The trip north from Port Hardy is usually done along the inside passage, minimizing exposure to weather and seas in the Queen Charlotte Sound and Hecate Straits. This area is shallow, has lots of current, and when stirred up by strong winds can be exceptionally dangerous. Even in summer weather it can be treacherous. Take the "unseasonably intense" depression which had us running back to Port Hardy for a secure anchorage two days ago. We did not feel much there, but a couple of hundred miles away it was blowing a steady 55 to 60 knots, gusting to 72!

However, with the passing of the depression to the north, and the downgrading of the weather to small craft warnings – which we do not feel we’re qualified for – we decided to take a more direct route, as shown on the image above. This had us direct to Milbanke Sound rather than Fitzhugh Sound – a savings of miles, navigational complexity, and current schedules. The main reason, however, was boredom. There is only so much smooth water we can take. And the Canadian weather forecasters promise of 15 to 25 knots of wind from the southeast, backing to southwest, was too enticing to ignore.

As if to welcome us to this new part of the world we had a wonderful display of acrobatics by hundreds of dolphins. They played in the pressure wave off the stabilizers, took runs at the bow, and leaped even with our watchstanding station as if to say "hello".

One of the problems with cruising in this part of the world is there are so many choices on which way and where to go. Linda is in charge of decision making in this regard, and here she has the three cruising guides, chart book, and Canadian Hydrographic Office charts spread out. Even though we have a chart plotter running on the PC, and a trail on the radar, we still like those pencil marks on the paper charts. If something quits at the wrong time, this is no place to be confused as to our whereabouts!

Working our way into open water, the seas began to build. We were feeling both the swells coming in from the open ocean and a 2-knot opposing current.

These were typically 6 to 10 feet (2 to 3 meters), but we had the occasional 14-footer (4.3m) wave to help us on our way. For the most part these were right behind us, just where we like them. Wind Horse was so excited to be back in real waves that she was giving us some great rides.

Now from time to time we see some pretty good numbers on the speedo and GPS on surfs. But we rarely have a camera in hand when it happens. This time, however, we were lucky.

The difference between the speedo and GPS is partially current (2 knots adverse) and partially the longer average speed period for the GPS. But hey, this is a Wind Horse record! Kowabunga, Dude!

For most of our cruising in this part of the world, we’ve been going slow in terms of RPM and boat speed. The distances are short, weather exposure is rarely an issue, and this is more efficient in terms of fuel burn. However, for this passage we have been running at 2000 RPM, averaging 12 knots.

Here’s a small scale Nobeltec vector chart image of the entrance to Milbanke Sound.

It is a tight area, made all the more interesting by a BC Ferries departing from ahead, and a cruise liner coming up behind us.

We were surprised to see how much this big guy was rolling, in what we would consider pretty small seas. There was a lot more angular motion on this ship than we see on Wind Horse.

This is a situation where radar ARPA can be a great assist. On the image above, the Furuno 2117 is showing the cruise ship crossing our stern at right angles, while the ferry (at the top of the image) is coming out of the entrance to Milbanke Sound. They have not yet started to maneuver to avoid each other. We’ve got target "trails" turned on as well, and you can easily see the blue trail on the ferry.

In the next image (above) the game is starting to play out. The yellow circle centered and low on the image represents the cruise ship. Just outside the first range ring ahead (on top) of us, the ferry is represented with a square box. Notice the yellow lines projecting from each target – the cruise ship up and slightly to the left and the ferry pointing down (to our starboard). These yellow lines represent the course of these targets relative to our own course. To make things more interesting there is a fishing boat shown off our starboard beam, another circle. Behind each target is a yellow "track" line. This is a historic look of where each of these vessels has been in the immediate past, from which we can get an idea of what they are trying to do.

Notice that these projected courses are relative to us. These are not the actual course, but how their courses will interplay with what we are doing. As they change speed or heading, or we change, the relationship between these projections will change. Look just below the ARPA box in the lower right corner in the image above and you will see "vector rel" (rel is short for relative). We can switch this with a mouse click to show what the ships are actually steering.

Check the box below ARPA again and you will see that is now shows "Vector True". The projected course – yellow lines – on the image above represent the true course of each of these three vessels. In most cases we just use the relative indicator. But in really tight spots – which this definitely is – we switch back and forth.

We’ve just started using the radar "plotter" option for both our own tracks and those of other vessels. Our track is historic, and if we’ve gotten into an area, we can follow it out. We can also follow the tracks of other vessels, assuming they draw more water than we do, as shown in the image above.

So here we are in northern British Columbia, four days removed from water skiing in Desolation Sound. It is foggy, rainy, and cold – but that’s to be expected.

There is a lot less debris in the water than when we were here 15 years ago. We’re not sure if this is due to better logging practices, or a lower tidal cycle. Time will tell. However, there is just enough junk in the water that one of us is watching ahead all of the time.

These locals are bundled up against the weather. As it is summer, maybe this is a sign that things are unseasonably cold, and it will get a lot better?

Here’s a lonely outpost for you. This is a Coast Guard base at the south end of Sarah Island. There is nothing else for miles in any direction.

This first phase of our inside passage to Alaska ends at Khutze Inlet, and we’ll share some photos of this spectacular spot in the next installment.

But for now, we want to leave you with this play on light at the entrance to Khutze. This is the first blue sky in three days, and only graced us for a few minutes this afternoon. But when you see the contrasts and colors that the sun teases out of the surrounding environment, it makes the rest of the weather bearable.