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Chapter 8—Mutiny by Design
Dad & Mary pretending to be customs officals, Patience to left. Prince Rupert Yacht Club. [20mm, F8, 1/250sec, Kodak RG 100] We wake the next morning to some joker pounding on one of the portholes demanding a “custom’s inspection”. The joker turns our to be my dad and his wife Mary. Dad and Mary have come up to Prince Rupert via motorhome. We scheduled this rendezvous months ago back in Seattle. Somehow everything has gone as planned and here we are together. Dad and Mary will be heading back down to Port Hardy (and eventually Seattle) via the Queen of the North – the ferry we have become so familiar with.
All four of us go out to breakfast at a place called “Ruffles” up in town. Life is pretty good as we get shuttled around in the motorhome’s “land dinghy” – a Ford Escort. The food at Ruffles is pretty good, although not as good as our last non-boat cooked meal at Shearwater. We have a great time. It is really fun to meet family way up in the middle of nowhere. We go back to the Patience and bid dad and Mary goodbye for a while. Amy and I prepare to head up and take showers at the yacht club’s nice facilities. Breakers Pub--One of our favorite haunts while we were at Prince Rupert. Cow Bay, Prince Rupert. [35-70mm, F4, 1/200sec, Kodak RG 100]
While I am on the dock waiting for Aim, a reporter from the Prince Rupert Daily News stops by and interviews me about the previous nights fishing-boat wake fiasco. I give him an eyewitness account and end up getting quoted in the paper when the story runs the following Monday. I ask Matt the reporter if he likes Prince Rupert:
“I don’t.”
I tell Matt we are headed to the Charlottes and he tells me in no uncertain terms to “beware of Hecate Strait”. Already amply concerned about crossing Hecate Strait, I thank him kindly for the advice and Amy and I go up and take our much-needed showers.
The yacht club is very nice. While it’s not quite the equivalent of SYC (Seattle Yacht Club), one can’t complain. I guess I am kind of kidding since the Patience has never graced the floats at SYC anyway. The yacht club caretakers are Terry and Travis. While their job titles are a little morose, they turn out to be great guys. They monitor VHF channel 72 and accept reservations. Though we didn’t try it, we heard rumors that there is actually good crabbing in Prince Rupert Harbor within a short dinghy ride from the yacht club. Prince Rupert Yacht Club at semi-low tide. Cow Bay, Prince Rupert. [20mm, F8, 1/250sec, Kodak RG 100]
The Cow Bay district in Prince Rupert is downright ritzy and trendy by North Coast standards. Right above the yacht club is Breakers Pub, where Amy and I had celebratory beers last night. Across the street from Breakers is an awesome coffee shop called Cowpuccino’s. During our four days at Prince Rupert we are frequent customers at both establishments.
Today, Amy and I stop at Cowpuccino’s for a mid-afternoon snack. While we are settling up with one of the baristas, I casually ask what the easiest way to get to the airport is. Our friend/crew Jose is coming in tonight and we need to pick him up. Expecting a straightforward answer, I am shocked then the barista kind of smirks, and then begins a long, horrible description about the airport. It turns out that the airport is on another island (Digby Island) about 4 or 5 miles away from downtown Prince Rupert. The only way to get to and from the airport is by ferry. To further complicate matters, the only vehicles that are allowed on the ferry are vehicles officially sanctioned by the airlines. Ugh! Not exactly what we had in mind. We decide meeting Jose at the airport is a logistical nightmare, fraught with uncertainty and unknowns. We decide to be lame and let Jose find his own way across the ferry and over to Rupert. We will meet him at the airport office in downtown Prince Rupert where he theoretically should be dropped off by the airport shuttle. . Another misty/rainy day in Prince Rupert. Main street in Cow Bay. Cowpuccio's coffee shop to left. [35-70mm, ~F5.6, ~1/400sec, Kodak RG 100]
After our mochas and Nanaimo Bar sugar bombs we are feeling much refreshed. We head up to town to do laundry. There are several Laundromats in the main part of the town. Life is a little tougher since dad and Mary took the Ford Escort and we are now on foot. We end up going to the Laundromat on the same street as the movie theatres. The laundry facilities are ok – there are lots of washers, but not many dryers.
The weather has been pretty nice all day with a few clouds but some sunshine intermixed. I have been watching the barometer and it recently fell a few points to 1025 millibars (30.27 in). I check the water temperature in the harbor and it is a relatively balmy 54.8F (12.7C); though still a little chilly for swimming.
Prince Rupert is an interesting place I have been here twice in my life. Once now, and once back in the '70s with my family by motorhome. Both times, the weather was the same—foggy, misty, rainy and generally pretty dreary. The city gets an average of 95 inches of rain, which is well over 2 times the amount of rain Seattle gets. For anyone who is familiar with rainfall (like most of us from the northwest), this equates to a lot of rain. The city is about 40 nautical miles south of the state of Alaska and is on the relatively small Kaien Island. There is a bridge to the mainland, which connects the city by road to Prince George. The economy in Prince Rupert has been primarily fishing and timber based. I say, “has been”, because it looks like this is changing whether the city’s 17,500 residents like it or not. The city is undergoing very hard economic times due to downturns in both the logging and fishing industries. In 1997 the big wood pulp mill in Prince Rupert closed and several canneries have closed over the last few years. It is a well-known fact that fisheries are down everywhere in the Pacific Northwest. Sadly, this makes for kind of a bleak backdrop in Prince Rupert. However, all is not lost, as there seem to be some signs of hope. From our limited vantagepoint in Cow Bay, it looked like there is a bit of a boom in the tourist industry. It seems kayaking, backpacking, skiing and snowboarding are becoming popular pastimes for visitors in the area. In addition, I read in The Times that a new sawmill is opening in August 1998 and should employ a few people. I certainly hope that times get better for the citizens of Prince Rupert. Street corner in Cow Bay. [35-70mm, ~F5.6, ~1/400sec, Kodak RG 100]
Anyway, around 7:00 that night we head up to meet Jose at the airline ticket office. Dad and Mary have been kind enough to loan us the land-dinghy. Miraculously, Jose shows up as expected. He looks a little frazzled, but happy to see that we are there. That night we head up to Breakers Pub for dinner and beers. We end up having a great night and play Hearts late into the night.
The next morning my two brothers Sebastian and Ben are due to arrive. They, together with Jose, represent my crew for the remainder of the trip. Amy will be flying home from the infamous Digby Island Airport tomorrow morning. Amy, Jose and I take the land-dinghy over to the Alaska State Ferry Terminal to pick up Sebastian and Ben. Unlike the “not very price conscious, but very comfort conscious” Jose, my brothers have chosen a slightly less expensive route from Seattle to Prince Rupert. For those that don’t know, getting to and from Prince Rupert is a non-trivial and non-inexpensive undertaking. To drive to Prince Rupert is about a 1,000 mile, 2 or 3 day trip (as my father & Mary can attest). Sebastian, Jose and Ben considered renting a Humvee and making a roadtrip, but this turned out to be rather expensive – both in terms of dollars and time spent. The whole crew gathered for coffee and nanaimo bars at Cowpuccio's. [Yashica T-4, Kodak RG 100]
Ben and Sebastian ultimately decide to take the “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” approach (as in the movie) to get to Prince Rupert. They hop on an Alaska Air flight from Seattle that takes them to Ketchikan, AK. The flight gets into Ketchikan at about 11:00PM. They have literally about half an hour to run across town and hop on the Alaska Ferry. The ferry travels through the night to Prince Rupert. That gets us to where we are now, waiting at the ferry terminal for them.
Some may remember that this particular ferry terminal has been in the news before. In July 1997, Canada and the U.S. were in the middle of another conflict over usage of the fisheries that our two countries share. Canadians were accusing the U.S. of engaging in “extreme overfishing”. Fishermen in Prince Rupert decided to take matters into their own hands, and eventually 200 Canadian fishing boats surrounded the Alaska State Ferry Malaspina while she was docked at the terminal. Some 328 passengers and 71 vehicles were on board ready to depart for Ketchikan when the blockade was initiated. Affairs got quite heated, and heavyweight politicians including Alaska State Governor Tony Knowles, Washington State Senator Slade Gordon, Canadian Minister of Fisheries David Anderson and U.S. Secretary of State Madeline Albright got involved and all duked it out. After three days and a lot of widespread press coverage, the blockade was finally lifted. No one was hurt, but the blockade didn’t seem to do much to solve some of the difficult problems fishermen are facing. As a result of the blockade, the Malispina stopped calling on Prince Rupert for about 5 months and the State of Alaska initiated a lawsuit against the fishermen involved in the debacle. One day when I was reading The Daily in Cowpuccino’s, I read a story about how the 5 month Alaska ferry service stoppage had a huge negative financial impact on the Prince Rupert. Stocking up for the Charlottes at the deluxe Prince Rupert Safeway. Note useless flat sugar cake in foreground. [Yashica T-4, Kodak RG 100]
Anyway, back to 1998. Today, the Malispina arrives in peace. We wait in the lobby and sure enough Ben and Sebastian safely come out of the custom’s clearance zone. Both look a little tired, but well enough. We take them to Cowpuccino’s (which has now become our second home) and we tell stories and drink coffee. Later in the day we head up and have a greasy lunch at the Prince Rupert Dairy Queen. We all eat hungrily knowing it will be our last fast food for 2 weeks. Afterwards we head to the Liquor Store and Safeway (there is great, huge Safeway in Prince Rupert) to stock up for our excursion to the Charlottes.
The five of us together are probably a bit of a nightmare smart-assing our way around Prince Rupert. In the Liquor Store, Amy almost gets the video camera seized, as apparently you are not supposed to take pictures in government liquor stores. In Safeway, at one point I look in our shopping card and Sebastian and Jose have put in an enormous flat sugar cake into the cart; just what we need for crossing Hecate Strait. Life is good and fun and we are having a grand time despite the fact that the weather is poor – gray skies and on and off rain. A crowded but fun dinner party in Dad and Mary's 'land-yacht'. [Yashica T-4, Kodak RG 100]
That night we all join Dad and Mary at the motorhome for dinner. The motorhome is parked at the only motorhome campground in town. From their perch, Dad and Mary look down on a number of less fortunate campers who are tenting it in the rain. The evening begins laced with tenseness. It starts when Ben plays with the satellite dish on top of the motorhome’s roof and gets it out of alignment. Unable to receive his standard 128 channels, my Dad starts arguing with Ben. This fight abruptly ends when Amy has a moment of clutzy-ness and spills her glass of red wine all over the seat she is sitting on. After this, tensions subside and we have a nice lasagna and salad dinner. Amy doesn’t drink any more wine. Later that night we end up once again at Breakers Pub drinking beer. Amy getting on the board the Air BC 737 to head home to Seattle. Digby Island Airport, Prince Rupert. [Yashica T-4, Kodak RG 100]
The next morning we get up and it is time for me to bid farewell to Aim as she is headed back to Seattle. While I am looking forward to going out to the Charlottes with “the boys”, I will really miss Amy’s company for the next two weeks. She has been an incredible sport and we have had a wonderful time together. Even in the midst of rain storms, seasickness and lack of bathing facilities she has remained cheerful as ever. I shall really miss her, but am grateful we have had the last two weeks together.
We take the shuttle bus and ferry out to the now somewhat infamous Digby Island. The shuttle bus and ferry combo costs C$11 for a one way trip. At the airport, we say goodbye and I watch her climb aboard the Air BC 737. I wait until the plane takes off and then head back to Prince Rupert. The short ferry ride seems really gloomy without her. The continual drizzle doesn’t help cheer me up.
When I get back to the boat, I go on a mission of busyness to try and cheer myself up. The boat is an utter mess. The Patience is perfect for 2 people, but 5 people, especially when it is raining out, is a bit of a push. I take the filler out of the V-berth and stow as much gear as I can. We fill the water tanks and generally prepare for sea. We are ready to be self sufficient for the next two weeks. About an hour later we return the land-dink to my dad and bid he and Mary goodbye as well. They will be leaving Rupert in a few days on the Queen of the North. Right before departing Prince Rupert, I call Prince Rupert Coast Guard on the telephone and file a sail plan.
Before leaving, the crew heads up for one last stop at Cowpuccinos. We order the now traditional Patience order—Nanaimo Bars and mochas. No one wants to leave cozy Cowpuccinos for the crowed and damp Patience. Oh well. Finally, we depart the yacht club at 2:45PM (7/12/98) and head for the nearby gasdock. At the gas dock, some poor charter boat operator has pumped stove oil into his diesel tank and is now trying to pump it out; what a mess. I am very careful to choose the correct, non-stove oil fuel hose. The entire crew is cranky and we all have sugar headaches from our Nanaimo Bars and mochas.
On our way out of Prince Rupert we buck about a 15 knot southeasterly and a flooding tide. We are making a measly 3 knots over the ground. The weather is fairly poor although we have had a few sun breaks. It has been very hard for me to turn south after being so close to Southeast Alaska. We were extremely tempted to go an additional 40 nautical miles northward and cross the boundary to Alaska so we could say we’ve done it. In addition, we are just 30 nautical miles south of the Khutzeymateen Inlet – a famous Grizzly Bear Reserve. We are far too tight on time though, so we push on towards the Charlottes. Sunrise over Beaver Channel. [20mm, F8, 1/125sec, Kodak RG 100]
Ben and Jose are asleep and Sebastian and I are on watch. I had intended to go to go the strategically located Larsen Harbor today, but it is looking out of reach given our late departure and poor progress. Larsen Harbor would have been a good jumping-off point for our Hecate Strait crossing. While sipping a Granville Island Lager, I start looking for a new destination. At about 6:00PM a cruise ship passes us. This turns out to be the last cruise ship we see the entire trip. I make Bobalis and salad for dinner while under way. I try to replicate the great raspberry vinaigrette salad Amy made for us back at Squirrel Cove, but fail pretty miserably. The guys are not impressed with my cooking. After dinner, Visual Navigation Suite goes on the fritz for the first time since we left Seattle. I spend about an hour and half working to get it fixed and finally get us back online. Thank God—I wouldn’t want to actually have to break out the paper charts. I think the problem was that I was archiving too many tracks.
After transiting Ogden Channel, we arrive at Spicer Island at around 10:30PM. We anchor in the bay on the southwest corner of the island. It is our latest arrival of the trip and we come in navigating by radar and the remaining rays of sunlight. We are the only boat in the anchorage and the only boat we have seen for the last few hours. After the anchor is set, we settle down and play a few rounds of Hearts and then hit the sack. Rainbow at 0700. Looking southwest through Beaver Passage. [35-70mm, F5.6, 1/125sec, Kodak RG 100]
The next morning I get up at 6:00AM. I try to get the VHF weather broadcast, but am unable to receive anything. I decide I am going to stick our nose out into Hecate Strait and see how it looks. If the weather is poor, we will turn around and go back into Larsen Harbor. If it looks good, we will go for it. I try to be relatively quiet as I pull up the anchor, so as not wake the crew. By 6:30AM, I am pulling out of the Spicer Island anchorage and the guys are still asleep. I head southwest out of Beaver Passage and sip on my coffee. It is not raining, but the weather looks threatening. We are surrounded by squalls and it poured during the night. I look behind and Ogden Channel and Anchor Mountain are dark with squalls and thunderstorms. Up to the south is a beautiful rainbow. We continue and are soon in Browning Entrance. There is enough wind so that I can motorsail with the jib up. Far in the distance I see an Alaska State Ferry headed south to Seattle. It is the only other boat out here with us. The conditions feel very desolate and foreboding. I am nervous about crossing Hecate Strait and this sense of foreboding does not help. As I pass Larsen Harbor and try to look in; I don’t think I see any boats, but am not sure. Looking back (northeast) at Beaver Passage and the Spicer and Ralph Islands. Hankin Rock beacon in center of photo. [35-70mm, F4, 1/400sec, Kodak RG 100]
I am below doing some navigating and suddenly the motor slows and the Patience physically slows way down. I almost lose my balance and fall due to the abrupt speed change. After I recover, I scramble up to the cockpit to see what is going on. We have plowed straight through a massive floating kelp bed. The bed is twice as long as Patience and about as wide as we are long. I quickly double-check our position on the charts and the depthsounder. Sure enough, we are where we are supposed to be, and there is plenty of water. The kelp beds just appear to be randomly floating around. For about the half an hour I see dozens of these monsters. I keep a better lookout and avoid hitting any more.
By 9:00AM the weather is starting to look much better. The sun is starting to break through and I actually see some blue sky. This is the first blue sky we have seen for days. By now, we are well into Browning Entrance and entering the Hecate Strait. From our current position in Browning Entrance, it is about 50 nautical miles across Hecate Strait. I try again to get the weather broadcast on the VHF and have no luck. As an alternative, I try calling the Bonilla Island Lighthouse on channel 69, and again have no luck. We are only 8 nautical miles to the north of the lighthouse, so I expect they must not be monitoring 69. As a last resort, I try calling Prince Rupert Coast Guard on 22A and still have no luck. From looking at the locations of their antennas I suspect that we are about exactly half way between the Mount Hays and Cumshewa stations and are thus kind of in “radio no-mans-land”. Sans-weather forecast and buoy conditions, we proceed cautiously onwards. The crew looking somewhat surely after waking up on Hecate Strait. Note Sebastian reading 'Card Games'. He is double-checking a sneaky move Jose made the previous night in our Hearts game. [35-70mm, unknown exposure, Kodak RG 100]
Hecate Strait is a pretty large body of water. I am primarily used to crossing the Straits Juan de Fuca and Georgia. In comparison, Hecate makes those straits look like ponds. Complicating this, is the fact that Hecate is very shallow. Shallow water can equate to short, steep waves if things blow up. The Strait averages about 600 feet (183M) deep at the south end, to 20 – 40 feet (6.1– 12.2M) deep in the north over Dogfish Bank. During our 10 hour crossing, we will have about 120 (36.6M) feet under the keel for the first 5 hours and then a mere 60 feet (18.3M) for the second 5 hours. It is a bizarre experience to have a mere 60 feet (18.3M) of water under the keel but still be nearly out of site of land.
By 10:30AM, the weather is very nice and it looks like we are going to have a beautiful crossing. There are still heavy clouds over the mainland and the Queen Charlotte Islands also have low clouds hanging over them. The barometer is rising and is at 1028 millibars (30.36 in). Worried about the state of our VHF, I finally try a radio check at about 10:30AM and am successfully able to raise Prince Rupert Coast Guard on channel 16. Jettisoning bottle #3 in the middle of Hecate Strait. [35-70mm, unknown exposure, Kodak RG 100]
Halfway across the Strait (53° 31' N, 131° 12' W) we jettison bottle number 3 amid much fanfare. The entire crew is up now and reading in the cockpit. At about the same time we start to pick up VHF weather channel 4 (Cumshewa transmitter). Per the broadcast, the North Hecate buoy, #46183 (8 miles northeast of us of) is reporting ½ meter seas, and 8 – 10 knots of wind. Essentially the same conditions we are seeing. Overall, very nice conditions. The skies are so clear that we have been able to see the Queen Charlotte Islands since we passed Bonilla Island. We are motorsailing with 33 miles to go to Lawn Point, where we will turn south to enter Skidegate Inlet.
During the crossing we see one boat – a crabber setting pots in the west side of the Strait. I later talk to another crabber in Sandspit and he tells me that a Hecate makes for good crabbing. We see many buoys for crab traps as we sail across the western part of the Strait. I make a lunch of Quesadillas. The weather starts to get a little cloudier as we near the Charlottes. Author and Sebastian, middle of Hecate Strait. Queen Charlotte Islands in distant background (port/left). [20mm, F11, 1/320sec, Kodak RG 100]
By 3:30PM we are 5 miles east of Lawn Point and are beginning to cross the spit. The entire east coast of Graham Island is very shallow. On the northern half of the island these shallows are called Dogfish Bank. Somewhere near where we are, the shallows of Dogfish Bank meet up with the sandspit that hooks out in front of Skidegate Inlet. There is a marked course through the spit in to Lawn Point. At Lawn Point you turn southwards and head into Skidegate Inlet and Queen Charlotte City. If you follow the course in correctly to Lawn Point, you should only see a minimum depth of 19 feet (5.8M) at low tide. To follow the marked course, you steer 270° and line up the two markers on shore. The markers on shore are very hard to see, and it took us a while to identify them. When you are about a mile from Lawn Point, you execute a 90° turn to port and head down the channel into Skidegate Inlet. Our chart did not show any buoys, but there are 3 that mark the channel – including one marking the turning point at Lawn Point. Sebastian and Ben enjoying the sun in Hecate Strait. Thunderclouds in the distant background are over Bonnilla Island and Browning Entrance. [20mm, F11, 1/200sec, Kodak RG 100]
During our approach, we get down to a minimum depth of about 25 feet (7.6M) and figure that we have done a good job of following the correct course. When we make our turn at Lawn Point, sea conditions are odd. While not dangerous, the seas are steep, choppy and confused. I figure this must have to do with the currents and very shallow water. Sebastian and Ben navigate while Jose and I pilot. We are fortunate and the tide is going with us and pushing us in to Skidegate Inlet. The tide floods southward down the channel and into Skidegate Inlet. There is probably about a knot of current helping us and kicking up a bit of a riptide. We have about 20 nautical miles to go until Queen Charlotte City. Looking up from Patience's bowsprit. Hecate Strait. [20mm, F11, 1/160sec, Kodak RG 100]
I think I have finally developed a sense for visually telling from the boat (without looking at shore) which way the current is setting. If I look at the water and think that the current is with us, then it is usually setting against us. If I think the current is against us, then is usually with us. Basically my rule has become, look at the water, take an educated guess on the direction of the current and the opposite will be true. I have tried this several times and it always seems to hold true. Strange but it works.
The trip into Queen Charlotte City is long and we finally arrive at about 6:45PM. The docks are full, so we anchor in Bearskin Bay across from the city in 32 feet (9.8M) of water. I lay the Bruce and 100 feet (30.5M) of chain into the mud at the bottom of Bearskin Bay. The guys start to make a fantastic dinner of BBQ ribs, baked potatoes and corn on the cob. I call the Prince Rupert Coast Guard on the VHF (22A) and close this leg of the sail plan. I will re-open it when we are down in South Moresby. Sunset over Nipple Mountain and Mounts Needham and Stapleton. Looking west in Bearskin Bay, Queen Charlotte Islands. [20mm, F8, 1/250sec, Kodak RG 100] That night at cocktail hour, we have our first “Sea Breezes” (vodka + Cran-Raspberry juice), a Patience tradition. We develop a new method for chilling the irritatingly oversized the Cran-Raspberry container. We attach the container to the line on the stern davit and the hurl it into the water. Despite the fact that the water in Bearskin Bay is a pretty warm 55 – 60F (12.8 – 15.6C), we are pleased with our invention. That night, we are witnesses of a wonderful sunset over Nipple Mountain and Mounts Needham and Stapleton. All are 2,300 – 3,500 feet (701 – 1,067M) high. After we watch the sunset, we play Hearts and finally hit the sack. Sebastian sleeps outside in the cockpit.





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Adventures in the Charlottes was written by Tim Whelan.
All pictures and text ©Tim Whelan 1998-1999.
For useage, please see my copyright notice.