Author: Tessa Aydelotte

… is performing boat repairs in remote locations.

We believe the majority of our friends and staff have a vision of us having a grand time cruising and enjoying the beautiful weather, sun bathing, catching fish, and all around enjoying life.

Well, this IS true, but it is only half the picture.

Boats are a lot of work on a daily basis. If at anchor, you are monitoring your batteries’ charge, always checking your swing (when we do a perfect “donut” we cheer, as this denotes a good hook), monitoring your water and fuel usage, and waste buildup, making water (we love doing this!), checking fluids on both main engines and both generators, wiping down the teak after the rain or dew in the morning, oh and then just your daily normal house chores on top of all this.

Boats are also meant to be used, and the majority of the boats out there are only used for maybe two months a year. When pumps, motors, engines sit unused, things tend to go awry. In the same breadth, if a switch, pump, motor, engine is heavily used (and then throw in there sitting for eighty percent of the time), things tend to go kaput.

We were diligent about running systems on a monthly basis since we came back from last season’s cruise. However with the age of our boat (she’s a 1992) and the fact that she sat for a couple years before we purchased her last year, is a recipe for things to fail.

It can be as simple as corroded connections (that was our bow thruster and port alternator last season). Or a fuse that may have blown (this season our macerator pump, and the pump for our reverse air system), and hope you have a replacement fuse in your inventory on board. Or a switch that went kaput because of age (our bow thruster switch on the aft steering station, the v-berth light switch), which you Jerry-rig with what you’ve got on board. A sanitation hose has failed (we now have extra sanitation hose on board). The pump that moves the davit crane left and right failed from age (and we only used it once this season!).

Let’s mount the external Iridium GO antenna, she said. Running wires after the fact on a boat is never easy. This proved to be one of those “easier said than done” projects. The motor that lifts the aft lazarette where we stow the 50amp power cable and fenders failed. Tom Jerry-rigs two switches that you press simultaneously to activate the motor, as the diodes have failed. The aft lazarette hatch is mainly rotted wood, so you have to solidify where the arm that lifts it attaches for the newly Jerry-rigged electrical to the motor to work for the whole assemble to be functional again.

As we say, there is ALWAYS something to be worked on, on a boat. And on a somewhat regular basis we ask ourselves, why are we doing this?! And then we have a speculator day; whether it be glorious blue skies and calm wind, the fishing being hot, or seeing a humpback open it’s humongous jaws right next to the fish boat feeding (their breath stinks!), or being able to share these experiences with friends. These days are the days that keep us boat owners, and make the never-ending list of projects and repairs seem like a short manageable list.

The Broughton’s are truly special. From the rugged wilderness, to the charming resorts, to the fishing/crabbing/shrimping, to encountering wildlife, we were excited to share this little slice of heaven with our good friends from Palm Desert CA who reside in Vancouver BC.

We started in Turnbull Cove, and were surprised that there were only three boats anchored in this popular spot the first night.

Glass conditions in Turnbull Cove.

We shot roaring hole rapids, on a flood and an ebb (having been through these rapids multiple times, we had local knowledge).

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We crabbed and shrimped in our “spots”, and we had the spectacular experience of seeing a pod of nine orcas transit through Mackenzie Sound up to Nimmo Bay, and being the only boat floating along with them. It turns out they were sleeping for a portion of the time we were with them – three hovered at the surface in shallow (60ft) water. There was also an adorable little baby in tow.

These whales are takin a snooze.

Tom and Venetia, Bill and Tessa, out gunkholing

And Portia, enjoying this calm anchorage in Turnbull.

Our intent was to stop at Nimmo Bay for massages and dinner, but they were booked for the month of August. We later learned from another boater that you need to plan your reservation one year in advance. In the past years, a months notice had been sufficient. Apparently we are not the only boaters who have discovered and enjoy Nimmo Bay … !

Sullivan Bay was next on the itinerary; Debbie, Laura and Cody were welcoming and remembered us from previous seasons. They still do orders for turnovers and sweet rolls, as well as happy hour but they ran out of golf balls. One of the highlights for us was taking a swing at a floating green (depending on the tide and current, closer or farther away) at the end of happy hour for a free night’s moorage. Since we had a scratch golfer amongst us, we thought we’d have a good chance. They also do dinner M/W/F, make a reservation in advance as they fill quickly, and new this season lunch daily.

Golden Hour and Sunset at Sullivan Bay.

Of course to round out our cruise for our friends new to the Broughton’s we went to Pierre’s for the famous pig roast. More shrimping and crabbing, gunkholing and a walk to see the legend Billy Proctor, and the highlight of the cruise: spending a day with Survivalist Nikki Van Schyndel.

We have been cruising up in the Broughton’s for eight years, have been to two of her talks, have read her book, and kept somewhat up-to-date on her blog. She was most recently on the TV series Alone Season 6, surviving in the Arctic. We have talked with boaters over the years who have done an eco-tour with her, and said it was an amazing experience. What better fun than to do a tour with Nikki with our good friends?

Tessa inquired with Tove at Pierre’s Echo Bay if Nikki is still doing tours, and the answer was unfortunately no because the First Nation have shut her down. The gist being they do not like her having more knowledge about their area than them, and giving tours based on this local (First Nation) knowledge. This was truly disappointing, especially on the heels that Nimmo Bay was not accepting anymore boaters for the month of August. However Tove sent Nikki an email with Tessa’s contact info on the off chance she would like to spend a day with us.

And as it turned out, Nikki contacted Tessa, and the one day she was available was the first day we were at Pierre’s Echo Bay (she lives around the corner). Tessa emphatically responded to her, and we were truly happy and honored that she reached out. We downplayed spending a day with Nikki to our guests, but made sure they had read some of her book, read her blog post about her TEDx talk or watched her TEDx talk, and also had read some of Billy Proctor’s book about the history of the area.

And what a blast we had. We foraged our own ingredients for lunch at non-First Nation owned land. Nikki describing the plants and seafood as we foraged, along with other plants that we did not forage that can be used for medicinal purposes, nature’s toilet paper, or nature’s facial. She also gave us some background on the local Echo Bay bears, pointed out the beach where Captain Vancouver first stepped ashore in the Broughton’s and was greeted by the First Nation, as well as other former First Nation village settlements (all but one there is nothing left for the naked eye to see), and some of her favorite spots to explore in the Broughton’s.

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Nikki was the one that squealed with excitement and exclaimed that the orcas we saw were sleeping, after we described their movement (or lack thereof). And also was super excited to hear from us about a former Neighbor of hers in Echo Bay’s new residence: at Jennis Bay.

We happened to chat with him on our day trip up Drury Inlet, we popped into Jennis Bay to see how things were going. He told us to watch out for a momma grizzly with three teenage cubs. They had been roaming around the property a couple days ago, and he pulled his gun out for defense and it only had four bullets. The rule of thumb is you always have one bullet for yourself, but with four bears he was short a bullet. So he decided if he missed a bear, only being able to kill three of four, and if the one disgruntled bear left alive happened to catch him and start gnawing on a limb, he’d use his pocket knife to go through his own temple and twist.

As Nikki was picking some spruce tips to boil in water for tea, she had a fond story or two to tell us about her former neighbor. And maybe she’d have to make a trip over to Jennis Bay to see him on her day off. This gave Tom a chuckle, and he said, wait, what do you mean your day off? Which caused her to erupt in laughter, because, it’s not like she has a set work week and “days off”.

As we cruised around the Broughton’s with Nikki looking for a coarse sandy beach (you could probably count them on two hands) to cook lunch on, she told us some history about the Broughton’s and the current political situation. After three tries for a vacant sandy beach (she couldn’t believe there were people on all of the beaches), we shared our beach not with other humans, but a black bear. We heard him a couple times, Nikki saw him, but he never came over to cause us ill will.

As Bill picked soon-to-be “crab croutons” from the water, and Tessa and Tom stripped cedar bark for fire starter, Venetia with Nikki’s help made fire. Bill then kept the fire stoked as Nikki prepared a fabulous lunch from the greens we foraged, with the addition of coconut oil, brown rice, dried berries and kelp.

It was pretty spectacular and special to spend the day on an uninhabited island with a view out to Blackfish Sound, eating a meal mainly from ingredients we foraged, and talking with Nikki about her experiences. This is something we’ll talk about for many moons in the future. Thank you, Nikki, for choosing us to spend a day with!

Nostalgia, Luck, Insanity

These words all describe Rivers Inlet.

Historically, River’s Inlet has been known for their big fish. This stock of Chinook salmon is so special, that about a decade ago DFO Canada made a Special Management Zone at the head of River’s Inlet. Here you cannot use downriggers or flashers, and instead of two and four, it’s one Chinook a day and two annual. It is not uncommon for a boat to fish five rods from sun up to sun down, and not catch a fish. It is also not uncommon to release fish, as you’re only allowed two for the year, hedging your bet that you’ll catch “the” big one on your next hit.

For us this is our first time here since 2012, seven years ago. Dawson’s Landing has barely changed, just aged. There are still crazy fishermen, three to four living on a twenty foot boat, that leave at first light and come back at dusk. The fish caught are still few and far between, just smaller in size.

Fishing River’s Inlet brings back nostalgia for us. Tom’s Father brought us and Tom’s brother and his wife up for a fishing trip to River’s Inlet Resort a few years before he passed. It was Tessa’s first time fishing, Tom’s Father’s last time fishing, the awesome float plane flights over BC’s beautiful coastline, and of course the luck of catching “the big one”. From hospital visits to visitors at home in hospice, Tom’s father proudly talked about and showed photos our big fish. It drove Tom’s brothers’ crazy that all he talked about was that damn fish.

Our first time here was in 2008, at River’s Inlet Resort, which no longer exists. The alders have taken over, and only a discerning eye would be able to see that eleven years ago a resort existed at the head of the river.

Back then, 40 and 50 pounders were common. 30 pounders were considered small. This was Tessa’s first fishing experience, and she came out the other side a fisherperson. We caught the largest salmon in Canada in 2008, an 80lb white Chinook salmon. In a ten foot Livingston, no electronics and a nine horse kicker. We just won the jackpot.

This was the largest fish in twenty-three years, and the next 80lber was caught five or six so years after. These are special fish.

Everybody told Tessa at the resort she should stop while she was ahead, she’d never catch a bigger fish. But she was hooked. Once you hit the jackpot, even knowing your lesser than slim odds of a repeat, you continue try because of how sweet it was.

Gone are the days of “combat fishing”, only one of the four resorts in operation in 2008 are still here fishing the head. The last resort, Good Hope Cannery, is now a private fly-in resort for friends of the owner.

The talk on the dock at Dawson’s Landing is that the first week of August is peak. Tessa mentioned the full moon was not until about August 16th this year. They responded it didn’t matter, these hardcore fishermen were set on the first week of August being the prime time. Dawson’s was booked full for this week. We were here days before this and only about ten boats were working Marker 16, about a quarter of the docks were full. We remember when it’d be fifty boats, all vying for “the spot” to hook a fish.

Now, it’s all about luck. Being in that right location, at the correct depth of the thermocline, at the exact right time, to convince a big ol’ lazy Chinook that it’s hungry and wants to eat. There’s a lot of dragging cut plugs in the water, and not much action.

The fish we saw caught were all in the 20s. That is small for this “big fish” fishery as we remember it. As we were mooching along, intimate with every nook and cranny South of Marker 16, Tessa paraphrases a passage from Dark Star Safari by Paul Theroux to Tom.

Theroux ultimately does the most touristy African thing you can do: he goes on a safari. The owner of the particular safari he went to used to operate it as a big game hunting resort. He then saw his operation as not viable, as the hunters prized the biggest specimen of each species. Leaving the smallest, weakest to survive and reproduce. For each of the species to thrive, they needed the strongest and largest alive and breeding. So, he shut the big game operation down and turned it into a wildlife preserve. And he was successful, not just monetarily but in helping the all the species thrive.

This is exactly what the River’s Inlet fish needed, but twenty years ago. The largest Chinook needed to be released so the population could thrive. Instead, the largest fish we pulled from the gene pool leaving the smaller fish to reproduce. Thus, Tessa believes that the population has shifted to smaller fish.

Tom calls the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. Well, we did that three days in a row. We tried afternoon fishing, Gentlemen’s morning fishing (not getting up at oh-dark-thirty), and then getting up at oh-dark-thirty. We worked the holes where in 2008 you were guaranteed to pick up a hit. We tried everything. And at slack on the third day, Tessa got a fish on.

When you have had a drought of bites for three days, you’re almost in a daze what’s happening. Tessa is typically the first to the rod, but in this instance she just stared at it in disbelief and Tom was the one that grabbed her rod. He then handed it to her, she was uncertain if she had the fish or the bottom, and then it ran “deep” (well, down as we were in 40ft of water). She let it run, but then it ran to towards the boat. As this fishery takes finesse and knowledge that we were rusty on, we couldn’t get the boat in gear fast enough to help keep the line taught. And also possibly in conjunction on not “setting the lure” strong enough, the fish spit the lure and had a tasty cut plug herring in its stomach.

You had your bets laid on the craps table, and won a small side bet. It was enough to keep you playing for a while longer. Then you cashed out. Until next time when you’d try your hand again, seeking that right roll of the dice and the correct bet played. Which keeps you coming back again and again. Darn it.

In three full and two half days of constant rain, our rain meter (a pickle bucket in the cockpit) showed 3.5”+ of water. That’s a lot of water.

As we waited out the liquid sunshine and Gale force winds, we thankfully had the foresight to put the bimini up on the Riverhawk. So we tinkered about our anchorages, mapping the bottom (as the charts need help, and we can submit our data to Navionics who will then update the charts), dabbling in fishing, a little crabbing, and exploring lagoons.

The first morning after a steady twelve hours of rain, Tom said, that sounds like a river behind us. But we had gone gunkholing the afternoon before, and neither of us saw a river. Did the southerly Gale winds materialize, and that’s what we heard? We poked our nose out to try some salmon fishing, and it wasn’t the wind. A gunkholing trip later on showed us a rushing waterfall fall at the head of our anchorage. Tom was correct, there WAS a river in our backyard!

A solid period of rain like this also alerts you to the leaks in your boat, as water always has a way. We were looking like Swiss cheese; the two known leaks were leaking, and Tessa found a third in the v-berth (Tom deduced the starboard forward cleat was leaking) which also led us to see that our winch was leaking ever so slightly into the anchor chain closet, the mid-ship stateroom had a failing porthole (which led us to check every other porthole for leaks), and there was a mysterious drip above the TV in the cabinet in the salon. Nothing we could do but damage control while we had another two and a half days of rain. But glad we were aboard when we did have a serious amount of rain, so we knew the extent of the holes in our Swiss cheese. It has made us re-think the order of our major projects we have lined up for the next two years.

Day 4 started out like the last three, but it was supposed to clear mid-morning. Well, that didn’t happen. But it did clear by mid-afternoon, and boy, were all three of us in serious need of Vitamin D.

We started out in the sun stopping the leaks through the forward starboard cleat, which also led us to identifying some stainless rails that were loose that we tightened, followed by stopping the mid-ship stateroom aft porthole from leaking. And then for our poor “lettuce paddies”. There were no holes in the bottom of the planters, so they looked like rice patties. Tom had Tessa near tears laughing from his reference, as it was true. So we drilled holes in one end near the bottom and angled them so the water would drain. Even they needed some Vitamin D.

Feeling good about our productivity, we decided to take on one more afternoon task: tightening a bolt on the guest head vacuflush motor. Well folks, one bolt opened up a can of worms. It wasn’t the loose bolt, it wasn’t the duck valves (Tom replaced one for good measure), we (as in Tom) had to remove the 1.5” semi-hard plastic piping from the vacuflush motor to the holding tank and have sewage splash in his face, along with the foulest stench that initially sent Tessa running. She couldn’t open up enough portholes, hatches and doors fast enough for a cross through wind. We had a blockage compounded by an old pipe having calcified fecal material constricting the inner diameter of the tube.

Nurse, prepare the coat hanger. A combination of high pressure water, a coat hanger, a half inch diameter tube, physical force, Tessa turning up empty handed with draino, no cell service or WiFi to google homemade draino, and no spare 1.5” tubing, what do you do? A little bit of baking soda, two ounces of Coca Cola, a little time to for the reaction to occur, then repeat steps A, B, C and D. And after an hour (baking soda and Coca Cola being towards the end of this hour) of wrestling with a blockage in a 2.5ft long tube, voila! This shitty blockage is cleared!

Not exactly how we planned to spend the better part of an afternoon, in a shitty situation, but we still were able to get in some gunkholing to map this anchorage early evening.

The reviews in Navionics left by users and the information given in Waggoner’s Cruising guide are all lies. Goldstream Harbour maps mainly at 80ft of water, not 30ft. We had thrown the hook down close to shore in 40ft of water, hoped for a bite on a rocky bottom, and sat in 85ft of water. Not ideal, but with us being the only boat in the anchorage (again!) if we dragged, it wouldn’t be that big of a problem. It potentially could be, as previously noted it IS a rocky bottom, but, hopefully we’d catch our drag before we were in any danger.

Four days ago, after dragging anchor in a crowded anchorage, failing to set the anchor in another, and setting it in tight quarters between shallow rocks on an uncharted bottom, all in rocky bottoms, we would have freaked out about our current anchor situation. Now, well? Let’s see what’ll happen. And yes, Mark, we even dusted off Chapman’s to make sure we were properly anchoring. And the answer was yes, we were.

We weren’t sure how far North we would go this summer, we knew it would be at least the Broughton’s. When we were at the Cortes Outstation in Desolation Sound, two boats were headed to the Central BC Coast. Come on around (Cape Caution), they said. It’s beautiful, the fishing’s great, you’ll be fine, they said.

After provisioning in Port McNeill, the weather forecast to transit Cape Caution looked candy. Tessa convinced Tom to go North.

We weren’t quite as prepared as we expected. The charts for the Broughton’s and points South are pretty well charted. Up here on the Central BC Coast, not so much. In our Navionics charts, users can leave public notes about anchorages and narrow passages. Almost all said something to the effect: rocky bottom, not at all what the chart says.

Great. It was like being back in the Bahamas. No local knowledge, and untrustworthy charts.

Tessa kept hearing Don Douglass’s name being mentioned. He must have wrote a book about these waters. With no cell service or WiFi, she couldn’t Google him. While she was reading the introduction in Waggoner’s Cruising guide (typically she just flips to the cruising area of interest), she saw an inset that talked about Don Douglass and Reanne Hemingway-Douglass who spent 35 years cruising the West Coast and the PNW waters, and recorded what each bay looks like and the best anchorage spots. This was the book we needed.

The Environment Canada weather forecast is for McInnes Island to Pine Island, a large area of coverage. We’ve learned that the wind and weather can be completely different than forecasted. As we were leaving Shearwater a Gale warning was in effect. The guy at the marine store didn’t flinch, he said, we don’t pay attention until 60 (kts). We like to pay attention so we don’t get blown out of an anchorage, being able to use Windy or PredictWind in addition to Environment Canada’s weather forecast would be a nice to have.

As there are limited docks, you are doing a lot of anchoring. Which we love. When we are able to get the anchor set. The majority of these bays are rocky bottoms, and/or depths beyond 60ft. We tried four times in two different locations in one bay to set our anchor, just to watch and feel it bounce across the bottom. Three hours later, we ended up in a different anchorage, equally rocky a bottom, but were able to get her set (we think). We watched ourselves do donuts on our Navionics for the next 36 hours. A pattern that was comforting to see.

After we got passed popular Hakai Institute and Codville lagoon, we have been the only boat in the anchorages we’ve chosen. To have whole anchorages to ourselves to enjoy the natural beauty around us, we have truly been spoiled.

There are nice to haves, that would make cruising up here much more enjoyable and less stressful for Tom. Satellite TV – being able to watch the weather, the British Open, the Tour de France, maybe the news once in a blue moon. A cell booster, so we could pick up cell service in a bay where we had none, but it was close by. And a fixed antenna for our iridium go, so we could at the minimum still be reached if necessary by our staff and family when we were completely off the grid.

One thing that caught us by surprise was the water temperature. In Eagle Harbor, Bainbridge Island, it averages 58F. In Desolation Sound, where the water does not flush, the average is mid-60sF and if it’s a hot summer can push into the 70sF. It’s not unusual to see people jumping off their boats into the warm water. The Broughton’s water temperature is cold, low to mid 50sF. And this was what we were expecting on the Central BC Coast. We were shocked to see 64F water temperature. We also noticed just about everywhere had a thermocline- a distinct layer of freshwater on top of the saltwater. After a couple days of Tessa reading through the Waggoner’s Cruising guide section for this area, she put two and two together. It’s not glacial water here, it’s hot springs water! The hot springs in this area are plentiful. Thus her conclusion why the water temperature is so warm, sometimes warmer than the air!

Shearwater is the destination on the Northern BC Coast for recreational boaters if you have issues. They have a marine store, mechanic, haul out, and ferry service to Port Hardy on Vancouver Island. Also cell service and great WiFi. Boating here on the Northern BC Coast is not much different than the Bahamas. If something goes wrong, hopefully you have the tool or spare part aboard and the handiness to fix it. The difference between the two areas: the willingness and comradeship of fellow boaters. We are all in this together.

Shearwater is also a mandatory check-in point on the Race to Alaska. For racers, Shearwater is also a place to fix gear if necessary.

The fishing resort had brand new (since Tom was here last) buildings, the boats looked like they could have been the same boats but with updated gear and outboards. There were only seven anglers written on the board – seemed a little light to us seeing how we should be in-season.

Grocery store and marine store were well stocked. We had a good dinner at Fisherman’s, although they suffer with what every restaurant does these days: finding good staff.

While turning the corner to Shearwater, we listened to two boats talk on VHF radio who had a common friend. Which Common Friend 1 left at Shearwater with a bad alternator, they were hoping to have it fixed within the week.

We thought we were here just to see the Shearwater fishing resort. As we docked it turned out the boating Gods had a different idea. Our stern steering station bow thruster switch decided to go kaput. Something that is not crucial, but makes docking a whole lot easier.

As we were getting settled on the dock, another boat was asking the boat next to us if they had any steering lubricant. They did not, but Tom chimed in that he did. And asked if he might have a large crescent wrench to work on our rudder stuffing (we developed a leak, or discovered a leak, while at the Cortes Bay Outstation). Tom then chimed in, oh by the way, where’d ya put your anchor (it was not on the bow of the boat)? He replied he left it right out there (pointing to the anchorage) in a storm. He’s working on fixing the winch, and will recover the anchor when he’s ready.

For better or for worse, you are always here at Shearwater for a reason.

We struggled with whether we wanted to push past the Broughton’s. After six years cruising these waters, we are now comfortable about where to fish and our preferred anchorages. We have local knowledge.

The waters North of Rivers Inlet are unchartered for us. To gain local knowledge takes time or money, or luck that a fellow boater will cough up their secrets.

Tessa was lucky to have struck up a conversation with a Captain aboard the boat stern to stern with us in Port McNeill. She was able to receive twenty five years of local knowledge- their favorite anchorages and fishing holes- along the Northern BC coast. This information is invaluable.

We were both excited about anchoring off the Hakai Institute. Visitors are welcome ashore, and there is good fishing in Hackai Pass. Tessa noted both fishing lodges that had boats at the entrance to Hakai Institute were not using downriggers. We were not expecting this. We have the gear to go downriggerless, but our rods are not ideal.

There are so many nooks and crannies around Hakai Institute, we saw lodge boats fishing in a variety of places. Back to ways to gain local knowledge: time or money or luck. We both thought of going to one of the lodges and seeking advice in exchange for money. Local knowledge is key.

There is a short walk from Hakai Institute to what is acclaimed in Waggoner’s Cruising Guide as a down right tropical beach in sunny weather. Tom scoffed as Tessa read this, a beach in Northern BC that is comparable to a tropical beach??

Sure enough, we discovered it by running around trying to find fishing holes. We’ve never seen as fine of sand while cruising the Inside Passage. Waggoner’s was right, it was almost a down right tropical beach. On the Northern BC Coast.

The other Mother Earth feature we’ve only experienced cruising here by Hakai Institute is the rocks. The lines vertical and so definitive but smooth edged, and then one large rock stacked like is should roll from its sitting position. To Tessa it reminded her of Joshua Tree National Park. Both showcasing the beauty and awe of what Mother Earth is capable of.

We “knew” two boats anchored nearby. One was a friend of a friend who said to look out for said friend, and the other was a fellow yacht club member we had seen at Cortes Outstation. We said hello to the friend of a friend, looking for local knowledge. It was either a) his first time fishing here, too, or b) not willing to be of help on how to fish (downriggers?) and where.

As we were going out to fish the beginning of the flood tide the next morning, we ran into our fellow yacht club member just coming back in from fishing. He told us where to go, if we could fish with downriggers, and what they were biting. Along with places near Shearwater to anchor and fish. Exactly the information we needed. We got lucky, again.

And boy did we have fish on. We had about ninety minutes where we could barely keep our rods in the water. Tom would have a fish on, Tessa would pull hers up, a fish would hit her lure on the surface. A fish would spit the lure, another would pick it up. Double headers. Releasing fish, keeping select few. Exhilarating. THIS was fishing. Northern BC Coast, this might be our first date, but it may be the beginning of a long relationship.

The further North we travel, the less connectivity to cellular service and WiFi equates to more card games, yacht zee, and book reading. As Tessa started Dark Safari by Paul Theroux, the quote in the title of this post rang true to cruising the Inside Passage.

Hoping for the picturesque, expecting misery, braced for the appalling.

There are three unavoidable bodies of water to reach the Northern BC Coast. The first being the Strait of Georgia, which we have had our a** handed to us many times. This time: we could have waterskied.

We spent two days at Cortes Island, and were sad to hear that the Squirrel Cove Restaurant is no longer. We were hoping to celebrate our anniversary here, but would have to wait until Blind Channel Resort which has a fabulous German restaurant.

The second unavoidable body of water is Johnstone Strait and the set of rapids that precedes it. These rapids intimidate most boaters, but if you go through at slack, you’d only slightly pick up signals that these small bodies of water can be vicious. Johnstone is notorious for NWterlies pummeling down the mountain lined channel, picking up gusto as they move through the strait. This time: we again could have waterskied. Bonus: We caught the end of a Spring Ebb and had a three knot push most of the way.

We tried our luck fishing Blackfish Sound, and it didn’t look optimistic. We spent two nights in Port McNeill re-provisioning, and enjoying another good meal at the Northern Lights restaurant. The rain showers came, unloaded, and went. Timing your outdoor activities was key.

Cape Caution is the third and final hurdle (unless you are continuing North to Alaska, you have Dixon Entrance). The rule of thumb is to monitor West Sea Otter buoy reports, and pay attention to the wind forecast for Pine Island to Egg Island with the candy conditions 1m or less ocean swell.

All reports looked good for a morning crossing around Cape Caution. The sea was glass, patchy fog, lots of debris in the water as we transited Queen Charlotte Strait.

On a Spring ebb tide, it is not advised to transit Ripple Passage and the entrance of Slingsby Channel. Slingsby is one of the largest bodies of water that transits a narrow passage: Nawakto Rapids. We concur with this advice, as we transited Ripple Passage and Slingsby Channel at the peak ebb of a Spring tide. We surfed significant swells for quite some time, just on the edge of uncomfortable but no green water.

Once past Slingsby and rounding Cape Caution, the low westerly swells reminded us of cruising in the Bahamas. They were definitely not 1m/3ft as forecasted. More like 2+. But stabilizers made it easy peasy. We were back in the swing of ocean cruising.

Hoping for the picturesque, expecting misery, braced for the appalling.

And picturesque we got in spades at Frypan Bay. We were the only one in this popular anchorage, with sunshine and a light wind. We felt like we had just hit the jackpot.

We have been stopping at Nanaimo Port Authority on our way North and South cruising for the past nine years. This year, we added Rad Power electric bikes to the boat. These bikes broaden what we can do when are tied up in a marina, and allow us to adventure further, or easier, than on foot.

We learned a lesson the hard way, that we hope we can save you from learning the same way.

After a wonderful dinner at La Stella Trattoria, we decided to bike down to Port Place Mall to pick up a few items we had forgotten on our earlier shopping trip before heading back to the boat. It was 9pm.

While riding around, we have become used to receiving constant compliments and inquiries about our Rad Bikes, and will answer any questions you might have. So it did not set off a red flag when some people who looked like they had fallen on hard times said “nice bikes!” as we road by them in the parking lot to Port Place Mall bike rack. It did alert us to lock them up securely with our cable lock, and we went inside for twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes. We came outside and our hearts sank. There was no evidence of our bikes ever being locked to the bike rack. It was broad daylight.

Tessa noted there was a security camera that may have caught footage of the thieves who took our bikes. We talked to security, and sure enough they had good footage of one but the second was wearing a hoodie. And they recognized the first person.

The security guard suggested going on a couple closed Facebook Nanaimo crime watch groups, and posting about our bikes. Because they are so unique, they are easy to spot. And the more traditional route was also taken, we called the non-emergency RCMP phone number to report our stolen bikes.

This is where the Nanaimo community rallied around us. Tessa was accepted into two closed Facebook groups by 11pm, and a third the next morning. Across the three groups our post was shared over 800 times and seen by thousands. We had gone viral.

By 8am, a member of Thieving Nanaimo Facebook group had spotted one of our bikes hanging out the back of a trunk, chased the car down, and retrieved our bike. Let that sink in. Our bikes were stolen at 9pm, and the first one was found at 8am.

Our second was spotted being ridden midday, but the lead went cold. We could not speak to an investigator until 5:30pm, because only the investigator assigned to our case was allowed to give us information and he was on the night watch shift.

So the waiting began. Or the “round-to-it” boat projects. We fixed, again, the guest head. And also ran a new VHF antenna cable from the flybridge to the pilothouse. Easier said than done, as it involves crawling in cabinets to feed the wire through an already packed chase.

7pm. We made the long trek to the marina office to settle up for moorage, and learned about an extensive street fair in progress that happens every Thursday night. We decided to check it out, with the goal of walking the outskirts to see if we could spot our bike being ridden.

We have learned a lot about the underbelly of Nanaimo in 24 hours. There is a huge drug and homeless problem, with not a solution in sight. Petty theft is rampant. All looking to get their next fix. And once our eyes were open to this, it was easily spotted.

7:20pm. Our investigator finally had a chance to go to Port Place Mall and look at the video footage. He recognized the thief. A second phone call: we were asked if we’d like our bike back today, or prosecution. As we are here on holiday, we took the former. He gave us the intersection of where it was stashed, and we met him there.

The first bike was missing the front wheel (assuming they took it off to make it fit in their car). The second bike was missing a bolt to hold the front wheel on (they also disassembled it). A few scratches and dirt on both, but other than that after a scrub they were as good as new.

On our walk back to the marina, we were stopped by four police officers and multiple members of the community who have all been on watch for our second bike. Everyone we talked to was so elated that we were able to recover both bikes. So were we.

We asked a couple locals if it is like this in other cities on the island, say Campbell River or Pt McNeill. They could not confirm, but did say this problem is not unique to Nanaimo. It is everywhere on Vancouver Island.

So fellow boaters. Learn from our mistake. A cable lock will not protect your bike. Know how to lock your bike up correctly, as they will strip what parts they can from it. Be aware of your surroundings.

We cannot thank the community of Nanaimo, and the greater Canadian community, enough for rallying around us and making it possible to be reunited with not one, but both bikes.