Author Archives: Melissa

In Danger of Getting Old

Posted on by

I was lying on my back on the floor, head hanging over the top of a hard yoga roll, the kind people use to relieve back tension. My neck was killing me because I’d been going nonstop for three weeks getting ready for this big garage sale we just had. I knew as soon as the sale was over, my neck would be suddenly better. I always seem to hold my stress in my neck, as though I’d really like for my conscious self to be separated from my body.  That’s when this thought came sidling up to my conscious mind: If it weren’t for this whole sailing plan, I would be in real danger of getting old.

A life filled with all kinds of celebrations.

A life filled with all kinds of celebrations.

Not just any kind of ‘old’. We’re all going to get chronologically old. We can’t help it, living here on the planet as we do. No, I’m talking about the kind of ‘old’  where your best days are behind you; the kind of old where you have ‘stories’, most of which revolve around the glory days when the children were too young for the world to have damaged them yet.  I am referring to the kind of ‘old’ that causes people under the age of 35 to have glazed over eyes as you begin with, ‘When I was your age….blah blah blah…walked five miles through snow drifts the size of Everest… blah blah blah…television…blah…rock and roll..blah blah’.

It occurred to me that if it were not for this plan to go sailing, I might grow old and die right here in this house, surrounded by all the stories of the detritus of a life well-lived in the past, but only marginally existing in the present. If it weren’t for this little cunning plan, I might drift aimlessly through to the future and out the door into the beyond.  I shed exactly two small tears and as they hit the floor, I got up and went back outside where the rain was ruining what was left of our garage sale. How darkly poetic.

One of many tables.

One of many tables.

If you’ve been reading our blog for long, you know that I never planned to have a garage sale of any kind. My plan has been to have an estate agent come in and take care of things for me so I wouldn’t have to deal with things like going through baby clothes, toys, collectibles – all the THINGS that have created their own special gravitational pull over the course of a long and happy marriage and family life. While we were away for our month on Galapagos, that plan began to change gradually. I began to feel as though I could mentally, physically, and especially emotionally handle it, and, in fact, that part of me looked forward to it. Life has so much more room to breathe on the boat, so much space to be nourished and to grow robust in its fullness. August has been a month of flinging open closet and attic doors and ruthlessly clearing out things that I thought were special, but turned out to be average.

Claire made this shark head when she was working for a 'sharky' insurance company. I didn't think this was special, but my friend did.

Claire made this shark head when she was working for a ‘sharky’ insurance company. I didn’t think this was special anymore, but my friend did. She will be a shark for Halloween.

During our month of peace and quiet, boat swinging at anchor, bears on the shore, the better part of me began to emerge in about the third week;  ready to engage in the process of letting go. These things simply cannot be rushed if one is to participate joyfully from a place of readiness. Sometimes it is earnestly hard to trust the internal process. We struggle to become something we are not long before the time of blossoming into our dream for ourselves. We watch what others do and say ‘why can’t I?’, and yet, we cannot. We listen to our own internal critic and say, ‘I must.’, and yet we don’t. Others cry, ‘Procrastination! Just do it! It’s so easy! You’ll be so glad!’, and yet, they are wrong because timing is everything.

I’ve said it before: all people deserve to have their own level of suffering and struggle before they can be ready to move on to something new. This is true in all things, in my experience, even while it is frustrating for both the observer and the observed. While others who have gone before us can encourage and cheer from the side, it is a rare thing that their experience changes ours. I have lived long enough to know this. And still it has been difficult to have patience with myself. It has also been fearful to think of what the future would hold if we did not take some kind of leap into it; it we did not hold tight to that rope swing and jump off the rock into the pool of the future. Either jump or keep standing still forever in that place. There is no going back.  Poised on a precipice, it’s easy for fear to get the better of us.

I jumped. Now gone are the special hand made quilts, the 26 Beatrix Potter figurines, the toddler castle set, dolls, jewelry I never wear, a zillion tools we don’t need, and probably 50 frames and framed prints. Those flew out the door. Dumb bells, a skate board, and a knife in a sheath went home with a 10 year old boy and his dad. Gone is a cement leaf planter I made that would have sold for over 200$ in a garden store. I got 30$ for it, but it will be enjoyed by another gardener for a long time. I batted barely an eye at any of this.

A dealer bought all the figurines that were not already sold via my Facebook event ad.

A dealer bought all the figurines that were not already sold via my Facebook event ad.

And my sister, who came and worked all day at the sale,  buoyed me up when I got a bit emotional seeing an old friend from those glory days of Andrew’s young boyhood. It was wonderful to see her, but I was dangerously close to feeling old in that moment, as was she. I’m afraid tears began sort of trickling down my face and I had to pull myself up short. She took home a special picture I had a deal of trouble parting with. It had hung in Claire’s bedroom her entire childhood and I still loved it. As a symbol of our family when we were young, it was perfect.  But it cannot go on the boat, and it was sitting in the back of a closet. I feel good that Rosemary will have it to remind her of how much fun we had back in those days, having tea and watching our kids play ‘restaurant’ together. Life is even more precious when our stories are shared by others.

clairespicture

This was always above Claire’s bed as she grew up.

We’ve been in this planning mode for several years now, dreaming and making small moves toward the day we get to cut the dock lines and go adventuring. We sold Moonrise, bought Galapagos, and all of that was easy compared to dealing with a family home. But, onward we go. We are making the leap into the unknown and trusting that we land on our feet. This is the year of having faith that things will work out, if not as we expect, then at least well enough for us to continue. By the skin our our teeth we might just avoid becoming the kind of old that shouts ‘our best days are behind us’.

Bumbling Bear Cove, Bedwell Sound

Posted on by

If you sail up the fjords of Clayoquot you will be surrounded by incredible beauty. Mountains rise on either side; mists hang, shrouding tops of trees.  In the summer, the sky is blue and the weather can be fine. If you get the chance, it’s well worth the trip to travel up those fingers of water. It’s enchanting and we spent a bit of time just pinching ourselves because it felt a little surreal, all that magnificence. We know we got incredibly lucky on the weather. There is never a guarantee that you’ll have sun, much less that it will be so warm.

Sailing up Tofino inlet

Sailing up Tofino inlet on a hot, sunny day. It was one of the finest sails we’ve ever had.

The thing about sailing up those inlets that is worth knowing in advance, however,  is that there are precious few areas that are protected from the considerable winds that whoosh up from the ocean, and good luck finding a protected anchorage. By the time the wind gets to the top of the inlet, it has built up a nice head of steam and can be rather gnarly.  This is what happened each time we sailed up into the fjords in Clayoquot Sound. We’d have a lovely sail up the sound thinking we were going to anchor at the head where we could explore the river flats as they empty out into the salt water.

Another pretty view of Tofino Inlet.

Then we’d get there and two things would happen. First the wind would be blowing 25 knots, enough to make getting the sails down very exciting. Then we’d discover that we would have to anchor in at least 60 feet of water to have enough room between us and the land. Does that sound like fun to you? I know we are prone to ‘anchoring outside the box’ but no thanks. No rest for the weary and nothing to prove, we’d turn and motor into the wind back down the inlet, all in a good day’s exploration.  It is times like these I am grateful for Galapagos’ girth. She glides like a river queen; confident and strong.

Going up Bedwell Sound.

In Bedwell sound we knew that there would be a resort that took over the river flats at the head. They also took over literally the only decent place to anchor a boat. There was one spot on the opposite side that we thought would work as the depth was pretty good, but we tried twice and couldn’t get the anchor to set. There was an old wreck of a boat on the shore right there, so, perhaps that didn’t bode well for the holding power of an anchor at that spot. Frankly, it felt like solid rock to us. Still, we did try.

We were a little disappointed we wouldn’t be able to kayak around the flats, but on the other hand I’ll bet there are plenty of mosquitoes there and I had already been bitten enough to look like a toddler who’d crawled through brambles. I tend to scratch. Maybe giving that a miss wasn’t such a bad idea. Who knows what we could discover somewhere else?

The river flats at the head of Bedwell Sound.


This area, which is to port when you get to the head of the inlet, is where there would be a pretty good anchorage. Except now you’d have to anchor right by their dock. That seems a little unfriendly to us. We moved on.

Knowing we wanted to spend the night in Bedwell sound, we had been on the lookout for possible spots on the way up to the river flats. One had a smallish sand beach next to an eagle’s nest high in a dead tree. We headed for that but it was a no-go. Too deep, too close to crunchy rocks, too exposed even for us. No sleep would be had there.

Eagle in craggy tree.

I headed across the inlet to a group of islets we had seen on the way up, knowing that was as good as it was going to get if we wanted to anchor in the sound. Nosing our way behind a group of large rocks, we found the perfect place. About 45 feet of water, enough swing room for Galapagos to be comfortable and keep her butt off the rocks, and a magnificent view, plus it looked like decent kayaking. Pleased with ourselves, we dropped the hook.

Best. Anchorage. Ever.

As I was preparing for a little cockpit siesta and Kindle time, this happened:

Loved this so much!

And it just kept happening. Mom and baby nosed along the shoreline and, after checking out Galapagos per the photo above, didn’t give us another look. We were absolutely delighted. We had bear watching time for about 30 minutes, followed by more bear watching later that day and the next as two male bears made their appearances along the same route. The entire trip was worth it just for this place.

I’ve got a million of them.


Adorable!

This is an unnamed cove on our GPS so we’ve named this Bumbling Bear Cove. I don’t know if this counts, but we’re staking our claim here. And there is a very small cove next to it where a shallow draft small boat could anchor nicely. We think that one should be Cub Cove.

Shoreline of Cub Cove. You would, of course, avoid that rock.


Male that visited the following day.

Taking the kayak out onto the sound, I kept thinking to myself, ‘Here I am. In my kayak paddling on a fjord, watching bears from my seat on our sailboat. Wow. That’s amazing.’.  And I felt very lucky, indeed.

Looking up Bedwell Sound from the kayak.

 

Benson Island – Best of the Broken Group

Posted on by

Better sit down so you can deal with the shock of what I’m going to tell you. Be calm. Don’t get up and walk out, stomp off, or slam doors about this. Just hear me out. I know it’s almost a sacrilege to say that the Broken Group, as a rule, just doesn’t do it for you as a cruising destination. But with the exception of Benson Island, this group of islands leaves me feeling a little ‘meh’. Whew. Glad that’s off my chest.

Tide pool at Benson Island. The colors are astounding, and unmolested by software. This is really how they look.

Compared to the Gulf Islands in the Salish Sea, these islands look like they just emerged from the depths last week. There is nothing gentle or time-worn about these lands. There are precious few landing beaches, but plenty of big hull crunching rocks. True, the water is practically sedate there it’s so protected. So, in terms of a quiet anchorage where you can lay around and read, they are very hard to beat up there on the west coast. But there isn’t a whole lot of variety among them. To me, they kind of all look alike. I can only do so much kayaking among giant cedar trees before I’m ready for something different.  Yeah, sacre’ bleu, etc.  I like the Deer Group so much better.

Except for Benson Island. There is nothing sedate about Benson Island. This is one wild and cool place where all your senses will be engaged. Put that Kindle down, baby, because we’re going ashore!

For your comparison. Jarvis Lagoon between Jarvis and Jacques Islands in the Broken Group. No place to go ashore here. Not even a little bit unless you want to clamber around on slippery rocks.

Another tide pool on Benson Island. I never get tired of them.

So happy to see purple sea stars living here!

This was our second visit to Benson Island. We visited in 2010 with our last boat, Moonrise, a Cal 34. The anchorage at Benson is small, with room for only a handful of boats and it’s not particularly well protected. There are many sharp and pointy rocks with big teeth, land sharks.  On the east side of the island is a cove with a sand and pebble beach complete with rocky tidal pools and the big driftwood people up here know and love.

View from Galapagos at anchor off Benson Island. Yes, fog coming in from the Pacific.

View from Galapagos at anchor off Benson Island. Yes, fog coming in from the Pacific. High tide. Ocean is around the corner to the right.

With wind generally coming in from the sea, you are protected from the worst of the wind and swells, but be sure of your anchor holding before you go ashore. We anchored in about 30 feet, give or take 5,  with good holding and with plenty of swing room. We were the only boat there. Although our holding was good, it’s exposed enough at that anchorage that we always felt better keeping an eye on Galapagos and were pretty relieved to find her where we left her. Anxiety is a bitch. (Just FYI for other cruisers, we never leave her unattended until we are certain she is staying put. Unless the wind changes. Unless the current changes. You know the drill.)

Galapagos in her natural habitat.

Once on shore you are in old growth forest and can take a path toward the beach between Benson and Clarke Islands. From there, if you are in the mood, you can walk and climb along this beach to the woolier side of the island where the rolling Pacific meets the shore. This path takes you through a clearing with sedges and grasses to the site of the Tseshaht village that used to stand here. The Tseshaht people consider Benson Island to be the place where their people originated, so this is a holy island to them and it feels every bit of it. Some of the cathedrals in Scotland brought similar feelings up for me.

Up and into the wild woods.

Since our last visit in 2010, the tribe has installed a lovely carving representing the First Man. As a tribute, or perhaps as an invocation, people have left gifts from the natural world at his feet. We thought this was lovely and wanted to participate, asking the First Man for his permission to explore the island and for his protection while we did so.  We found an empty paper wasp nest and placed this at his feet with thanks for allowing us to visit this beautiful place. When an island is full of spirit, it’s best to acknowledge that with a humble heart.

The First Man carving. He is really a handsome statue.

Offerings to the First Man. I hope his spirit appreciates the wasp nest we found.

When we were there five years ago, there was a sort-of trail that crossed the island, although I remember pushing through some rather dense and tall salal at one point. At that time, camping had been prohibited for only a year.  Five years later we couldn’t find any kind of trail that crossed the island. Now that camping is not allowed, perhaps they are letting the trail go. You can push through brush to trudge across the island if you want to, but we didn’t want to leave Galapagos for that long.  And we are 5 years older. Maybe that had something to do with it.

During our hike on our visit in 2010 I remembered that we had seen a lovely buck standing in the sunlight, filtered through the trees. He had been standing looking down at us as we walked along the ridge that crosses the island. I decided to climb up to the ridge, using shrubs and ferns as handholds, and see if I could find a trail in that area. Instead I saw his grandson. Or maybe his son.

He was completely undisturbed by my presence.

We are never overly concerned about predators in the wild, but we ran across this scat and wondered what could have left it. This is a small island and has an obvious deer presence. We wondered if something was keeping their population in check. Do you know what this is?

The larger piece of scat was maybe 4-5 inches long.

Something else precious about this island is that there are remains of petroglyphs on a rock outcropping near the anchorage. The outcropping is under the roots of a large tree.  In 2010 I discovered them as I was examining the rock and was completely taken aback when they kind of jumped into my view. I found them again easily.  They are a fascinating reminder that ancient people lived here. Archaeologists have determined that native people lived on this island as long as 5000 years ago.

Look closely toward the middle of the photo, a bit to the right.

Here’s a closer view. On the left/center you will see a salmon skeleton. On the right is a figure of a person.  Above and to the left of the salmon there is a sun. These are extremely faint and in person much easier to discern.

After checking into Ucluelet, a visit to Benson Island is a great way to start your tour of the Broken Group. But if you think the rest of the islands will be like this one, you’ll be disappointed. They are too protected, too new, and are not washed and scoured like Benson’s shores. Benson Island represents the best of the wild Pacific islands in this area, along with the Deer Group on the Bamfield side of Barkley Sound. Be ready for all your senses to tingle, and if the wind and weather is right, you’ll have a decent night’s sleep in this anchorage. Be sure to pay your respects to the First Man and give thanks that you, too, have the good fortune to visit this beautiful place.