Tale of two anchorages
These experiences will sometimes determine if an otherwise protected anchorage makes it into our guide.Two consecutive nights on anchor recently brought this into focus.
The first night, in North Cove on Thetis Island, was remarkably quiet. The forecast was for light southerlies, which promised good shelter, and what wind there was fell away as we drift-sailed into the anchorage off tiny Cufra Inlet.
There was one other boat on anchor in the large bay, and another joined us later while we were enjoying a beautiful sunset. We’d had a lovely kayak paddle at high tide up Cufra Inlet, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine, stillness and eclectic variety of homes and cottages that lined the shore — as if on a lazy river. That night and next morning there was nary a sound: no dinghies ferrying furry friends to shore, no anchor windlass rumbles, no dull thrum of freighters at anchor in the distance — just absolute silence and a solid night’s sleep.
We have never had a bad night in North Cove, no unforecast northerlies, but the last time we were here, the weather was drizzly and cold, earning an unemphatic rating in our guide as “peaceful with good protection from southerlies.” But we both would return without hesitation in the right wind conditions.
The following morning we again had very little wind and nearby Ladysmith was a good destination given the wind direction. We ghosted around Coffin Point as we headed for Bute Island, where we stern tied to one of the pins installed with support from the BC Marine Parks Forever Society.
I have fond memories of that stretch of shoreline as my parents had a house on the waterfront there in the 80’s. My kids were very young and delighted when, on a very low tide we could walk to Bute Island. We swam most evenings, spent hours on the beach and paddled about in a small row boat. Needless to say it has changed a lot in 40 odd years.
At about 20:00 the noise began. A massive barge with two large permanent cranes and fully loaded with logs was brought in by tug to a spot about 500 metres from us. Clanging, rumbling and banging went on most of the night. At 06:30 they fired up the cranes and began removing massive bundles of logs and dropping them overboard into a boom. “Dozer Boats”, apparently a Ladysmith invention, would ram the giant bundles of logs to send them gliding a safe distance away. This went all morning, and into afternoon, driving away most of the other boats that had joined us for the night.
We paddled after breakfast to see the old family home and were surrounded by about 20 sea lion pups who seemed as intrigued by us as we were with them. But we couldn’t carry on a conversation over the mechanical roar.
We fled in early afternoon…we couldn’t hear each other talking through the companionway from the galley to the cockpit.
We’ve anchored here before and found it delightful, but if this had been my first time here, I would likely not come back despite my personal ties to the place.
And so it is. Once we have determined the holding, protection and other technical aspects what’s left to influence our impression of an anchorage is often a matter of timing, weather and even our goals that day. But it’s also why we never tire of cruising here. Each time we revisit an old haunt, there is something new or different.
And it’s also why, though we have often considered and always decided against giving each anchorage a rating…there are just too many variables.
Thetis Island’s North Cove and Ladysmith Harbour’s Bute Island are covered in the Salish Sea Pilot cruising guide.
