For us, an ideal cruising destination combines solitude with a chance to explore new territory. We seek places that are little covered in the cruising guides and where few people go. Besides an appealing anchorage, we are always on the lookout for interesting side trips, such as a trail to a view or a lakeside perch, or a lagoon to explore in the dinghy or kayak. We’ll periodically post locations that for us meet this criteria under the “Secret Coast” category. Some are documented in Cruising the Secret Coast, while others are beyond the scope of the book, such as in the south Puget Sound or the northern central BC Coast. We’ll start with Suquash.

By boat, Suquash is thirteen miles southeast of Port Hardy, opposite the western tip of Malcolm Island. The Suquash Coalfield is the reason that nearby Fort Rupert—which offered the closest shelter—was established in 1849 by the Hudson's Bay Company (HBC) of Great Britain. Mining was halted in 1852 when a superior coal source was found near Nanaimo, but the HBC continued to operate Fort Rupert due to their investment in the outpost.

In the early 1900s, a private company deemed the Suquash Coalfield worth mining. This time, it was a major operation that anchored an on-site settlement large enough to support a school, post office and regular steamship service. It closed before the Second World War, but much of the equipment was abandoned in place. It is an easy walk from the beach at Suquash to see the ruins, and they are extraordinary. The first ones we found were huge shovels, perhaps four metres high. Farther along was a metal wheel with one-meter spokes.

To the south, and closer to shore, were the ruins of the foreman’s house. Two intact river-rock chimneys soar skyward, blending into the second-growth forest. Inshore and south was a narrow concrete and stone structure, about seven metres high, with an archway through the centre. We couldn’t guess its purpose. Beyond was the mine shaft itself, where a massive steam engine rests on a concrete bed. The engine ran a huge spool of cable to raise and lower a carriage through the mine shaft. The shaft is said to extend across Queen Charlotte Strait nearly to Malcolm Island. Legend has it that miners could identify ships passing overhead by the ships’ vibration signatures.

For more detail on Suquash, directions and anchoring advice, see chapter eight, Fort Rupert, in Cruising the Secret Coast.

In busy Pacific Northwest anchorages, stern-tying is a common option to allow more boats to fit in than would if they all swung free at anchor. Smuggler Cove Provincial Marine Park along the southern BC coast is a good example:

We aren’t often in anchorages that busy, as we tend to favor less-traveled areas.  Nonetheless, we still stern-tie frequently.  We do it as a way of tucking into beautiful little anchorages where there just isn’t the space to swing free.  One of our favorites is this little nook in the south end of Jedediah Island in Jedediah Marine Provincial Park:

We sometimes use a stern anchor instead of a stern tie when swing room is limited and no suitable shore tie exists. This can happen when the nearest shore is private property, or too far away, such as this anchorage at Rupert Island in the Hakai Luxvbalis Conservancy Area:

I recently came across a set of pictures from Sweden that are notable for two reasons: 1) the anchorages are amazingly beautiful and 2) the local style in that area is to drop a stern anchor and then pull the bow up to shore.  Have a look at these pictures: http://baylinerownersclub.org/forum/showthread.php?t=6139&highlight=carman. We’ve just got to find a way to go boating in Sweden.

                                                --jrh

James Hamilton

jrh@mvdirona.com

I recently came across a posting that is a good reminder for all of us.  It was a standard 30-amp shore power cord.  On the outside, there was slight evidence of heat.  Upon taking the plug apart, it’s completely melted.  It’s not my picture so I’ll not post it here but you can see it at: http://www.baylinerownersclub.org/forum/showthread.php?t=13761. Also on that thread is a posting by a Harbormaster showing one that completely failed and burned.  

When flowing through a corroded connection, even considerably less than 30 amps will produce a dangerous amount of heat. Corrosion brings resistance and resistance brings heat.  One good technique to efficiently chase these problems down is to use a small infrared heat sensor.  When you are running an electrical load, check for warming at the connectors and in the wiring within the boat to the main breaker panel. A good electrical load is an electric space heater. Where there is heat there is resistance, and you want to catch it before it becomes a fire risk.

I use a Fluke 561, pictured below.  This one runs around $150, but I’ve seen IR temperature sensors as low as $35. And, of course, you can feel for warmth as well. I use the IR temp sensor for so many different purposes that I wouldn’t dream of doing without it at this point.

Check out the pictures referenced above and remember to check your cables and connections a couple of times a year. Replace them when there is any evidence of corrosion, browning, or heat.

James Hamilton, jrh@mvdirona.com

We were travelling north through Wells Pass in the Broughtons one year when Jennifer yelled “Bear!” We were a good half-mile from any shore, so a bear sighting seemed a little unlikely. But the bear wasn’t on shore, it was swimming about 20 feet off our port bow. We’d been running at about 7 knots, but immediately stopped. When our wake caught up to it, the bear stopped swimming, waited for the wake to pass, then started off again.

The bear paddled with its nose in the water, lifting it every few strokes to take a breath (http://mvdirona.com/blog/content/binary/BearSwimming.mov). It was paddling at reasonable speed across the channel, and seemed a competent swimmer, but we were pretty concerned that the little feller wouldn’t make it. The nearest shore ahead of it was a half-mile and behind it was a mile. So the animal likely would have to swim at least 1.5 miles, if not farther, between shores. Not wanting to witness a bear-drowning, we tried to come up with a plan for what we’d do if he started struggling. We figured sacrificing one our inflatable kayaks probably was the best bet.

But the bear eventually reached shore without problem. It didn’t even seem particularly tired. One ashore, it pulled itself out onto some rocks, looked around a bit, shook off the water, then lumbered off (http://mvdirona.com/blog/content/binary/BearLanding.mov). Wild.