Rollin', rollin', rollin'

That's what we were doing, for the past two days on a park buoy at Plumper Cove in Howe Sound. The BC Marine Parks brochure has the gall to refer to the place as "well-protected" which it's not, although it is in a channel that does not, at least, seem subject to the otherwise brisk inflow/outflow winds created by the steep terrain around the Sound. It's wide open to the Strait of Georgia, though, so when those big northwesterly swells start coming in, you get all 100+ miles worth of fetch on them. Well, that's not true, either... there is a relatively shallow bar near the entrance, which absorbs some of the energy... but not enough!

Despite that, it's a lovely little park, and if we were just making a day trip it would be at the top of our list for a return visit. Even one night would be tolerable. Two... well, unfortunately, we paid up front. The rates are excellent, but not something we wanted to forfeit.

Howe Sound is a bit like a big lake, a lot of cabins, a lot of hills. This morning, as we pulled out, they were somewhat obscured by a haze of smoke, drafted in by the nightly outflow from the mountains, I imagine. Yesterday was worse; you could smell it, and swirls of smoke curled through the anchorage as if everyone had started barbecuing at the same time.

We had a splendid sail across from Nanaimo, 15-20 knot winds on the beam, a low one foot chop, clear skies, bright sunshine. We were joined for a bit by a single porpoise, but as we were only making five or six knots, I don't think we were fast enough for him to play with and he soon lost interest. If only he had shown up earlier; a very short stretch of the way, out from behind Protection Island through the Fairway Channel, we had to sail on a close reach in an area that funneled the wind even faster. This put us on our side, at speeds up to seven knots, pounding into the chop. Usually, if I am on watch in such stuff, I put on at least my fouly bottoms, because it's a pain to do when you are underway and by the time you realize you need them, it's too late, but I was sitting up on the weather rail in shorts and a t-shirt while Mandy had the helm. Spray was coming over the bow, but not badly, until... we caught a particularly large wave at a particularly bad angle. I saw the wall of water coming over the bow at me as if it were in slow motion. Then... SPLOOSH! I was soaked from the waist up. A few seconds later, with a soft hiss, the part of the wave that had landed on the foredeck came rushing back along the side deck and spilled over into the cockpit, getting everything below the waist that had escaped the first drenching.

I looked back to see how Mandy had fared... and she was bone dry. I had been directly between her and the wave and formed a perfect human shield.

I went below and changed and put my fouly jacket on. Of course, that was the last wave we took over the bow. I bet the porpoise would have found the incident amusing, though.

We're in an outside slip at the West Vancouver Yacht Club right now, in Fisherman's Cove north of Point Atkinson. There is not much in this neighborhood, being rather on the outskirts of town, but it makes up for few commercial services with a considerable amount of local color. Three or four marinas, including the yacht club, are crammed into the Cove. On a chart it looks positively claustrophobic, particularly with very shallow waters. In person, it's not that tight, but it's busy, and cooperation and courtesy are key to getting around safely. Fortunately, everyone seems to have those qualities, and a large dollop of patience for outsiders who don't know where they are going and have to hunt around for the right dock. Like Seattle's houseboat community, life here seems to be lived largely on the water. In addition to the boats, there are houses lining the shore and the small Eagle Island that dominates the mouth of the cove. We just saw a dinghy parade go by, mostly comprised of small, flat barges with outboards, decorated variously as floats in a regular parade might be. Not long after that, some poor guy in a sailboat lost power right out in the channel; a passing Boston Whaler took him in tow almost immediately. The yacht club is hosting a wedding reception this evening, which also promises to be entertaining. There is plenty to see here, then, if not a lot to do.

There are commercial services a couple miles away, but the neighborhood is at the base of some steep-to terrain that doesn't appeal to me at the moment. There are handy bus routes, but I have spent our last cold, hard Canadian cash on the gate key deposit, so it looks like a quiet night in for now.

Tomorrow we will get going pretty early so I can deliver Mandy to False Creek and she can make her way to the Amtrak station in time for her train to Seattle. After that, I am likely anchored on my own in False Creek for a few days. There, at least, city services are right near by. And cash machines... I'll need some more of that.