Sullivan Bay to Duncanby Landing

All the talk we’d heard the night before pointed toward an early morning departure. The rest of the staff and I were all very hopeful that we would be setting off today. So, when I went to bed I was really expecting that the engines would serve as my alarm clock.

Instead, I woke on my own at about 8:30 am. I can’t tell you how very bummed I was that we would be in Sullivan Bay for one more day, and behind in our schedule by two days. I recognize that with boating, the weather, not the neurotic event planner, dictates the schedule, but I was so hopeful that the weather would be in our favor and that we would be able to stick to our plans.

I hung out for a while in crew quarters, dreading going up and trying again to contact the different marinas and outfitters that I’ve been working with. I stayed below for a good while, cleaning up my area and dilly-dallying, not too anxious to start my day. When I finally came up at 10:00 am, I was informed by the captain and first mate that rather than being stuck here all day, it looked like we would actually be leaving at 10:30 if the upcoming weather report was favorable. I attended the skipper briefing to hear the verdict. It was positive we would be leaving between 10:30 am and 11:00 am.

I headed directly to the restaurant, got online and sent a message to our next two destinations, letting them know our most up to date schedule. Then I went back to Sanctuary to help stow the final items and pull in the fenders (Chef calls them boat balls) when we left the dock.

The next task was to don the wristband, down ginger pills, ginger beer and candied ginger, and cross the fingers in an effort to keep seasickness at bay.

We were underway before 11:00 am. As we headed out the seas got choppier and choppier. Captain called the waves “mashed potatoes” because they were coming from all different directions and had no set rhythm. Chef and I were getting very nervous, especially when the Captain explained that this was not the rough part. We were both gripping the cushions of our seats as the boat rocked and rolled over the rough seas. Chef was threatening to curl into the fetal position and shake if the seas didn’t get better soon.


After about an hour of that, we turned sharp to the left and suddenly nature was working in our favor. The wind was behind us and the waves seemed to cruise right along at the same speed as our boat (about nine knots). Chef and I were so grateful. Almost instantaneously, the seas were with us and the clouds parted and the sun came out.

It was at about this time that Chef’s huge variety of seasickness meds kicked in, and she about passed out into a nap. I downed more ginger.

The seas stayed calm for a few more hours until we rounded Cape Caution and cruised through a squall. The seas got pretty choppy at this point. We had 40+ knot winds that thankfully were coming from behind us. The waves weren’t too bad; the highest we saw was estimated to be about five feet. That only lasted for about an hour and then the squall passed.

I learned later that while our boat was rocking and rolling in closer to the shore, the boys on the bar had taken a path much farther out to sea, and had a close encounter with a whale. They were shocked when 50 yards in front of their boat, a huge object suddenly appeared directly ahead of them. They were further shocked when the huge mass moved through he water, showing its massive body and dramatically flicking its massive tail. The boys ran for the cameras and kept their eyes on the water, but the whale did not resurface.

Once the seas grew calm I took advantage of the peace to take a nap. I slept for about an hour and then woke to bright sun shining on the marina we were headed to. I was so happy to see that marina and even happier to know Sullivan Bay was behind us. It seems that my ginger treatments and Captain’s strategic cruising allowed me to cross what is expected to be our roughest waters without hurling. I was very grateful.

We arrived at about 5:00 pm, and I jogged up the dock to the restaurant to be sure that the dinner that I had planned (to happen two days earlier) was still possible for the night. The incredible crew at Duncanby Landing was on it, and they pulled together a great BBQ dinner without a hitch. The BBQ was really well received and Chef was glad for a night off – she was still pretty well gorked from all her seasickness meds.

Just as the dinner got started, the rain let loose and continued to pour down throughout the rest of the night, sometimes in light sprinkles, sometimes in incredible downpours.

I stopped in at crew quarters to grab my computer and found that a small waterfall was filling our cabin with water. Actually, I think a majority of the water found its way directly INTO my new rubber boots (hope I won’t need those anytime soon). I tried monkeying with the door – I thought perhaps I hadn’t closed it properly, but nothing I could do would stop the water pouring in. I had to go to the bar and request the help of Mr. Fix-it (aka Fran). As always, with a little grin on his face and without a word of compliant, he immediately came to our aide. He donned his body length raincoat and set about assessing the door. As luck would have it, the sky waited until precisely this moment to let loose. Fran was working on our hatch in a torrential downpour. Whenever he would lift his arm to make an adjustment, rainwater would pour into his sleeve and run down his arm to his side. Needless to say, he got a little soggy during the fix-it session. He found that a screw was missing and quickly replaced it then put in a temporary gutter-type contraption over the top of the door to try to deflect the water away from our hatch. It worked great last night and we stayed dry. I hope it will hold for the rest of the trip.

After dinner, there was a skipper meeting. The group agreed to adjust the schedule some. I’ll need to make some calls tomorrow to try to reschedule my bear sanctuary trip, and to cancel another trip that I’d arranged for a visit to Klemtu, a First Nations community. I’m hopeful that it will all work out. The night ended wonderfully with the guys at the bar, talking some and listening some as the rain came down.