June 21, 2022
[ 99 NM, 5 hours ]
In our quest to get to Desolation Sound and take advantage of morning waters, we headed out before 7 am. The kids were anxious to swim and even if they had been willing to swim in the 56 degree waters at Princess Louisa, it was full of Lion's Mane jellyfish. Click the photo below for a great article from ThoughtCo. on them. Of course one of ours had to go poking at one, with no repercussions, but Dave made sure to warn him to wash his hands before heading to the bathroom. Knowledge he could impart from first hand experience. While they aren't listed as poisonous, the stings are painful and can cause a rash from allergic reaction.
Back to the topic, our next location is Gorge Harbour Marina Resort and the home of a swimming pool safe from rash inducing sea creatures.
"The lion's mane jellyfish is the world's largest jellyfish—their bells can be over 8 feet across. Reports of tentacle size in lion's mane jellyfish vary from 30 feet to 120 feet"
Our trip out of the inlet was with light rain, and while still as beautiful as when we fell asleep, I was feeling fortunate on timing to have enjoyed our introduction with some sunshine and cloud cover a day earlier. We decided to live on the edge and see what the Malibu Rapids had in store for us, rather than time slack tide. There is a short video from my view at the helm below. We, again, crossed without incident. I am not here to advocate for throwing safety to the wind in crossing. Our boat can power through for speeds that are faster than the rapids were at the time we crossed. Heed all warnings about slack tide and etiquette of other boaters (we had none upon entrance and exit).
We cruised most of of the channel at 26 knots on smooth water, slowing down to navigate debris and kelp beds. It was the most efficient the boat had ran since leaving Poulsbo. Despite the rain, it was looking like our initial destination of Lund could be bypassed and we could head directly to our first stop in Desolation Sound, Gorge Harbour. This is a day earlier than we had planned.
Waters started kicking at Jervis Inlet. The seas were rolling, but not unbearable, so we throttled on to head north in Malaspina Strait. The waves were steadily between 3 and 5 feet for the duration of the strait. It was said out loud, by me, that we could still stop at Lund for the night. Ultimately, we agreed to forge on and stay the course.
This is when I saw a fender that looked an awful lot like ours being taken away.
We tucked inside of Savary & Hernando Islands, but it gave very little break from the constant waves. About the time we were through Baker's Passage and rounding Sutil Point on Cortes Island, was when the conditions really started talking. I'm a poor judge of how big the water is, but it was feeling like some Pirate's of the Caribbean Kraken kind of stuff. Having been very diligent on my recording of our days, I grabbed my phone to take some video from the stern view (but safely planted inside). This is when I saw a fender that looked an awful lot like ours being taken away. We keep that fender in the dinghy, so the waves must have kicked it right out of the tender. Or so I thought in that moment. The waves had in fact kicked the carabiner on the bow of the dinghy to a point where it had unhooked itself.
"Uh, Dave - the dinghy is loose."
I was instructed to take the helm and keep us pointed into the waves so that least amount of water was taken at the stern, but also stay in neutral as much as possible so that I wasn't powering away from the dinghy.
Worse than having to be in this water was to be in this water and not have Dave be able to power us in the best direction out of it. At this time, it was all hands on deck'ish. Dave hollered (the kind of holler that you know you shouldn't take your jolly time with) to the aft cabin for the kids. Dave and Cole hit the swim step to start trying to recover the dinghy that was half attached to the davit system. They first had to traverse the Special K crumbs from the cereal container I had failed to secure. I was instructed to take the helm and keep us pointed into the waves so that the least amount of water was taken at the stern, but also stay in neutral as much as possible so that I wasn't powering away from the dinghy. No easy feat and it was compounded by the fact that I have NEVER put our boat in gear.
[ Side bar: This trip was to be the trip that I would learn to run the boat and for the specific reason, that in the event of an emergency, I could safely get us ashore. We hadn't gotten to any of my education time. There's no better way than to be thrown into the deep end, right? ]
I couldn't see any of the recovery activity. Leah was in the galley holding down dogs and passing verbal "hollers" from Dave to me and me back to Dave. This was the time that I am hearing the tone of the hollering change. Dave is yelling grave warnings to Cole to keep himself out of the way of the line (this all ends in no injury!) and I'm hearing some "we are f'd on this" kind of statements. Apparently, the scene on the swim step looked like Dave nearly having the dinghy hooked back in place, while at the same time we had neutral turned in a direction that gave the dinghy a 6' whoosh of sea water and weight that the cable couldn't sustain. The cable broke loose.
Now this stern show was getting a new ending. The cables weren't strong enough to stand the weight of what had transpired, but they are strong enough that you can't cut them free with a knife. Cole is at the winch remote listening for instructions to an impossible situation. With the weight of the dinghy, the circuit breaker for the winch had popped. Dave was able to sway his way to the engine compartment and climb in to reset it, to only have it pop once they made a second attempt. This is where I lose Leah, my communication carrier, to assist as the human breaker popper fixer.
"it was beating the holy dog shit out of the boat and it was going to rip the bolted davit right from the swim step".
At some point during this, what felt like hours but was in fact only 12 minutes, ordeal we started winning and Dave was able to get the dinghy tied off to the port side cleat to tow it in while also getting it free of the davit. At one panicky point, Leah had asked me why we weren't just leaving it behind, but as it was explained to us "it was beating the holy dog shit out of the boat and it was going to rip the bolted davit right from the swim step".
We could see the small opening to Gorge Harbour's protected marina from the 6 NM where we were having our morning disaster. With the dinghy in tow, we slow motored into the marina. We were a day earlier with our arrival than we had reservations, but the resort was available, accommodating, and as everywhere has been, very helpful. Stories were heard of the small number of boaters, as well as a BC ferry, coming in through this same route having a tough go at the conditions. All in all, the damage was minimal and resulted in a cable needing replaced and fixable fuel line damage. The more expensive repair is going to be the purchase of a boat that accommodates a tender in a very different way.
The rest of our day was spent at the pool, hot tub, the laundry room (there are like 8 units in it!), and the Floathouse Restaurant. The food was really delicious. I don't know if that was because I though I might not get another meal, but I think it was the ahi tacos.
As I sit to journal this with my cup of coffee, the sun is making an appearance and Dave opened the sunroof. It appears the waters from the day before had accumulated in a way we hadn't experienced before and by experienced I mean they poured on top of us. Fitting.
I have only one picture to share from our day and it is a view of the slayed beast as we prepared to tie to the marina dock.
We will spend 2-3 nights here, while exploring places on Cortes Island.
