Sunday July 15th Lewis bay gale force winds.
Lewis bay avoiding gale force winds on a little rock. Hell to get the boats up and down. But we are mostly out of the wind and safe. We packed up – rock scramble on wet fucus and paddled against headwind, current and chop, slow as hell to Blunden harbor. Only 14 miles, but it felt more like 24. As we slowly found the harbor, a nice man on a sail boat told us about a First Nations cabin by the shell midden beach that we could stay in. A roof over our heads for the first time in a month. Fire pit and outhouse included. Simple wood latch on the door.
Total miles: 396, Blunden Harbor
Conditions: mid 60s, barometer dropping to 1014, strong NW winds
A hard day. Breaking camp was hard. We were going to leave early, but the wind was still blowing at 4am and the tide was ridiculously low. We slept until 7:30am. Good for us, better for launching the boats, not so ideal for paddling conditions. Our rock was nice and secure for both us and the boats, but a bitch to get off of. We did so safely. Headed out to sea – wind not too bad, some moderate swell. I was not paddling well today. Slow, steady, small, alone. T2 was paddling strong. The wind picked up, the swells diminished, and we moved forward very slowly. We reached some protection in the Raynor group of islands, and continued on to Blunden Harbor. Protected, a couple of sailboats moored, no obvious camp locations. A man on one sailboat hailed us, and said there was a cabin at the shell midden. Manna from heaven – easy beach access and a roof over our heads for the first time in a month. We hauled up and I discovered I had gallons of water in my back hatch. OK, I was tired because I was hauling a ton of extra weight. Great. The back hatch is slightly temperamental in alignment – dead on and it is watertight, slightly off and it leaks like a sieve. I was slightly off, and the rough water worked its way in. I hate paddling at this crawling pace and will be very glad when Cape Caution is behind us.
I lazed around, T2 caught a fish, and now we have a nice fire. We met Stephanie and her dog Sally on the beach; they are sailing on the Cambria flying a British flag. I wonder if we’ll run into her again.