Day 18

Today, similarly to yesterday began with a motor in the flat calm of the early morning to a fuel/water/grocery stop at the little first nations town of Klemtu. This was a sleepy little town whose only economy is fishing and selling fuel to passing boats.

Since the town dock was full, we sailed around outside the little bay to the fish pier/fuel dock where we tied up behind exactly the same two boats that are shown in a picture in the Waggoner’s cruising guide. Since we had some time to kill before the currents in Graham reach of Princess Royal channel, we walked into town and back, but didn’t stop at the big house across from the harbor. After our walk I returned to the boat to update my blog, while dad went looking for the grocery store, only to find it about 500 feet away on the pier! We ate lunch at the only restaurant in town, when we both had some big, greasy burgers before finally heading out into the rain once more.

It was right about 11:00 when the torrent began. It had been drizzly and wet all morning, but once we left the fuel dock at Klemtu it began to pour as only it can in the Pacific Northwest. At least we could have Ray on and steering most of the time, but overall it was the most miserable day of the trip so far. Standing or sitting out in the exposed cockpit, sometimes motoring, but mainly under sail with a 15 knot following wind, within five minutes We wee completely soaked. But at least we were cold, wet miserable and sailing, and the last condition is really all that matters.

Due to the high degree of cold and general miserableness, for the first time on the Darwind a kind of watch system was developed. Out of Klemtu I took the first three hours, relinquishing the con to dad, and diving below to strip of layers of heavy, soaked Gore-Tex. This was actually the first time I had spent more than about half and hour off-watch in the past 15 days of sailing, and as a result, I felt really strange just sitting there reading of writing as the boat sailed along. I kept thinking that I needed to relieve dad, but in reality he had just taken over for me. After about three hours below, I once more layered on my cold wet foul weather gear, which actually felt worse than just wearing it in the rain, and took over for the last stretch.

 Taking that off-watch was the first time that I realized how much I had really been sailing the boat by myself already, and was amazed and kind of proud to realize that I really was sailing up to Alaska, not just tagging along after my parents any more. Also, the scenery was amazing sailing past the sheer mountainsides, their flanks wrapped in wispy curls of steam and mist, and the tops shrouded in thicker clouds. In many places swollen torrents of water rushed over cliffs and rocks, smashing itself to bits before pummeling into the channel. At one valley on Princess Royal Island, there was a stream the plummeted of the top of a sheer cliff of 1500 feet, disappearing before it hit the bottom as the wind scattered it’s broken water. In another place, I was reminded of a diagram we had looked at in science class showing the water cycle, and I could clearly see, at one time, evaporation, of both sea and trees, precipitation, snowmelt, first-order streams flowing together, a lake, and finally an outflow back to the ocean, all on just a short ¼ mile stretch.

After one last bought of rain, we entered Khutze (koots) Inlet just as the rain was letting up, and because of the extremely deep nature of the region, we were forced to anchor on an underwater spit sticking out from the side of the Inlet, with questionable holding and an extremely exposed position. Luckily,  it was like glass in the Inlet and we were fine, and the view looking around at the snow capped peaks rising directly from the water a hundred feet away was very dramatic. (I just wish the bottom of the Inlet didn’t drop away as dramatically as the sides rose up).

Once we were safely anchored up for the night, we dove below and immediately started cooking in an attempt to heat up the cabin, but as we were feeling cold and tired decided to just make some of the freeze-dried food we had stored on board for just such a contingency. Despite the slightly watery texture of the Three Cheese Chicken Past, it seemed like the greatest meal on earth as it’s warmth slowly spread throughout my cold limbs.