When you begin your day deep in crap, it can only get better, right? That wasn’t exactly our recent experience, but things could have turned out worse.
But first, know we’ve made it through Dodd Narrows, spent a couple days anchored in Mark Bay near Nanaimo, sailed over to Jedediah Island and anchored in the beautiful little Deep Bay and explored that island, sailed to Garden Bay in Pender Harbour back over on the coast of British Columbia and then left there planning to travel the 24 miles to Sturt Bay on the northeast end of Texada. That plan evaporated when the 10-15 knots of wind forecast for Malaspina Strait was more like 20-25 straight on our nose. The sea was big and not necessarily comfortable, even with one reef in the main and the staysail up for stabilization. So, we executed our Plan B and went into Blind Bay for a couple of nights till the strait settled down.
The first night we anchored in Ballet Bay. It’s beautiful, but surrounded by private property so you can’t go ashore to hike, which lowers it down several notches on our rating scale. It did offer reasonable cell connectivity, though, so I could work…or so I thought. The next morning, the good connectivity was gone and I had work to do. My patience wore thin and blood pressure rose as I fought to keep connected…I just wanted to finish my work! As I was cursing the magical cell coverage gods who seem to get enjoyment from being whimsical with their consistency, Clay went below for his morning constitutional. Next thing I know, he’s digging plumbing tools out of their storage spot. The head was clogged. I didn’t even go down to look. After a bit, everything came out alright, but I still needed better reception, so we decided to move to another spot within Blind Bay–Musket Island Provincial Park and its Dol Cove.
When we dropped anchor, it wouldn’t grab. I watched and heard it skip over rocks. Then, as we were moving slowly in reverse to try to get it to set, Clay killed the engine, which was weird. His reason? Lightfoot’s “floating” painter (the rope that secures the dinghy to the boat when we’re in transport) got fouled in Sundown’s propeller. NOT good. The outcomes could have been a bent prop or shaft, transmission failure, a hole in the boat and losing our dinghy as it got sucked under. None of those things happened, however, due to Clay’s quick responses and the D ring getting pulled off the front of Lightfoot. Clay detangled the line from the propeller using the boat hook and then we hauled the dingy onto the deck to reattached the D ring. Whew!
This mishap feels like a greenhorn mistake and is a bit embarrassing to admit. We really are very diligent to make sure we’re doing everything just right. Actually, we often overthink things, thanks to my Type A personality. This time, though, our trouble stemmed from becoming a little complacent believing a floating line would never give us trouble of this kind. WRONG! Lesson learned: ALWAYS tie the dinghy up tight before you begin tight maneuvers or operate in reverse regardless of the type of line you use to secure it to the boat.
On the bright side, the cell coverage was awesome and I finished my work! There is that…
After nearly 20 years of sailing together, Nick and I made this very same error in Grace Harbour, BC. Seemed to be a routine anchorage until we figured out the floating line from the dinghy wasn’t floating but wrapped around our propellor! Fortunately we were able to borrow a wetsuit from a neighboring power boat so Nick could untangle the line underwater. Guess what Nick got for Christmas in 2015? His very own drysuit for cold conditions and goggles to keep on the boat on all times, just in case.
It is very humbling! I remember you all telling me that story in Bellingham and I actually thought about you when it happened. There was a power boat in the next bay over setting anchor too and I was wondering if I would have to borrow some gear from them. Note to self: floating line can and will get stuck in the prop if you don’t shorten the painter when backing.