Kisameet Bay to Pruth Bay

After a pleasant night alone in Kisameet Bay, we headed south to one of our favorite stops, Pruth Bay, home of the Hakai Institute. We stopped here on our way north earlier this year, and as we play the weather forecasts for our upcoming rounding of Cape Caution, spending two days in Pruth seems like a great plan.

The wind and current were at our stern and made for a pleasant and speedy ride to Pruth. The morning fog and clouds were quickly displaced by the approaching high pressure giving us a clear sky for the rest of the day, with associated increases in wind.

We were the fourth boat to drop anchor in Pruth, we knew more would join us before the day was done. We were as far forward toward the Hakai Institute as we could get and were well protected.

After setting the anchor and having some lunch, it was time for our customary walk to West Beach. It  was a delight. Although west sun was full on, the sea breeze kept temperatures pleasant. A few people were frolicking in the chilly ocean, a sure sign of summer in Canada. We chose to simply walk the beach, fly the drone and search for treasures along the tide line. Truly lovely.

Upon our return to OceanFlyer were greeted with another 5 boats in the anchorage – including a few that were closer than we’d like – and more on the way. Not unexpected, but such a change from our usual solitude. It is the start of the transition to more crowds that will continue to build as we make our way south.

The calm evening was graced with a subtle sunset of oranges, blues and pinks. Weather is forecast to change, so we will see what tomorrow brings.

Baker Inlet to Lowe Inlet

We slipped out of Baker Inlet at high slack, the extra water and a bit of local knowledge making the exit feel almost routine. No boats were waiting to enter, and we felt a pang of reluctance leaving behind such a quiet, beautiful spot.

Back in Grenville Channel, we fell in line with four other southbound boats, including a tug and tow. Under gray skies the miles slid by easily, three hours of smooth running in The Ditch.

Lowe Inlet was already holding two boats when OceanFlyer arrived, and by evening four more joined us—clearly we’d found a southbound wave of cruisers. Salmon leapt around Verney Falls in their determined way, but no bears appeared to claim them.

our neighbors at lowe inlet

the falls at lowe inlet

Dinner was shrimp stir fry, a regular favorite on board, but this time with a welcome twist: our own fresh-caught prawns instead of Trader Joe’s frozen bag. Hard to beat that upgrade.

The skies began to lighten toward evening, but tomorrow’s forecast promises rain and fog all day. No matter—tonight, Lowe Inlet gave us another calm anchorage and the satisfaction of cruising in good company.

Baker Inlet Lay Day

Baker Inlet served up another quiet night, and we woke to low clouds and drizzle—classic North Coast weather. Undeterred, we headed out to check the prawn pot. Jackpot! The first haul brought up 27 jumbo spot prawns. With a quick reset, four hours later we pulled another 72—smaller, but still plenty. A tip from friends had us try a second location, so we set the pot again and let it soak while we tackled boat chores and updated the blog.

The afternoon reward? Another 25 prawns—enough to hit our daily limit. With dinner plans already decided (butter, garlic, prawns!), we dropped the pot one last time for an overnight soak. Tomorrow morning’s slack tide exit would give us time for a final pull.

We scanned the shoreline for bears but struck out again. Not another boat in sight either—Baker gifted us a second night of complete solitude. Rain or not, it was glorious.

when all you got is clouds, trees and water, you photgraph clouds, trees and water

Prince Rupert to Baker Inlet

We slipped out of Prince Rupert timed for low water slack at Watts Narrows, the only way into Baker Inlet. The long no-wake zone gave us an hour of slow sightseeing: the town waterfront, towering stacks of shipping containers, and the massive new dock under construction just south of the grain terminal—likely for LPG.

Fun fact: Prince Rupert is the deepest natural, ice-free harbor in North America and the closest West Coast port to Asia—500 nautical miles nearer than others in the Pacific Northwest, saving ships up to 60 hours of sailing time.

Southbound in Grenville Channel—better known as The Ditch—we had an easy ride: light winds, scattered clouds, and just a handful of other cruisers moving in both directions. Traffic overall feels lighter this year. The Prince Rupert harbormaster confirmed it—pleasure boat numbers are down about 40% in both Alaska and Port McNeill. Cow Bay Marina, which normally turns away over 100 boats in a season, has been only “full-ish.”

The Approach to Baker Inlet

This was our first visit, and without the large white mark on Griffon Point you’d be hard-pressed to spot the entrance. Watts Narrows earns its name: narrow, winding, and blind to opposing traffic. A securité call is essential.

That said, it’s well charted and reassuringly deep. Even at a –10.89 low tide in Prince Rupert we never saw less than 36 feet under the keel, with most depths over 60. You can transit at either low or high slack—high slack makes it feel a little less tight.

Beyond the narrows it’s 3.7 miles to the head of the inlet, with shoaling that comes up quickly. We dropped anchor in 60–70 feet of soft silt that held well.

Prawns, Corn, and Quiet

With OceanFlyer settled, we couldn’t resist trying out our brand-new Bauer prawn trap. We’d picked up a three-day fishing license online and had two “local secret” spots marked by friends. Bauer recommends a first pull at 30 minutes. Our haul? Eight fat keepers. Not bad for a test run—bait refreshed, the pot went right back down for the night.

Dinner was burgers and the gorgeous sweet corn we’d scored at the Prince Rupert pop-up stand. Appetizer? Those same just-caught prawns, still snapping when they hit the pan.

Baker Inlet was ours alone that evening. Salmon leapt around us, but the bears stayed hidden. A calm night, a quiet anchorage, and a perfect end to the day.

Prince Rupert Lay Days

After days of steady miles, we gave OceanFlyer a rest and set out to reacquaint ourselves with Prince Rupert—and knock out a few boat chores. First up was laundry, then a stroll through town.

The Saltwater Bakery was our first stop, but by the time we arrived the sourdough and multigrain loaves were gone. Lesson learned—we promised ourselves a return visit at opening tomorrow. Wandering further, we admired murals of whales and bears splashed across buildings, lunched on fresh halibut at Dolly’s Fish Market, and browsed Rupert Meats and a handful of quirky shops. Two chandleries rounded out the walk, including Pacific Net & Twine where a Bauer Sea prawn pot caught my eye. Our collapsible version has been nothing but trouble—broken spring on its first use this trip—so the Bauer trap looked like a serious upgrade. Dinner plans at the tiny Fukasaku sushi house fizzled (booked a week out), but Opa Sushi filled the gap perfectly.

Day two was about business—and bread. We hit Saltwater Bakery right at opening and scored still-warm sourdough and multigrain loaves, plus croissants that didn’t survive the walk back to the boat. Two thumbs up.

Back at Pacific Net & Twine we sealed the deal on the Bauer prawn trap, complete with lead weights. From there, we rented e-bikes at The Outpost in the Atlin Building—part chore-hauler, part sightseeing machine. They weren’t silky smooth, but they had plenty of punch and made errands a breeze. Groceries from Safeway hung from the handlebars, followed by a detour to Seal Cove and a surprise hit of a Mediterranean lunch at Arabisk. Babaganoush and whipped ricotta with roasted tomatoes hit the spot.

Karen had tracked down a pop-up corn stand on Facebook, so six fat ears joined our dinner plans. A stop at the liquor store rounded out the provisioning before we returned the bikes.

Dinner at the Crest Hotel’s Waterfront Restaurant, on Navigator’s recommendation, was the day’s capstone: lamb rack for me, chicken stuffed with mango, brie, and spinach for Karen, and sticky toffee pudding shared between us. Back aboard OceanFlyer, we settled into a quiet, satisfied evening—well-fed, well-provisioned, and ready for the miles ahead.