side. Once we start reaching our motion is 1000% better. We start rocking along at 6+ knots. Much better. Once we get settled on our tack, it becomes evident that we will be over-nighting in Blunden Harbor on the mainland side of Queen Charlotte Strait. Given the wind, time, and our current position, it is the obvious destination. Gloomy morning departure at Blunden Harbor. 'Small Island' to left center. [35-70mm, F2.8, 1/100sec Kodak RG 100]
I think it would be safe to say that Amy is a pretty scared at this point. Wind and waves don’t normally seem to bother her, but the fact that we are out in the middle of a large body of water has her scared. We also have gotten hit by a couple waves pretty hard, which really threw the boat and made a bit of a racket. Despite being scared, she has done a great job helping me get the sails up. We both have life vests & harnesses on. The Patience is in her element and is handling well, although my reef in the main looks pretty bad. In fact, the whole boat looks pretty bad. We weren’t really prepared for it to pick up like this and all hell has kind of broken loose. Oh well, nothing that can’t be put away. The wind now is blowing a steady 20+ knots. I estimate the waves are 4 or 5 feet (1.2 – 1.5M) high. The sky has gone completely overcast.
Aim unclips herself and goes below to use the head. She comes up and tells me she took one look in the mirror and then proclaimed to herself, “No time for beauty”. Pretty dang funny. It is a bit of a rocky ride, but not bad at all. Once we get a little settled down, I seal and launch bottle #2 and take a few videos. Before we know it, we are nearing the entrance to Blunden Harbor. I get the sails down and fire up the trusty diesel. The entrance proves to be a little tricky, especially given the conditions. Amy navigates below at the chart table (using radar, depth sounder and Visual Navigation Suite) and I stay topsides and pilot. We get in and drop the hook in about 40 feet (12.2M) of water. We anchor in the lee of Small Island—there are about four other boats anchored with us. The time is 7:45PM. We are both pretty exhausted from the beating we had taken in front of Port Hardy and the sail across Queen Charlotte Strait. We cook up steak fajitas and then head to bed.
We wake up at 5:00AM the next morning and are the first boat out of Blunden Harbor (last boat in, first boat out). We have the anchor up and are underway by 5:45AM. We are dead-set on getting around Cape Caution today. Due to our abbreviated visit, we didn’t really get to see much of Blunden Harbor, so I don’t have much to report. The harbor offers a good and secure anchorage, and there is not much in the way of civilization. For some reason, the harbor reminds me a little bit of Prideaux Haven in Desolation Sound, but it is kind of hard to tell given the weather conditions and our lack interest in exploring.

We get back into Queen Charlotte Strait and head north up along the coastline. It is very foggy out. Visibility is between ½ and ¼ mile. It is flat calm and there is no wind. We are totally relying on our electronics for navigation. Visual Navigation Suite and the radar are working very nicely together. Once again, Amy is navigating and I am on deck piloting.
In her spare time, Amy makes some coffee. She presents me with my cup of coffee, calling it a “cream bomb”. On the Patience we are really into our coffee and creamer (emphasis on creamer intentional). Our cups of coffee are commonly referred to as “cream bombs” or “liquid creamsicles”. Sadly enough, we are packing about 10 pints of our favorite non-dairy creamer—Carnation Hazelnut Non-Fat Liquid Cream. You would think that 10 pints would represent a lifetime supply, but at the rate we go through it, it doesn’t last very long. At any rate, we dread the day when we finally run out of creamer and have to go to the powdered stuff, or even worse, non-fat milk. I am sure you can’t buy Carnation Hazelnut on the north coast of British Columbia.
Celebrating in the drizzle as we cross the infamous WNTL (The Whelan Northmost Travel Line). [20mm, F2.8, ~1/320sec Kodak RG 100]
At 7:24AM, Amy and I break out the Baileys and start celebrating. We have just crossed the infamous WNTL (The Whelan Northmost Travel Line). This is the farthest north latitude anyone in my known family has navigated a yacht - 55.3° North. When we sailed around
Vancouver Island in 1995 , the farthest North we got was Bull Harbor, 20 nautical miles to our west. We are just now passing that latitude. We celebrate with pictures, videos and Baileys & coffee.
Despite the “partying”, we are kept busy with navigation due to fog, rocks, reefs and radar targets that come and go. We have seen a number of radar targets on the screen, but have only caught glimpses of a trawler and a tug southbound. They look like ghost ships on this eerie morning. We are currently heading up Richard’s Channel and there is a pretty big ground swell running. Unfortunately Visual Navigation Suite doesn’t have many current stations for this part of the world, but Chappell’s book says we could be bucking up to a 2 knot opposing current as the flood picks up this morning. Thus far we haven’t really seen much current effect.
As we continue on, the swell continues to build. The boat is now rolling quite a bit and as a result, Amy starts to feel sick and look a little green. In addition, I am afraid the westerly is going to come up and things are going to get ugly as we try and round Cape Caution. Once again, it is decision time – do we go for it, or duck in? I finally decide to duck in. The thought of getting beat up while rounding Cape Caution with my wife feeling sick as a dog does not sound like a fun. We abort our attempt to round the cape and turn hard starboard into the last possible shelter before Cape Caution—Nakwakto Rapids via Slingsby Channel.
Entering Slingsby Channel from Queen Charlotte Strait proves to be extremely intimidating. As our friend Jose would say, “things got a little dicey”, well at least mentally. Amy is navigating while I pilot. Per our radar, visibility is about 400 – 700 feet (121 – 213M). In these conditions, Slingsby Channel is truly a “hole in the wall”—the entrance (labeled the “outer rapids” on the chart) is only 500 feet (152M) wide. While under normal visibility this would probably look like a gaping canyon, today it seems like a slit in the face of a cliff. We can see the entrance to the channel on the radar, but all we can visually see around us is occasional white water crashing on reefs; not very pleasant scenery. Added to this, is the fear that the water flooding into Nakwakto Rapids will “suck” us into a situation where we won’t have control of the boat. Nakwakto Rapids starting to flood. Wishing I had a roll of ISO 400. [35-70mm, F2.8, ~1/20sec Kodak RG 100]
Despite all the extremely dark foreshadowing, we get into the channel with no problems. We go in dead slow, but still make 4 knots over the bottom due to the approximately 3 – 4 knots of flood going east through the channel (Nakwakto is currently flooding at 6 knots). Going down the channel reminds me of the river scene in the movie “Apocolypse Now”. Quite erie, but beautiful, narrow and lush. We transit the channel successfully and take a left turn right before the rapids and head into Treadwell Bay. To our surprise, there is some sort of lodge in Treadwell Bay. In addition, there is a small hovercraft moored up to a floating cabin. We head deep into the bay to the recommended anchorage and drop the hook. The anchorage is a little hairy as we have reefs ~400 feet (122M) away one direction and the shore ~250 feet (76M) away the other direction. It is 11:45AM.
We spend the rest of the day “festering” in Treadwell Bay. The weather is miserable with lots of heavy fog and mist. We can’t see much and everything in the boat is getting damp. Very damp. Amy and I are depressed – we really wanted to get around Cape Caution today and this seems like a real letdown. To cheer ourselves up, we watch Scream and Sleepless in Seattle on the video recorder.
While we are watching movies, one of the crew from the hovercraft rows over, knocks on the hull, and introduces himself. There are three guys onboard and they have developed an experimental hovercraft. They are bringing it up to somewhere in Alaska to demo it to a potential customer. The hovercraft is officially called the Hovercraft Explorer. These guys are business people and believe there is a market for hovercrafts up in Southeast Alaska and north British Columbia. Their vessel can skim over reefs, do 35 mph over flat water and only burn 2 gallons (8 liters) an hour! I wonder to myself what happens when it gets rough. Anyway, they believe they are the first commercial hovercraft to navigate the Inside Passage. I later give them a few gallons of gasoline that we have on board for our Susuki outboard. They are almost out of gasoline because of their repeated unsuccessful attempts to get around Cape Caution. Later, I check out their vessel at closer range. While it is very cool, I think to myself it looks a little lightweight for this part of the coast. Also, given current weather conditions, their accommodations make our accommodations aboard the Patience look like the Queen Mary. They have about four large coolers stocked with food and are cooking on the dock on a portable propane camping stove. Their “bunks” consist of sleeping bags in the cockpit of the hovercraft. Overall, they are a pretty nice group of guys. Amy however thinks they are a little “dead-calmish” (as it relates to the similarly named movie), but I disagree.
We also see a dive boat go by, headed to the lodge. Per the crew from the Hovercraft Explorer, the lodge is actually a dive lodge. This area apparently has some amazing undersea life that attracts scuba divers from all around the world. I wonder to myself if this has something to do with all the fresh water from the run-off up in
Seymour Inlet combining with the salt water in Nakwakto Rapids? All this activity makes Treadwell Bay seem a little bit less dreary.
Amy is in full-fester-mode, so I make some Bobali pizzas for dinner/lunch. Time has sort of lost meaning here in Treadwell Bay. After dinner/lunch, we play cards and eat Nutter Butters for dessert. Later, I put the motor on the Avon and con Amy into accompanying me to see the famous Nakwakto Rapids via Avon. It is near slack water (6.30PM) and I feel we should be safe. Nakwakto Rapids are some of the fastest saltwater rapids in the world. According to the Sailing Directions:
“Tidal streams in Nakwakto Rapids attain a maximum 14 kn on the flood and 16 kn on the ebb, one of the highest rates in the world, their main strength impinging on Turret Rock.” Three foot (0.9M) 'mini-rapids' that are between Indian Reserve Island and the mainland, Nakwakto Rapids. [35-70mm, F2.8, ~1/20sec Kodak RG 100]
Before leaving Treadwell Bay in the Avon, we pull up next to another sailboat that has recently anchored. If memory serves, the boat was called the Windpoint. The Windpoint turns out to be crewed by the Franciscos – a really nice couple from Brown Island in Friday Harbor (Washington). They and their dog “Chocolate” are on their way in to Seymour Inlet. They had entered Slingsby Channel via one of the passages though the Fox Islands and hadn’t had too much trouble. Windpoint is planning on transiting Nakwakto Rapids tomorrow at 7AM slack. The Franciscos tell us they row Chocolate in three times a day so he can take his daily pee. We bid them and Chocolate well, and head off to see the rapids. Their dog Chocolate makes us miss Barkley, our Golden Retriever who is back in Seattle. Barkley, despite being named after “Barkley Sound” (West Coast Vancouver Island) is not very “boat compatible”.
Amy and I continue on to Nakwakto Rapids. It is about a 5 or 10 minute trip once we get the Avon up on a plane. I am intent on landing on the small island that is labeled Indian Reserve Island. I want to hike over the island to view the rapids. We moor the Avon on the “ledge” mentioned in Don Douglas’ book. The ledge is about 50 feet (15.2M) away from some 3 foot (0.9M) “mini-rapids” that are between Indian Reserve Island and the mainland. Once the Avon is tied up securely, we take a few tentative steps down the trail. Unfortunately, Amy somehow becomes convinced bears are stalking us and makes me turn back. I am disappointed, but not real keen on scaring my wife to death. As we depart Indian Reserve Island, we end up almost get sucked down the mini 3 foot (0.9M) rapids due to a premature castoff. Fortunately, we get the Susuki running in a nick of time and zip out of there. We take the Avon over towards the rapids and look cautiously from a few hundred feet away. The rapids look fast even though there is only a knot or two of flood right now. The rapids must be an amazing sight at full flood or ebb. I take a few blurry photographs and then we head back to the boat.
When we get back to the Patience, we start preparing for the next day. I pull up the Avon’s motor and secure everything down. I am intent on rounding Cape Caution come hell or high water. We run the Kabota for about an hour and make some power. Amy declares that we are getting ripe and it is time for an “evening of beauty”. I heat some water on the stove and we both take refreshing and much-needed showers. We hit the sack at 10:00PM. It has been a strange day. Leaving Nakwakto Rapids. Heading west down Slingsby Channel.[35-70mm, F2.8, ~1/30sec Kodak RG 100]
I get up at 5:00AM the following morning and try to listen to the weather forecast on the VHF. We are having a hard time picking up weather 4 (Comox). Radio reception comes and goes as the boat swings – very irritating. I begin to develop a hypothesis that there is something wrong with our VHF’s reception capability. This hypothesis is strengthened as the trip continues. It seems very odd that the hovercraft next door is able to get weather reception with their 7 foot (2.1M) whip antennae, but we are unable to get quality reception with our antennae over 50 feet (15.2M) in the air. As I said, very irritating.
Nakwakto is currently ebbing at over 6 knots. I am planning on leaving Treadwell Bay around 6:15 – 6:30AM when the ebb has died to about 4 – 5 knots. I calculate that will give us approximately 3 knots of westbound current in Slingsby Channel. I want to be “sling-shotted” out of Slingsby Channel, but not too hard. We have 5.3 miles to go west in Slingsby. I figure by the time we get to the
Outer Rapids there will be less than a knot of current and we should not have any problems. I am hoping that the westerly is not blowing yet. It is very hard to tell due to radio reception problems and the incredibly sheltered nature of this bay. I think an atom bomb could go off in Queen Charlotte Strait and we would be oblivious to it here in Treadwell Bay. Queen Charlotte Sound. Egg Island in distant background. [20mm, F2.8, ~1/160sec Kodak RG 100]
None of our cruising guides or even the Canadian Sailing Directions seems to emphasize what I see as a real potential hazard in Slingsby Channel. Maybe I am just hypersensitive about rip tides, but I think this area really has potential to be dangerous. From what I have learned, the ebbs in Nakwakto Rapids and Slingsby Channel are stronger than the corresponding floods. I think this must have to do with the fresh water run-off that is coming from the mountains and glaciers back in Seymour Inlet. One would think this is probably at a maximum in late fall and spring when there is a lot of run-off. At any rate, this, combined with the tidal flow can generate quite an ebb flowing through Nakwakto Rapids. This ebb continues down the somewhat less hairy Slingsby Channel. My guess is the current through Slingsby Channel is probably about half of what the “official current” is at Nawako rapids. When the ebb exits Slingsby Channel and runs into a stiff westerly (imagine the odds of that happening!) at the Outer Rapids, a very steep and dangerous sea must build up. In fact, the guys in the hovercraft mentioned they tried to get out of Sligsby Channel the other day at full ebb with a very light westerly. They ran into what they estimated were six foot (1.8M) breaking waves. Imagine what this place looks like during a spring 16 knot ebb butting up against a 50 knot westerly – it must be a terrifying sight.





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Adventures in the Charlottes was written by Tim Whelan.
All pictures and text ©Tim Whelan 1998-1999.
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