Today’s journey is a short one, only 8nm over to the Bunsby Islands and Scow Bay. The Bunsby Islands are a destination for kayakers so we are excited to do some exploring by paddle.
The morning was again sunny and cloudless. We slept in until around 7:30 and were able to see the low tide. Large mud flats and rocks were now clearly visible when before they were only indications on the charts and depths on the sounder.
Since the trip was short today, we took our time getting ready. It was not until 10:30 that we got underway. The winds were out of the southeast as predicted, blowing about 15 knots. In order to avoid the low swells we set our course for behind the Barrier Islands. The reefs, islands and islets along with their associated kelp, did a fine job of calming the seas.
As we approached Gay Passage to enter Scow Bay, we passed three kayakers. They appear very small in this large, vast watery vista.
Scow Bay is open looking, but provides good protection. Because the head is small, we found it difficult to find a spot to anchor where we could let out enough scope and still have enough swing room. It’s a better place for a stern tie with water depth approaching 40 feet. Many of the outcroppings have good depths even as you get very close.
We were not in the mood for a stern tie, and we were all alone in the bay, so we moved out a little and set in 55 feet at high tide. This gave us nice breezes and great views in all quadrants.
The afternoon showed we had little ambition. Karen read her Nook, and then took a nap; and I worked on the blog and photos. Around 3pm when I looked up from my computer, I saw some fog had moved into the Gay Passage entrance and was trying to make its way to our anchorage – from the water in front of us, and wafting over the tops of the trees behind us. For the next three hours the sun, with its warm temperatures, and the cold air from the ocean fought to gain control.
It was very strange to be enjoying a bright cloudless day, so bright your eyes hurt, and then see fog roll in trying to block the clear skies above. We knew what was coming; as soon as the temperatures dropped, the fog would set in solid.
Around six as I was beginning to think about fixing dinner, I gazed at the entrance and saw a small sailboat entering the cove. A beautiful sloop of about 33ish feet with two guys aboard waved as they motored past us and dropped anchor 100 yards further up towards the head of the bay. After they dropped anchor, the fog got serious.
Dinner was rockfish and curried, glazed sweet potatoes. Karen promised to bake chocolate chip cookies to bring some joy to our foggy night. After all, this is why August is called Fogust along the West Coast of Vancouver Island. A quiet night.