June 8 – 15, 2023
Traveling Havannah Channel from Port Harvey, the moon still hanging on the horizon, we caught our last glimpses of the sparsely snow capped Vancouver Island Mountains, lining the south shore of Johnstone Strait, glowing in the morning sun. Ducks, seals, and jumping fish greeted us as we entered Chatham Channel, a narrow passage separating the mainland from the Cracroft Islands. Here as in most of the land surrounding the waters of this region, logging, new and old, has marred the landscapes of the tree laden hills and mountains. There is still beauty that remains but with a stark reminder of the human influence on the lands. Turning west into Clio Channel we made our way to Klaoitsis Island and found the narrow cut into Potts Lagoon.
Potts Lagoon was our first encounter with random float homes which are a common sight in the Broughton area. There were 6 small structures on floats formed from large trees which were all tied together in a row and attached to shore at each end. One is a vacation rental cabin and several appeared to be summer cabins – maybe used as a base for fishing – none were occupied while we were there. There are ruins of an old dock and rusting cables on shore from a bygone logging operation. The hidden cove and lagoon were named for Murray Potts who homesteaded and farmed the land with cows and a horse in the early 1900s. Some of the first float homes here were permanent residence for a couple who searched for a different life and found they could provide well for themselves growing their own food, catching rainwater, and running a generator for power. Though no evidence of their orchard or cabin remain, the character of this uncommon place certainly does.
We joined two other sailboats in the anchoring area and I learned an important lesson on setting our anchor. Historically I’d preferred to be the one at the helm when we anchored, but in an effort to become more proficient at all tasks, Alex had been teaching me the finer points of dropping the hook. This time, though we didn’t know it until a couple hours later when we started dragging, I had dropped too much chain right on top of the anchor before we started drifting back and the chain became wrapped around the anchor (see photo Alex took when we brought it back up to reset). We also decided we clearly weren’t backing down on our anchor enough to be certain it was well set, as we should have caught the wrapped chain right away. Now we’ve got a groove down, with me on the bow and Alex on the helm when we anchor – in fact we tried swapping back just the other day and it didn’t go as smoothly.
While we enjoyed the intriguing nature and history here, we were feeling a bit lost as to where to head next. There was a gale warning headed our way and we were struggling to find a well protected spot listed in the descriptions of our guide books. Potts Lagoon is small and protected from fetch but there was already more wind entering the cove than what we were hoping, before the storm had even begun. After much back and forth we opted for heading up into Tribune Channel. It wasn’t clear what we could expect but it appeared on the wind map it was far enough removed from Queen Charlotte Strait so the winds would be less and many comments stated Kwatsi Bay was protected from northwest winds.
In the short stretch of Knight Inlet, on the way, we saw our first ever humpback whale – it was pretty far off and we were in the process of hoisting a sail to go in the other direction so we only caught a short glimpse but it was a preview of more to come! As the low clouds started to clear we were rewarded with remarkable mountain views from Gilford Island to the mainland and up Thomson and Bond Sounds. It’s no Jervis Inlet, but still quite breathtaking.
Kwatsi Bay has been likened to “the Princess Louisa of the Broughtons.” I can see the comparison as the high mountains sides close you in to the small harbor – however, at least while we were there, the feeling was no where near the same. It was pretty, we could see a waterfall high on the cliffs, and hear at least one other one hidden on the steep slope behind the trees, but it just didn’t feel like the place we’d heard about from other cruisers.
We circled near the now abandoned marina, with its docks in disrepair and then anchored near the opposite, east side, of the unshelled peanut shaped bay and tied a stern line to shore because of the depth. We’d only seen one other boat all day and we were alone here in this harbor. Often we desire this level of solitude, however, with the marina abandoned, the closed in feeling of the surrounding high cliffs, and the clouds slowly descending, the whole place had an eerie feel. The water was calm and little wind penetrated into the bay so it wasn’t all bad as we settled in for the night. After getting our stern line set up I explored the shoreline on my paddle board, finding several outflows of fresh water but I couldn’t locate the waterfalls we could hear through the dense forest. There were a few huge sunken trees just under the surface with many fishes swimming among them. It would’ve been cool to see the bay at a lower tide – but unfortunately on this day that only happened in the dark of night.
Leaving Kwatsi Bay we veered towards the north shore of Tribune Channel after passing Watson Cove to see Lacy Falls. Whether for lack of rain or being too cold for the snow to melt it wasn’t running very full. The cascade of silver white water over the black cliff face was still quite a site. After passing Deep Sea Bluff on our way to Simoom Sound, Alex spotted our first Black bear! It was too far to get a photo but it was great to watch it roaming the beach in the binoculars.
Stunningly beautiful Simoom Sound was, unfortunately, quite a stressful anchoring spot for us. It’s a huge L shaped body of water which looked to have several nice anchoring spots on the chart – however we soon discovered it was nearly impossible to predict where the wind would funnel around and twice we ended up being blown towards a lee shore. We eventually figured out where the best protected nook was but there was already a boat anchored there and it didn’t feel like there was enough room for another. There was one other well protected spot we could’ve dropped in deep water and tied a stern line but by then we were pretty fed up with the whole situation and decided just to move on. With clouds hovering and pouring over the dramatic mountain vistas we made our escape.
As we’ve experienced a handful of times, varying weather conditions and a boater’s state of mind can greatly affect the experience of an anchorage. What was the perfect spot for one boater on one day can be folly for the next one and vice versa. Reading guidebook descriptions and reviews and hearing stories from fellow boaters can only go so far in relating what a place will be like. Sometimes the adventure of a challenging anchorage is welcome and other times the settled nature of somewhere “boring” or not “scenic and picturesque” can be just the respite one needs. Like much of life, it all comes down to perspective.
For us the perspective of Berry Cove in Cypress Harbour was the perfect respite for our over worried weary heads despite the presence of a fish farm in the mouth of the bay and ruins from an old logging operation. It certainly wasn’t the prettiest spot but the wind wasn’t gusting or blowing us towards the shore and we did have a partial view up Kingcome Inlet – even though it was quite clouded over. The next day we discovered and explored a large lagoon area behind the main anchorage, partially fed by a small spring. The shallows were full of flounder, eagles were soaring, geese flocked near a tiny beach by the spring, a small deer was hopping along the rocky shore, and I found a short trail leading by several camping sites.
Already feeling quite renewed we continued our journey towards North Broughton Island via Sutej Channel and on the way we were treated to an epic nature show. I first spotted the spout of a whale far out in front of us and grabbed the binoculars. Humpback! It was difficult to tell from this distance what direction it might be headed and as they dive for long stretches it’s tough to predict where they could resurface – so we maintained course and kept a lookout. On this day we were lucky and saw it surface many more times, we slowed down to a crawl just to enjoy watching as we weren’t in any hurry and wanted to keep our distance. Every 7-10 minutes or so I’d see or hear the first spout, it would breathe a few times and then at last flip it’s tail up indicating it’s dive. After almost an hour of watching our new friend come and go, in the binoculars, we decided to ready the boat for our entrance into Sullivan Bay. We were sitting in neutral between Patrick and Dunsany Passages, putting out lines and fenders, when the whale surfaced just a few hundred yards off our bow. I yelled “whale!” from the deck since Alex was below and then shakily took out my phone and managed to get a short video of its tail fluke as it dove. I looked back and was grateful to see Alex had made it back on deck to see it too! What a show!
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