Back to The Spit

Volume IX: Back to The Spit As you remember, way back when we last wrote, we were headed for Surge Narrows, a skinny rapids (197 feet wide at its minimum) that must be navigated only at or near slack water, the duration of which varies from five to eleven minutes. Not very long! We timed our arrival perfectly and transited easily with no other boats to contend with in the confined channel. We can imagine how stressful a transit might become when there are many boats wanting to go through at the same time. The Narrows deserves respect. We were aware of a boat that got hung up on Tusko Rock this summer, so we were very cautious. Mr. Tides, a tide and current software for Macintosh, helped us plan our timing. GPSNavX, our computer charting software, plotted our course on the BSB chart with coordinates from our Garmin 48 in real time. We send our kudos and thanks to Rich, the author of GPSNavX, and to August, the author of Mr. Tides, for their fabulous software! The day was mostly sunny with a faint breeze, not enough to sail until we reached the end of Hoskyn Channel when we rolled out the jib briefly to take advantage of a more defined flow of air of 20 knots from the NW. It's either no wind or a lot of wind around BC! We were considering seeking shelter in Village Bay to escape the wind, but when we turned the corner at The Spit, we could see that there was smooth water inside its arm of scrubby trees. Rebecca Spit was vacant of boats so we chose the "prime view" anchoring spot at the opening in The Spit– looking east across the northern reaches of the Strait of Georgia to the layers of mountains on the mainland. We hanged the bow anchor to our 33-pound Delta and stowed the Northill. The Northill is a great anchor– lightweight, easy to set, and it has never dragged. It wrapped up a loop of the rode a few times, so we started using a ten pound lead ball as an additional weight on the rode to increase the catenary. At Von Donop we lazily tippy-toed around our anchor and, even with the extra weight, the Northill came up so entangled in the rode and chain that it looked like a Chinese string puzzle! We decided to trust it only when we stern-tied ashore. When Rikki-tikki would be swinging in different directions with the changing tide and winds, the Delta could be trusted to hold without fouling and we would sleep better. We had the afternoon open (what else is new?) so we launched Darzee and motored over to Heriot Bay for groceries and wireless internet down in the Inn's laundry room while running a load. Another boat down from the Octopus Islands was at the marina. He latter came to The Spit and anchored real close to us (what else is new!?), but Clark warned him that we had a lot of scope out so he pulled a line to a log ashore and backed away. I managed to get a photo of the view before he arrived and planted himself in the middle of it. We spotted a little fleet of colorfully-painted Harlequin ducks, four drakes with six in their harem. We'd never seen Harlequins before; we strained our eyes admiring them. The drakes are stunning to look at and impossible to photograph– so shy. Another sailboat came in just as evening arrived but he chose wisely and allowed plenty of swinging room for both of us. His boat is the counterpoint to the gorgeous sky we all enjoyed. Rikki-tikki-tavi made big arcs over the water as the tide came and went, rocking a bit with the Whaletown ferry wake, but the wind remained calm. Fall was in the air and the guests at the resort were lounging in the sun overlooking the harbor. Kayakers paddled about and campers walked their dogs along The Spit trail out to the tip. The color of maple leaves turning vibrant hues accented the hillsides. It was a relaxed atmosphere, no crowds of cruising boats from the US bustling in and out of the marina, just the locals coming out to enjoy the peace. In all, we made three trips to send and receive email, download the latest version of GPSNavX, and do banking online. Thank you, Heriot Bay! A big low pressure system was predicted to bring strong SE winds, so we took Rikki-tikki to Heriot Bay for fuel, once again squeezing him in backwards between the ferry landing and the docks. Clark can maneuver him into some very small spaces! The ferry comes in just beyond the little floating store on the right in this photo. Gorge Harbour, on the south side of Cortes Island, beckoned with promised protection from SE gales and we hadn't been there yet, so off we went, motoring along under, yet again, amazing skies. It just doesn't get boring! Each day's atmosphere and appearance is surprisingly different from the one before. Even when it's silvery gray or raining, the infinite variety of reflections, shapes and light give us much pleasure. I was hoping to see Shark Spit. We had to pass by it, through Z-shaped, tricky Uganda Passage, on the way to Gorge Harbour. I wanted to see if it was the place I remembered visiting while cruising with my grandparents as a teenager. The low-lying spit back then was so thick with live sand dollars of every size that there was little room for sand! It was impossible not to crunch them as one walked. We spent a sunny afternoon there, fascinated by the multiple layers of the spiny creatures, marveling in their purple billions. We lined up rows of graduated sizes, from the tiniest, smaller than ones baby finger, all the way to specimens a couple of inches across. Now I feared that they would be no more, but the time wasn't right to find out. The tide was very high and Shark Spit was hidden beneath the waves. I would have to wait for another visit, hopefully when a gale wasn't on its way. If we could buy an island, this would be the one. An islet next to Shark Spit, it has just the right combination of rocky outcroppings and protecting trees, a small bay for Rikki-tikki, and a great location for a house with a dynamite view. There was already a house there of course, with a guest cottage no less. Someone else owns Clark's Island. Fair winds, Clark & Nina