Uclulet to Effingham Bay to Joe's Bay June 30

Since we are at the dock and town is just four blocks away, we walk back into town for coffee (and internet) this morning.  We find Zoe’s Café and Bakery and order lattes and an “egg bake” to share.  Yesterday this place was teaming with people and this morning it appears that the town is slow to wake up.  We are here with just 3 or 4 other hearty folks.  I work on the blog but there is no internet here.  She suggests a café up the hill.

We finish our coffee and decide to go on the walk to the lighthouse (the very walk we missed doing yesterday).    It is about 1 km from the café to the start of the trail and another 2.2 km of trail.  The walk is stunning.  A mix of feeling like you might be in Monterey (wind swept trees), the Oregon Coast (big rocks and sweeping waves) and somewhere altogether different.  The trail is extremely well kept and we meet many travelers along the way.

We walk back into town to find the Blue Café where we will have our second breakfast (blueberry pancakes to share) and use the internet.  

From Uclulet we are headed to Effingham Bay in the Outer Broken Islands.  The forecast for the Strait of Juan de Fuca has winds approaching 40 knots until Monday.  Our plan is to explore Nootka Sound.  Uclulet is a place I would enjoy returning.

The Broken Islands are a rock strewn archipeligo with dozens of small anchorages although a great many of them appear to be good for temporary stays where there is someone on watch.  We wind our way into Effingham Bay avoiding many rocks along the way and set the anchor.  The wind is from the west and this bay is perhaps least protected from the west.  We watch a smaller boat pull up there anchor and move out of the bay to a tiny inlet on the opposite shore.  They put down their anchor close to shore and take a stern line to shore.  We consider our options, including staying where we are.  We have a good anchor and 300 feet of chain that have never yet let us down.  Still, neither of us wants to spend the night worrying.  We opt to move five miles to Joe’s Bay.  This is an almost completely sheltered lagoon with several very narrow entrances.  We enter at low tide (just less that 4 feet tonight) and carefully skirt rocks and reefs.  As we enter the bay, we see that we are not alone.  There are six sailboats already at anchor.  We quickly join the sailboats at rest in the bay. 

This area is part of the Pacific Rim National Park and we sit on the aft deck and watch the kayakers bringing their boats to shore.  There must be a campground just out of sight.  We are snug and comfortable on the boat.  Perhaps my days of sleeping on rocky beaches in the rain are behind me.

Since we learned that the word Chug is a derogatory reference to First Nation’s People, from time to time my mind wanders on what to do (if anything) about the name of our boat – “Chug.”  So far, only a small handful of ideas but nothing is jumping out.  There is an Alaska Mountain Range named Chugach (Choo-ach) – that could preserve a bit of “Chug”.  Another option could be Hamlet.  Barrie always says operating a boat is a lot like owning your own small city – on the boat you have the water department, the sewage department, the electric works, etc.  This morning I was thinking about our friends Retired Adm. Scott & Mindy Van Buskirk and that led to thinking about Adm. Scott Swift who followed our friend Scott into the position of Adm. Strike Group 9 and 7^th Fleet.  Scott Swift’s call sign was Not-so (as in Not-so Swift).  All of which caused me to think about “Knot-so Swift” as yet another possible name.  When you have a boat with a single diesel engine and a full-displacement hull you move efficiently but slowly.  Our max speed is just about 7 knots (or just over 8 mph) and that makes our boat Knot-so Swift.  I suppose we will continue to let the ideas percolate.