Cruising Howe Sound and Indian Arm

The SSISC cruising fleet motored all the way to Silva Bay that Saturday in August. ALMUNCATAR, WHISPER, SANDPIPER, SPIRIT DANCER, SLY FOX, GULF WINDS and  HECTOR II rode at anchor the first night out and dinghies ferried sundry Saltspringers back and forth between yachts and docks.

In the morning two of the fleet turned back to tend to previous commitments. The rest crossed the Straights in a good wind, and after playing tag with cruising ships, ferries and assorted tugs in Vancouver Harbour, continued all the way to Deep Cove where DCYC's custodian rolled out the welcome mat in his customary friendly manner.

It turned out to be quite a family event. Several yachts received sons, daughters and friends, some of whom joined us for a day or three's cruising.

Indian Arm makes an excellent day trip. Candace and I, having lived in Deep Cove, provided commentary on the VHF as we passed interesting sights ("That's were cousin Janice lives."). We tied up at Granite Falls, covering the Keep Out sign, climbed over the padlocked chain at the ramp and joined the dozen or so other boaters who were splashing in the clear waters below the falls. Lovely couple of hours with picnicking and general enjoyment.

Great sail back for another pleasurable evening with dinner on dock. 0730 departure because of tides. Whisper got about a hundred metres off the dock when Yamaha coughed to an annoying halt. Several hours were spent at the local marina getting water cleaned out of the carburetor with Gulf Winds standing by. The others proceeded to Coal Harbour for a tour around the West End.

That afternoon the fleet rode the tide out through First Narrows and the wind carried us to Fishermen's Cove and WVYC. This is a crowded facility but they managed to squeeze us in. The next day we fiddled around Howe Sound and spent the night at Halkett Bay with swimming and general relaxation.

A passing historical note. A friend and I went back to Gambier Island in September to see if a common childhood memory could be relived. We were not disappointed. She was still there ... the Sir Thomas J Lipton of Tea Clipper fame. The name plate was gone, but there was no mistaking the rotting remnants of this piece of nautical history. If you are interested, look at the very end of West Bay.

Weather 3 forecast small craft warning and gale. So, knowing it would be calm, three of us started across first thing, leaving  SLY FOX and  SANDPIPER to the joys of Gambier Island. We made for Silva Bay from where Candace flew to Vancouver to meet a prior commitment.

The Hanna Air float plane had something wrong with the rudder on the back of the pontoons. It was still awfully gusty, and during several unsuccessful tries at turning downwind, the plane worked itself so far into the north west bay that a boat had to be dispatched to assist in maneuvering. Candace, who is not a good flier told me afterwards that she now understands what is meant by the phrase "There are no atheists in the cockpits".

I naively allowed myself to be directed to the moorage closest to the pub. The first couple of hours after turning in that evening were almost tolerable; but as the patrons got drunker the volume of the racket centimetred upwards.

The Richter scale is used for measuring vibration in the ground. The Decibel scale is used for measuring vibration in the air. Both of these are logarithmic - which means that each value (say 4) represents ten times as much energy as the previous value (in this case 3). To illustrate: My estimate of the racket from the pub would be 110 dB (about the same as a departing 747) and normal conversation is 65 dB. Subtracting, we get 45. This means that the noise the drunks made involves approximately 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 (45 zeroes) times as much energy as two people talking together. Those who question my grasp of the scientific principles involved may be assured I have done considerable research in this area.

Being a patient and understanding sort of person I left it until 01:00 before rousing the manager and demanding to be moved. He was very pleased to see me and eager to accommodate; but wisely pointed out that the wind was such that attempting to maneuver in the confines of the marina without benefit of tug boat assistance would probably be catastrophic.

Despite a trying night, I was my usual charming self next morning. While breafasting I listened to Weather 3 who had replaced its linguistically challenged voice synthesizer (Georgia. Straight. North. West. Two. Five. Knots) with a newer version. In appropriate deference to our cultural heritage and Canada's recently assumed position in World Affairs, the synthesizer had been re-programmed with a Europanto accent. Europanto, for the information of those who don't keep up with current affairs, is the de facto Esperanto of the European Common Market. A sample:

Que would happen if, wenn Du open your computero, finde eine message in esta lingua? No est Englando, no est Germano, no est Espano, no est Franzo, no est keine known lingua aber Du understande! Wat happen zo! Habe your computero eine virus catched? Habe Du sudden BSE gedeveloped? No, Du esse lezendo la neue europese lingua: de Europanto! Europanto ist uno melangio van de meer importantes Europese linguas mit also eine poquito van andere europese linguas, sommige Latinus, sommige old grec.

The synthesizer spoke of weather trows and mudderate winds in certain ayries. Personally, I'd prefer all official announcements to be made by Norwegians who have no accents. Since then Weather 3 flirted briefly with yet another synthesized minority voice - that of a female with enlarged adenoids.

The morning news broadcast reported on our premier's threats to declare war on the US Navy. Apparently he believes he is in a position to prevent the yanks from preparing for WW II off Nanoose Bay. Such delusions are normally associated with the terminal stages of of certain STD's. Another news item told me that if you live in Louisiana you may now legally kill someone who attempts to steal your car.

By the way, how come there has been no settlement in the incident of a few years ago where Chilean submarine, under the command of a US officer, ran down and sank a Canadian sailboat in Canadian waters? The world is full of apathy. But I don't care.

The run in through Gabriola Passage is always exciting. Fortunately the wind was still enthusiastic, and we were joined by  GULF WINDS, who had detoured via Newcastle Island, for a brisk run home.