Monday-Tuesday, October 5-6, 2026
Yes, fog found us again and accompanied us on a good portion of our nearly-wind-free six-hour motoring journey from Vancouver to Thetis Island (where we actually decided to spend the night in North Cove because the weather was very “settled”). Our challenges with the runaway anchor chain recurred as well, but, overall, our day was not exciting!
We rose at 7 am to sunshine and left the Burrard Yacht Club at about 8:15 as planned, with laundry done, batteries fully charged, the water tanks filled, garbage and recycling disposed of, the holding tank soon to be emptied, plenty of diesel fuel and propane, and necessary supplies purchased. Marine traffic around Vancouver and through First Narrows at slack tide was almost non-existent, but I found it interesting as always to observe at close hand the huge cargo vessels waiting to load or unload in the port—bulk carriers, tankers, tugs, container ships, etc.—as we passed through the assemblage. We could see in the distance the gray streamers of low clouds and fog that awaited us, and eventually had to return to sounding Braesail’s horn for five seconds every three minutes as required when visibility is reduced. I could still see seabirds diving and bobbing near the boat, and at one point I spotted a small dorsal fin cutting through the water’s surface twice (not large enough to belong to a whale, I think), but for most of our journey the scenery was a two-shades-of-gray canvas: lighter gray above the sea’s surface and darker gray at the slightly-rippled surface.
As we approached Porlier Pass at about 1:30 pm, the fog began to thin and we could see the surrounding shores, as well as a very impressive 101-foot-long two-masted sailing “super-yacht” that had recently traveled through the Northwest Passage from Greenland (we looked it up!). The boat, called the Marama, accommodates six guests and a crew of six, and is famous for high-latitude charters and scientific expeditions to Antarctica, Cape Horn, and Patagonia. Walt contacted the ship by radio and it was agreed that it would proceed though the pass ahead of Braesail. The Marama WAS indeed something to see!
We found a suitable anchoring spot in North Cove with little effort—we were the only boat in the sizable cove bordered by some sandstone “galleries,” sheer granite cliffs, steeply sloping shores, and some level ground on which sat a few houses, surrounded by lovely trees.
As Walt was lowing our anchor however, its chain again began to run away, Walt yelled from the cockpit, and I stepped on the moving chain with both feet, managing to stop it until Walt could come to the bow and tighten the windlass with a winch handle. He tried again to get the anchor down and well-hooked into the bottom, and again the chain began to run uncontrolled, Walt yelled to me, and I again stepped on the chain. Walt did get the anchor set after again tightening the windlass, and he’ll make sure that the windlass is tightened whenever he raises the anchor so it will be ready for the next deployment.
A serene afternoon and evening followed, with long naps, computer projects, a tasty supper, blog post writing, and watching a long-time favorite Canadian detective series.
The sun retires for the night in North Cove
Several other boats joined us in the cove, the wind stayed silent, and we decided that we will probably motor for about an hour tomorrow to reach a marina in the town of Ladysmith, since the direction of the wind overnight is predicted to change and send it blowing INTO the cove, making for an uncomfortable night.
Monday night was soundless and motionless, and the skies were solid gray when we awoke. Walt made excellent breakfast sandwiches for us, and then began to return to work on his digital keyboard project as a change from all the boat projects he’s been engaged in for six weeks. I suddenly began to feel unwell and sleepy, with some lower GI issues and a little heartburn, and as the skies cleared and sunbeams filled the cockpit, I lay down on one of the lounge-cushions and fell asleep.
When I awoke, I decided that the cockpit was now too warm, so I went down into the main cabin, drank a good bit of water, and went back to sleep, waking again around 2:30 pm. Because of the anticipated change in wind direction (there was NO wind at all in the cove), I decided that I felt well enough to make the 1.5-hour journey to the Ladysmith Yacht Club docks, where we could get inexpensive accommodation for a night or two. We had a pleasant motoring journey, and spent a little time exploring the Ladysmith Harbour’s nooks and islets, among which I spotted the head of a seal slipping along. When we arrived at the Yacht Club docks, we saw that a small barge loaded with wood debris was positioned so that we couldn’t pull Braesail into position. Walt called someone in the Yacht Club office about the problem, and the helpful gentleman came down to the dock, pulled the barge away, and helped us dock—I was very grateful!
Once we were settled, Walt hiked off to shop on shore for the items we had forgotten to buy in Vancouver and for a few boat items, I closed the cockpit and companionway to keep out some of the rumbling “lumber thunder” that echoes around the waterfront of this busy logging town filled with timber processing facilities and floating log booms, and then lay down on the settee and fell asleep AGAIN! Walt returned with his purchases after about two hours (most of the town is located at the top of a long, steep slope that he and I trudged up together a year ago), and we enjoyed the sausage rolls he’d bought for a light supper.
Walt was quite tired and sore after walking up and down hills for some three miles with heavy shopping bags, and so we decided to crawl into bed early. I am happy to be feeling better, but could still use more sleep!
