Lyn's Log, 8th June 2008
Northern Vancouver Island

Alert Bay, BC.
N50º35', W126º56'
17,201 miles.

Campbell River is the last town of any size when heading north and the marina at Discovery Harbour was close to all the shopping we required, the large food store and chandlers being the most visited. As Andrew had to get his blood tests done several days before his appointment, we decided to stay in the marina for more than a week and make some much needed rust repairs. This entailed removing the bilge outlet skin fitting from the side of the hull and the diesel filling pipe from the tank to give access inside the hull. This went remarkably smoothly apart from attempting to pour a diesel additive into the tank forgetting that with the filler disconnected it merely poured all over the engine compartment. We also unbolted the steering binnacle from the cockpit floor, hanging it from the boom, in order to derust and paint the entire cockpit. The guard rails were removed from the port side and most of the rusty spots down the port side deck were ground and repainted. The final coat of paint was put on the cockpit while Andrew was travelling to Vancouver with a gale doing its best to blow the tarpaulin to pieces over my head and the threat of rain on the wet paint. It rained most of the night but at least the wind had died down by then.

It was not all work though. We got in touch with some old friends of Andrew’s cousin Penny. Jim and Jan lived on the outskirts of Campbell River and invited us over for a delicious lunch and afternoon of chatting. Jan and Penny used work at the same hospital when their children were young. The next day Jim took us round about to see the rapids at Seymour Narrows, which we would be traversing later, and a walk around Elk Falls Park. Another day they took us south on a scenic route to Courtney via a visit to Jim’s yacht and other places of interest, ending back at their place for a pizza and much needed English tea. They knew so much about the area they would make perfect tour guides. We are very grateful to them.

We now had six weeks to go north and back to Vancouver for Andrew's next specialist appointment. The boat was put back together, stocked up and ready to go, but the weather decided to turn cold and wet. The morning of 5th June we left Campbell River with the wind gusting from the south and the rain temporarily abated. We were taking the last of the ebb towards Seymour Narrows and making 7 knots under reefed genoa. There was a high spring tide and ten to twenty minutes of slack between ebb and flow. The idea was to go through the narrows just before slack and get to Browns Bay marina two miles north of the narrows before the current prohibited further progress north. We arrived too early and hung about warming ourselves with a hot cup of soup. The rain was pelting down again and a small freighter went through the Narrows early, so decided to follow their route.

In the middle of the narrows there had been a twin peaked rock, Ripple Rock, just hidden below the surface that had taken many ships and lives. Boats have been swamped and sunk, in fact a hundred people have died here, which is understandable during the height of the current.So eventually in 1958 it was blown up. It took two years to tunnel underground to the base of the rocks, then vertically, filling the vertical shafts with explosives. Ships now don’t hit anything but even deep down the rock still creates turbulence. Overfalls appear and disappear, there are many whirlpools, but they had little effect on Sentinel. We passed one whirlpool with a hole in the centre about a foot in diameter.

At the far end of the narrows we tied up in Browns Bay marina where there was a daytime restaurant, a small store, a few homes around the bay and a motor home park. The Internet provider had gone down and there was no mobile phone access, but it was quite cheap. We put on the heaters and shut ourselves in against the awful weather outside. Sentinel does not have a heating system, so unless we can hook an electric heater to marina shore power we would stay cold at night. We had not expected this to be a real problem in June, even when we reached Alaska, but the exceptional weather was making life difficult. We heard later that was the coldest June day ever recorded in Vancouver. As we prepared to leave the next morning I found it hard to believe I was wearing my full depth of winter clothing and it was June! Just what has happened to summer?

Again we went out into strong north flowing water and this time, strong northwesterly winds. It did not rain and occasionally the sun came out. Progress was quite fast until early afternoon when the current changed direction and we reached another narrow stretch of water with an island in the middle. Current Passage went north of the island and Race Passage went to the south. We chose the south. Our speed over the ground dropped from 7 knots to just over 1. Again there were upwellings, overfalls and whirlpools. I watched a fishing boat appear from Current Pass and head across the other side near a place called Kelsey Bay, and then continue up the middle of the channel. I wondered if the current was any weaker over near the bay and very slowly made my way across. There was a little less wind there and our speed gradually increased to 3 knots going somewhere near the right direction. Then the wind started to blow at force 7 against us. Before long we were headbashing at 4 knots through the choppy waters, spray everywhere, until after an hour or so we reached the shelter of Neville Bay. As we turned into the bay we spotted a small run-down dock, and there was Frank with whom we had spent a pleasant evening in Octopus Bay over a week earlier.

Neville Bay is a mostly abandoned settlement of about a dozen houses, but the post office is still open and run by Lorna whose family first settled here a hundred years ago. We looked over her old family home, once the general store, which she is trying to maintain as a museum, though she now lives in a small cabin formerly used as a school-house. Apart from her, there are just a few summer homes. While on the dock, a family of otters visited us. There was said to be a black bear on the dock earlier, but we did not see it.

The following morning the low misty cloud slowly lifted. The engine oil needed topping up, then the rest of the day we motored north to the Indian village of Alert Bay. The waters slowly flattened out and the wind died down, so that when the sun shone we got too hot. It was quite a pleasant day. We looked for the orca whales at a spot where they are supposed to be numerous, but it is a bit too early in the year for them and we only saw a few dolphins. Hopefully we will see the whales on our return south.

Alert Bay is a good place to visit if interested in the history of the First Nations. The U’mista Cultural Centre, opened in 1980, houses the potlatch collection of native items which were confiscated by the Canadian authorities in 1921 when potlatches were outlawed. Such is the sensitivity still surrounding these events that we had difficulty understanding the exact circumstances. Potlatches were occasions for intertribal meetings and celebrations among the native peoples, at which many gift items would be exchanged. Tribesmen wore elaborate masks and headdresses, and carried coppers, as stories were told in song and dance. These coppers were sheets of copper made into particular shapes and represented wealth. Their value increased every time they changed hands, until they could represent the equivalent of hundreds of blankets. It seems that by the early 20th century the ex-colonial authorities regarded the potlatches as occasions for debauchery and complained they could last for months, so determined to suppress them. The artefacts were eventually handed over by agreement as bail for those arrested for holding a potlatch, and most were transferred to various Canadian museums. However, their loss continued to be felt as a tremendous cultural and financial blow by the Kwakwaka'wakw people, and by the 1970's the tribes were able to press for their return, which was eventually agreed on condition they were kept on display. So the U'mista Cultural Centre at Alert Bay is a treasure house of their artifacts which can still be used again for ceremonies. Incidentally, U’mista means a returning of something taken, in Kwakwaka'wakw language.

We found just enough room to tie up at the government dock which was near a food store, a liquor store, had electricity and free wifi connection, and was cheap. The yacht behind us was chartered by two Australian couples as part of an extended holiday in Canada. The owner was also on board as skipper and head chef and bottle washer. There seem to be a lot of Australians holidaying in Canada. They seemed disconsolate that summer weather in British Columbia was much worse than winter weather in Australia.