Day 20

After enjoying Wally’s hospitality at Hartley Bay, we left early the next morning at 5:00am to catch the current setting through Grenville channel. This narrow, straight channel running northwest for over 35 nautical miles has an interesting current that turns out to be a lifesaver for low powered boats passing through, and that is that instead of flowing either north or south wit the flood, which would make it impossible for any small boat to get through before the current changed, the channel floods from both ends, so if you can time it right, the flooding tide will carry you halfway up, where the ebb will then carry you out the rest of the way.

Today we were motoring the pretty much the whole way, right up to the end where we left Grenville channel. That I not to say however that the day was without incident, for at one point in around 11:00, while dad and I were both in the cockpit, we heard an ominous splash, and as soon as we whirled around, I saw disaster waiting to happen.

The servo blade for the Cape Horn self steering gear had somehow gotten into the water, and as the engine was running, could swing into the sinning propeller at any second, potentially damaging both quite badly. Together, dad and I lunged to the transom, where he slowed the engine and tried to kill it, while I tried to lift the heavy oar out of the water, fighting against the pressure created by the boats forward motion. Both of our efforts were not enough, and the blade swung over towards destruction at the prop, and I was bracing myself for a crunching, sickening jolt as it was cut apart, but all that happened was a quick tap and the blade broke away on it’s bungee lashings designed to spring up if it got fouled in seaweed.

I pulled the wayward piece of gear up out of the water and breathing a silent thank you to the manufacture’s forethought in adding the break-away feature, I saw that the only damage was a 2-inch nick in the leading edge and the propeller later turned out to be virtually undamaged as well. Also on closer inspection it appeared that the lashings holding the oar up out od the water had broken earlier, most likely last night when we used the grill, which the lines were touching, then had worked itself loose with the vibrations from the motor. We were quite shaken up by the incident, but as they say, all’s well that ends well, right?

The rest of Grenville channel passed uneventfully, with only very minor course changes and a few more instances of the strange algae, but as we neared more open water at the northern end, we got a little bit of a variable wind that helped out the motor and we broke out the big genoa for the first time in weeks, poling it out wing on wing with the boathook. Near our destination of humpback bay, we were passed close on the starboard side by a huge blue-and-white Holland America cruise ship, a sign that we were approaching the major cruise destination of Ketchikan, AK.

Finally, we arrived at Humpback bay, having, with the help of the currents and wind only burnt three gallons of gas, though the engine was running all day. Humpback bay was a neat anchorage, with dilapidated abandoned buildings and docks all around, good holding, and a very strange catamaran high and dry at the head. The catamaran was way up where the bay dries at low tide, and looked almost like a Polynesian style boat, with two low hulls with a sweeping sheer and a surprisingly clear deck considering the boat must have been at least 40 feet long. Also, the rig really puzzled me as it had three short, stayed masts, all the same height, and impossible to tell what kind of sails. The boat however, was to remain a mystery because I did not want to blow up the dingy to row ashore, and besides, we had Wally’s fresh-caught halibut, breaded and fried, to eat tonight.

That night, with our bellies full, and snugly anchored up over 40 feet of water, we prepared for the border crossing the next day, getting all of Darwind’s paper in order, then using the glimmering of cell coverage we got from prince Rupert to try to figure out crew after Ketchikan, where dad would be leaving to go back to work. Eventually, we formed the plan that at least for a few days out from Ketchikan, my 26 year old cousin Jason, who was working in Ketchikan would sail, then I might be on my own for a few days before meeting up with either my mom or another Tristan, a friend who we had gotten to know really well in Seattle while we fitted out the boat. Whatever the crew situation turn out, we decided it would be better to get a good nights sleep for a long day tomorrow and hit the hay early for our last night in Canada.