Kwatsi Bay enchants

The gasps of breath come a cappella from a hundred lungs around us, a concussive beat, totally random, though sometimes familiar to your ear.

A westerly carried us steadily up Tribune Channel from our anchorage in the Burdwood Group, our main and genoa wing-on-wing, perfect, and I was only vaguely congratulating myself since just yesterday every set I tried would have made few sailors proud.

Then the pods of dolphins, also heading east, began to surface; a few, then scores, then god knows how many. Some were in the distant haze, some close, some under the bow; Pacific white-sided dolphins, maybe hundreds of them, though in the distance they appeared darker and smaller and we didn’t know what they were.

Where the heck were they going, all together, maybe different species of dolphin and porpoise? I felt guilty we didn’t know.

Though by and by, the breathing faded as did my guilt as the cetaceans veered southeast in the channel and we angled northeast toward beautiful Lacy Falls, a highlight in the Broughton Archipelago. After a good rain, the falls are truly a sight when the white water opens like a fan across the face of black rock. It’s maybe the most snapped photograph in the Broughtons, and in the busier summer season cruising boats criss-cross as they hunt for the perfect shot.

A bit further along is our destination, Kwatsi Bay, one of the loveliest anchorages for miles around, encircled by towering granite walls. It’s a magical amphitheatre, that again in the wet is a cacophony of rushing water from a dozen waterfalls.

The last time Lynne and I were there, it was after a rain. We were cruising with family and chose to stern-tie. I trundled ashore with the line while son-in-law Aaron waited in the dinghy, I tied to a tree and within seconds of sitting back down in the dinghy realized we were mere feet from a mother black bear and her cub, unheard through the white noise of the waterfalls as they poked along the shore in search of food. We rowed back to Silom pretending to be very brave.

Here is also a friendly, family-run marina, perfect for cruisers nearing the end of their mandated alone time. The dock is often near full in the high season, but it’s fun to visit regardless, for the conversations on the docks and to visit the gift shop in the office.

(Edited to note that the marina was sold in early 2021 to unnamed investors. It is not known if the marina will reopen to boaters. There is speculation that the facility was purchased by a outdoor adventure company and the docks will be private.)

The marina was still for sale in early 2020. I love the idea of owning a marina, and said to Lynne “wouldn’t it be fun to live here?”

She looked at me, judged that I was serious, shook her head and muttered something about us having enough to do.

I used to think she would soften, give in, but now I’m not so sure marina ownership is in my future.

The bay is fun to explore in a kayak or dinghy. On the west shore is a beach which is a nice spot for a picnic. There is a trail from here through the forest to an impressive waterfall. Easy to find; not so easy to leave.

Paddling back to Silom after the last time we visited the beach and waterfall, Lynne gazed up at the rocky walls and sighed. She loves the place.

I saw my chance, her moment of weakness. Lynne loves to draw, so I nonchalantly offered that this would be a wonderful place for an artist to work, find peace. Our companions nodded; I had them convinced.

Lynne just rolled her eyes.

(Kwatsi Bay is covered in Salish Sea Pilot’s Cruising Guide to the Broughton Archipelago.)