Alternative title (as supplied by Carmen): We Like It in the Stern
I awoke to a blue sky and warm sun. Coffee and writing in the cockpit until everyone else stirred and we enjoyed watching the morning unfold.
Today we are off to Roscoe Bay, which has a bar at its entrance. We need to cross it in a rising tide and our calculations say 3:30-4 this afternoon. Dave’s agree. So we will head out in search of wind and tour the Sound.
We cast off 11-ish and motored up to Isabel Bay. After 3 attempts we finally made it to this bay. This was a place that Ian from Corus had recommended. Sheltered, picturesque and quiet. I have to agree it would be worth a stop.
While we were circling the bay I noticed a large black dog trotting by the stern line of one of the boats I was admiring. Then I realized it wasn’t no dog. A smallish black bear was investigating the shore and looking wistfully at the tasty people in the boats just offshore. I radioed R Shack, but by the time they got back it had headed up hill and into the trees. They saw some nice jellyfish, though, so that’s something.
One last time we weaved up the crowded Okeover Inlet and hit Desolation Sound eager to sail. There was no wind. It was beautiful and sunny and absolutely still. A power boater’s day I guess. We set a course for Roscoe Bay and enjoyed the day on the water.
There are lots of boats in Desolation Sound. Lots and lots of boats. Lots and lots and lots of boats. I guess because the Sound is so open you see them all at once but man, there are a lot of boats. Prideaux Haven is one of the it s
pots in Desolation and it must be jam packed. Our destination of Roscoe Cove had 4 or 5 boats circling waiting for the tide to turn and you could see a dozen boats already in.
We were about an hour early so we circled on motor for a bit and, after a powerboat tried the shoal and backed out, we unfurled the genoa and sailed up and down for an hour or so. At one point we hit 2.8 knots with just the foresail so the sailing being not too shabby was the general consensus. At least I thought so.
Eventually a sailboat took the plunge over the shoal and since he made it without incident we headed in as well. R Shack took the lead and slowly moved over the shoal. Their minimum depth on the crossing was 8’9″ giving them about 2 feet more than their 6’6″ draft. Plenty of space. We followed them in safely and soon we were motoring into Roscoe Bay.
R Shack Island circled around and picked out a tree then dropped anchor for a stern tie. We grabbed the next tree down and followed suit. Once again even though all the books recommend a stern tie, most boats are monopolizing space in the center—even to the point of being rude about it.
The windlass is being cranky but we got the anchor down and Leslie and I rowed in to take a wrap around our tree. This time we are close enough to be able to loop back to the boat so leaving will be much easier. While standing on the slippery rocks the local greeter-snake slithered by at the waterline to scare the h*ll out of me. 7′ people… 7′! How hard is that to remember?
Leslie took the end back to the boat while I took up slack and then C and I pulled the rope taut. Leslie then came back to shore for me. Stern tie success. And C was right, we like it this way.
A bit more tidying and it was booze time. We settled on sangria and C started in on mixin’em up. Unfortunately for the enterprise she broke the corkscrew before we got the bottle of Rioja open.
I immediately rowed over to the neighbors and borrowed a relief corkscrew and headed back before panic took over the Baraka Too. Thank god I was in time.
C finished up the drinks and we rowed them back to R Shack for an aperitif and visit. We decided it was two nights here and then 20+nm to Drew Harbour and Rebecca Spit before we were due at Gorge Harbour for dinner.
Back on Baraka I started the BBQ and C made some delicious, tasty, juicy strip loins. We ate in the cockpit enjoying the last of a warm day and soaked in the peace.
The real highlight of the evening was when I glanced up and noticed the BBQ, which had been off for an hour, was smoking. I threw open the lid and the BBQ brush, which I had thrown in there after I ‘turned it off,’ had melted completely through the grill like some sort of cheap Salvador Dali.
Carmen helped by taking pictures. Oh wait, that wasn’t helpful. Sigh. I had to restart the BBQ to warm up the plastic again so so could peel it off the grill. But I saved the bristles, so that’s something…
As the sun set we sat with candles in the cockpit and closed the day quietly.