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WAGGONER CRUISE, WEEK FOUR
by Bob Hale
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No GPS. An hour and a half after departing Port McNeill to round Cape Caution, we lost our GPS signal. Without GPS the electronic charting program was useless. We already knew our course and first turn (Jeanette Islands, on the mainland side of Queen Charlotte Strait), but without the computer we felt naked. Two things had to be done, more or less at the same time. First, we had to plot our courses on paper charts. Second, we had to figure out if the loss of GPS was because of external antenna failure or failure of the ancient Magellan GPS we use. If our equipment was functioning, then we had to really go to work on the paper charts.
I unhooked the Magellan GPS from the antenna and power source, installed six new AA alkaline batteries, took it out to the cockpit and pointed the antenna to the sky. No signal. Then, magically, a little signal. Then a lot. Then the latitude and longitude came up, and the numbers changed. It was working. When I reconnected the GPS to the external antenna the electronic navigation program worked again. For some reason (maybe a satellite wasn’t over the horizon, I don’t know) for about a half-hour we were back on paper charts.
One thing was reconfirmed: Paper charts aren’t a luxury, they’re absolutely essential. So are the old-time plotting skills, including pencil-drawn course lines, compass courses and their reciprocals, and distances measured with dividers. Also, the discipline of identifying points of land, islands and rocks and matching them on the chart to confirm exactly where we are. Since oftentimes everything looks the same in these waters, matching what we see with what’s on the chart can be a challenge at times.
It was an excellent drill, but we are glad the GPS came back on.
We talk with the Alaska State ferry Malaspina. Marilynn looked out the back window and reported a large vessel several miles astern, bearing down on us. We had just entered Richards Channel, a fairly narrow passage with rocks on both sides, so the idea of being overtaken was of some concern. What to do?
Well, we used the Waggoner. We opened the 2007 edition to page 31, the map that shows the VTS (Vessel Traffic Service) radio channels. The map indicated that we were in the Comox Traffic area, channel 71. Here, as best I can remember at a remove of several hours, are the conversations.
“Comox Traffic, this is motor vessel Surprise.”
“Surprise, Comox Traffic. Go ahead.”
“Comox Traffic, we are a 37-foot pleasure boat westbound at the eastern entrance to Richards Channel, just off Jeanette Island, and a large vessel is overtaking us from astern. Could you tell us who the vessel is, and its intended course?”
“Roger that, Surprise, that vessel would be the Alaska State ferry Malaspina, outbound from Bellingham, Washington. For its intended course, call them on this channel.”
“Alaska State ferry Malaspina, this is motor vessel Surprise.”
Short pause. Then, a pleasant voice,
“Surprise, this is Malaspina.”
“Malaspina, we are a 37-foot pleasure boat several miles ahead of you, and we are concerned about your overtaking us in Richards Channel. Is that your intended course?”
“Surprise, thank you for your call. Yes, we will be transiting Richards Channel. We will pass on your starboard side, leaving you to port.”
“Roger, Malaspina. Would it be possible for you to slow down as you pass, to reduce your wake?”
“Of course, Surprise.”
And Malaspina did slow down, considerably. When the channel opened up to our left we called them to say we would move over and slow down as well, to make their passage as easy as possible. Malaspina was able to move to the right, to further separate us. When they were past and had resumed their cruising speed I called back.
“Malaspina, this is Surprise. Thank you for your courtesies.”
“Glad you called, Surprise. Have a pleasant day.” Malaspina proceeded to disappear over the horizon.
Note that communications on the VTS channels are short and navigation-related, with no extra chatter. The customary “out,” “clear,” or “clear to channel one-six” endings are not used. “Over” is used, and Traffic may say “Go ahead,” when responding to a call. The important things are clarity and brevity.
We don’t talk to large vessels often, but when it’s necessary, knowing how to do it is a real anxiety-reducer. That is why the VTS pages are in the Waggoner.
Marine weather forecasts. On Tuesday at home we can plan weekend family picnics based on the 5-day weather forecast, and usually (in the summer at least) we’re not disappointed. On the B.C. coast the weather predictions aren’t quite so dependable. The farther north we go, the more changeable the weather patterns become. A low pressure area may stall or speed up. A high pressure ridge may build or fail to build. The forecast can change from morning to night.
British Columbia marine weather forecasts are revised four times at day, at 0400, 1030, 1600 and 2130. They are augmented by interim reports from lighthouses and from unmanned weather stations and ocean buoys. If we’re on the move, we listen to the weather before we leave. If we’re planning a major crossing, whether the crossing is of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, the Strait of Georgia, Queen Charlotte Strait or Queen Charlotte Sound (Cape Caution), we listen to the forecasts for at least a day in advance and definitely prior to crossing.
This morning, for example, was a good time to leave the north end of Vancouver Island and round Cape Caution for Rivers Inlet and points north. As I write this at 8:00 p.m., tied to the dock at Dawsons Landing in Rivers Inlet, the wind has built and rain is falling. The weather has changed.
Duncanby Lodge and Marina. Big changes at Duncanby Lodge and Marina in Rivers Inlet. It’s the first marina boats can get to after rounding Cape Caution northbound. Last January the owners decided to make another major investment. All the old guest cabins were torn down and inviting new cabins were built. A new wintertime caretaker’s (and summertime owners’) cabin was added. The old showers, which certainly were rustic, were replaced with new, modern showers. The rickety laundry was replaced by a new area, with brand-new high-capacity washers and dryers. The store and liquor agency were closed and the space made into an attractive lounge. The kitchen was expanded from one set of sinks to three sets, with added prep room and equipment. A fleet of new guide boats was acquired, and now line the north dock. Visiting yachties will be directed to the wide, new, south dock, which has 30 & 50 amp power and water for boat washing. Wireless Internet is available, some of the time at least. Dean McLaren, who was manager for the past two years, has departed.
It’s hard to keep up with these people. They change and improve Duncanby with amazing speed. Two things that weren’t changed are the quality of dining in the restaurant (delicious), and eager, attentive service. Visiting pleasure craft are accorded the same care as the fly-in fishing charter parties. If you stopped at Duncanby three years ago and stop again this year, you won’t believe you’re in the same place.
Goose Bay Cannery. Before we left Duncanby for Dawsons Landing we took the dinghy down the bay to the ruins of the Goose Bay Cannery, to see what was going on. In 2005 the cannery was bought by a partnership of some 30 Burnaby firefighters and friends, and we’d heard they were fixing the place up.
Our “Hello, hello!” calls were answered by Dave and Audrey Schmidt, who had arrived a day earlier to spend a week working, as required by the ownership agreement. We explained the reason for our visit, and they invited us to tie up and look around. As soon as they finished lunch they would give us a tour.
What a place. Goose Bay was built in the 1920s and closed in 1957, the last operating cannery in Rivers Inlet. Tools and equipment are still inside, although the old boiler and much of the piping and such have been removed, for safety and environmental reasons.
While there are no guarantees, if someone has the time, a tour might be arranged. Obviously, they can’t handle a stream of visitors all day long or they couldn’t get anything done. And much waits to be done.
Dawsons Landing. A few years ago most of the docks at Dawsons Landing were pretty rough, but Rob has rebuilt or replaced all of them now. Dawsons isn’t Duncanby by any stretch, nor will it be. By the same token, Duncanby isn’t Dawsons. Rob was raised at Dawsons Landing, in a floathouse next to the general store. He and his wife Nola have raised their daughters there, Nola running the store and Rob doing logging, towing, and construction work around the inlet. Duncanby is a resort; Dawsons is the Coast. Plan to relax and hang out, and get to know Rob and Nola. They’re the Real Thing. And if the spirits locker is running low, Dawsons is the resupply point. Or if you need charts, groceries, tools, parts, or a post office.
The phone service is still cranky. The most reliable way to contact Dawsons is by e-mail, dawsonslanding@hotmail.com.
Hakai Beach Resort and West Beach. The West Beach trail across the resort property is the same as described in the 2007 Waggoner. They want visitors to return from the beach and have their dinghies away from the dock by 5:30 p.m. If the resort has room, visitors are welcomed for supper. Give them a couple hours warning. Bring a credit card with ample room on it.
Namu. Pete and Rene (pronounced “Renie”) Darwin are unlike anyone we know on the coast, and we wouldn’t want to be up here without spending at least an afternoon and overnight with them. Three wonderful classic wooden boats, 50 to 61 feet long, all from Royal Van, were there for their second night. The potluck dinner, based on a fine spring salmon someone caught the day before, was a kick. There was fresh-caught crab and some halibut, as well. Too much food, though. Why is it that when women know it’s a potluck, they think they’re the only one bringing anything?
Namu is not a resort. It’s a hardworking, self-reliant community that is also very relaxed. Visitors are folded into this community. It’s kind of hard to describe. Maybe in a few years. We’ll see.
Ocean Falls. Ocean Falls has wireless Internet now, which is why I’m finishing this report (which began several days ago) here and sending it off. The sign at the moorage office says the wireless signal is poor out on the docks, and recommends an external antenna. The signal is good where we are, however, even with only the laptop’s internal card. And we’re out near the end of the dock. Tomorrow is July 1, Canada Day. A community celebration is scheduled for 2:00 p.m. up by the ferry dock—BYOE, which means Bring Your Own Everything.
Eva’s Holy Grill, at the back of the church, has closed, and Eva is cooking at one of the fishing resorts. There just wasn’t enough business to make the restaurant successful. We had dinner tonight at the café up at the Coast Lodge, where the showers and laundry machines are located. Dave Andrews runs the cafe, serving breakfast and dinner, some lunches. The buffet dinner is $21/plate. Several of the diners were loggers, nice guys with really big shoulders and arms—really big shoulders and arms—and even bigger appetites after working in the woods all day. Dinner is at 6:00, and they don’t mean 6:30 or 7:00. Hearty food, nicely prepared. No booze. Sort of like a typical cafeteria, but with good, honest, meat-and-potatoes offerings. Do it.
Later: A good crowd showed up for the Canada Day celebration, including most of the people from boats at the dock. The Canadian flag was hoisted and the Canadians (who knew the song) sang a rousing “O Canada.” A potluck lunch followed. I took these pictures of the spread and of two of the girls, with the Canadian maple leaf on their cheeks.
Dog biscuits. We meet lots of dogs, both on boats and at the stops. This year I brought a box of Milk Bone dog biscuits, and give each dog one or two. I make new friends quickly these days.
Wrapping up. There’s so much more I could write about, like the Beaver float planes that fly by, or the family from Quesnel, in the B.C. interior. They just arrived in their new 28-foot Harbercraft, five of them, counting the daughter’s fiancé, all tall and active. The new 28-footer is pure luxury. It replaces the 22-footer they used to bring out—the whole family, plus inflatable dinghy, crab traps and fishing gear.
Rain has fallen for weeks now but nobody complains. Every day filled with interest and adventure that wouldn’t happen in a week at home.
--Bob Hale
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