At the risk of repeating myself, yesterday it rained—hard—all day. There was no wind in the anchorage despite the wind outside, but the constant rain kept us aboard and stationary for the day. Lots more knitting done. Ron sorted the paper charts, reorganizing, identifying duplicates and finding notations about our trip to Central Coast 22 years ago—“Oh, we went there!” There aren’t many boats around, but the odd comment on the radio indicated that others were hunkered down for the day too.
This morning, however, the rain had stopped and we made our move to get a little further south. This meant being out on Queens Sound for an hour or so—big swells were rolling in and crashing on the very rugged coastline. We intended to nip into Swordfish Bay—we were in there last year and first saw sandhill cranes—but decided the big swells and narrow entrance made that plan a little risky and we didn’t want to get stuck in there if conditions on the sound got worse, making an exit dicey. So, Plan B: carry on into Spider Channel, and then for a little adventure, through the very narrow Spitfire Channel into Kildidt Sound. I was reluctant to get anchored too early for another rainy afternoon (the rain had resumed and it wasn’t looking promising for good paddling conditions), so we wound our way through the maze of islands to the east of Kildidt Sound, just exploring. We seem to be in murre territory now, seeing more of them (although not lots) than murrelets. White Raven, the Saturna 33 that we had met up with in Shearwater appeared and we shut down in the middle of Spider Anchorage for a chat, eventually deciding to move over to the Edna Islands together.
The sun made an appearance and Ron launched the kayaks, determined to get out paddling even if the clear sky was short lived. We had a great paddle through the gut between the two biggest Edna Islands, spotting huge sea cucumbers below the surface and a single sea otter all wrapped up in kelp, and ventured north of Typhoon Island into the swells. We thought we might paddle around to the beach on the west side of Typhoon, but gave up that idea pretty quickly. The sea was completely calm in our anchorage on the east side of the Ednas, but got decidedly different outside and we were paddling in conditions beyond our skill level, so turned around and satisfied ourselves with an exploration of the beach on the east side of Typhoon. A yellow legged seabird was on the shore as we passed by and it posed beautifully for photographs. We thought it was a Greater or Lesser Yellowlegs—because of the the yellow legs!—but found when we got back to Snug and checked the book that it was a Wandering Tattler—another new species for us.
We joined Doug and Bonnie aboard White Raven for happy hour and had a great time comparing our two boats’ accommodation and histories and generally having a good visit.