The Inside Passage

Rounding the Cape

To reach the “Inside Passage”, vessels must leave the relative calm of Queen Charlotte Strait and travel the open waters of Queen Charlotte Sound, where 8 foot swells test the endurance of boat and crew. Cape Caution looms ahead, as well as other daunting place names – Fury Cove, the Storm Islands, Grief Bay. Here, winds and currents can change suddenly to create dangerous and uncomfortable conditions. But for us the Cape is calm and the shoreline sparkles under the sun which struggles out by midday. Reaching Miles Inlet for the night marks the official beginning of the Inside Passage.

The Inside Passage

The Inside Passage is a complex maze of channels, passages and islands which thread up the coast of B.C. and the Alaska Panhandle. Deep inlets slash into the mainland, snow-capped mountains line the narrow fiords, and spring runoff creates endless cascading waterfalls into the sea. While safe from the violence of the open sea, funneling winds, strong currents and numerous rocky reefs make navigation challenging. We are thankful for the modern navigation instruments we have on board, in particular the GPS Chartplottter which locates our boat to an exact position on the globe, displayed on proper navigational charts. It also maps the profile of the ocean underneath us, so we always know of the hazards that lurk beneath.

Our anchorages are unforgettable. Fury Cove, in spite of its name, is a calm and serene spot with a bone white shell beach, although a 3-minute walk across to the Fitz Hugh Channel side reveals a twisted log strewn beach, evidence of stormy days. The following day we detour up Kwakshua Channel to Hakai Passage, anchor for lunch and then take a short hike to a gorgeous beach overlooking Queen Charlotte Sound. The sand is silky soft, like flour, the sand dunes at high tide lined with wild strawberry in bloom. Wolf tracks snake down the low tide line and rocky islets lie a short distance off-shore. This is Canada at its best.

On our 8th day we reach Shearwater during a light drizzle to refuel and purchase a few provisions. We have traveled 370 miles – over a third the way.

North to Prince Rupert

In the days that follow, the two boats settle into a routine, weighing anchor around 0600 in order to take advantage of the favourable currents, which can easily add a knot or two to our cruising speed of 6 knots (one nautical mile is slightly more that one mile on land). The weather improves, and the sun emerges each day by noon and, because of our early starts, we are able to drop anchor by early afternoon and enjoy the warm afternoons snoozing and reading in the cockpit.

We pass out of the ancestral homeland of the Kwakiutl peoples and into Tsimshian territory. The village of Klemtu appears busy and prosperous, its beautiful long house indicative of a community proud of its heritage. The mountains get higher and snow pack lower. We see our first grizzly bear, with cub, as we anchored next to a cascading waterfall in Khutz Inlet. Larry was out in the dingy close to shore when man and beast made eye contact, at which time the bear ran full tilt towards the shore, with man paddling furiously away from shore. As it turned out, the bears were trying, successfully, to reach the safety of the river, where they swam to the other side and into the trees.

One of our next stops in Bishop's Bay. Pam says it's named after her grandparents .... right! Fresh caught crab and chilled chardonnay for lunch. Anyway, there is a lovely hotsprings there that has been developed, as in small dock, change “house” and concrete walls on the two pools, each a different temperature. We forgot swim suits!!! But wait until the coast is clear and go au natural. After a long soak, we sleep like babies, even though there is a chop banging on the boat.

Exiting Douglas Channel after refueling in Hartley Bay, Larry is startled at the helm as 3 humpback whales leap from the water in unison about 200 feet off the bow. We try to get a good photo, but often one misses a great emotional experience by fiddling with a camera. We watch them feed for a while, satisfied with our nature experience for the day.

Nettle Bay offers up another waterfall, lots of bird life, an ancient fish weir, and the wharf remains of old fish cannery, one of dozens that once dotted the coast before mismanagement destroyed the resource. The four of us take a short hike to view the roaring falls.

The weather continue to bless us, with sunny warm days. We can't believe it. We slow down our pace because we are making such good time. Our last night before Prince Rupert is Klewnuggit Inlet, yet another place name starting with “K”, indicative of the native languages once spoken here. The last leg is mostly in thick fog that the sun cannot burn off until noon. The radar is a blessing, but can't see the numerous logs that float about, many big enough to damage a small vessel. Exhaustion quickly sets in as the helmsman constantly watches radar, GPS, compass direction, all while straining to peer ahead into the fog.

We arrive in Prince Rupert, a harbour busy with boats, ships, and seaplanes. The marina is a welcoming stop, and we go about our individual tasks – shopping, internet, change engine oil, laundry and needed repairs to a windlass that is labouring. Larry spent 4 hours trying to fix the windlass, a rather essential piece of equipment for an aging crew with bad backs. We have reservations at the Cow Bay Restaurant, a small seaside place with home cooked meals. Yum!

We have now traveled almost 600 miles more than half way. Tomorrow we leave for Alaska. Ketchikan here we come!