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| Wednesday, July 12: winds SW 10-15 knots
What a dreary morning! Low gray clouds reflected on a dull glassy ocean swell. Lightning flickered in the distance. A fickle breeze carried Naomi from her anchorage into open water. Here the breeze exhausted itself and I unshipped the oars. Still shy from the rough weather at the beginning of the voyage, I wished to get around the exposed Taylors Head and back into the shelter of the inner passage. The morning became frustrating. Raising the sails for the wind was futile. Idle gusts, ranging from the northeast to south, inevitably headed the dinghy. Rowing in the sloppy sea was awkward. Unlike other trips, I couldn’t relax and accept this annoying weather. By the afternoon, Naomi had crawled 10 short miles to the Sober Island bell buoy. ..  The lethargic spell of the morning broke at last as a fresh southwest breeze awoke and the sky cleared. Naomi came to life and raced up Sheet Harbour Passage and into the inner channel. Stopping in a crevice on Round Island (above), I checked the chart and decided to anchor in Factory Cove for the night. ..  Soon I rowed Naomi through the narrow entrance between the concrete breakwater (above) and the granite rocks of the cove’s mouth. The husband and wife crew of a fishing vessel suggested that I use their mooring buoy in the cove. ..  Once Naomi was secured to the mooring line, I furled the sails and began to clean the cluttered cockpit. Shortly after, the fishing boat slipped alongside and the couple threw me the painter to their sturdy wooden tender (above). For the next few days this rowboat became my means of transportation on the water. Later, I rowed ashore and walked to Port Dufferin. This once thriving community is reduced now to a few old homes and churches. The stores are closed and for sale, the wharf decaying. However, a tourist lodge by the highway was open and I used the phone there to call Gail. While walking back to the cove, I admired the wild flowers and lupins flourishing along the roadside. Unfortunately, the mosquitoes and blackflies flourishing here admired me likewise. During the evening, an old man appeared on the shore. He launched a little boat which resembled a baby’s bathtub. While standing upright, he used a single paddle to propel this tipsy shell alongside my dinghy. We had a long conversation as he smoked and gestured from his craft. At any moment, I expected to see him capsize, which thankfully didn’t happen. As dusk fell, I rowed around the cove
admiring Naomi and trying to decide what to do for the remainder of
the week. The marine radio predicted unsettled, gusty weather for
the forecast period. So far the cruise hadn’t been as relaxing as
I hoped it would be. I wasn’t in any mood to careen down this encumbered
coast behind a bagful of wind on Thursday either. Maybe tomorrow
mornings forecast would change for the better. Thunderstorms rumbled
out to sea nearby, leaving rainbows in their wake. Weather conditions
sure make a difference for dinghy cruising.
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