After our frightening night in Walsh Cove, we were ready for something a little quieter.
We pulled anchor and made our way to Tenedos Bay, hoping for a chance to reset, relax and catch our breath. And thankfully, that’s exactly what we got.
For one night, at least.
A Quiet Night in Tenedos Bay
Tenedos Bay was exactly what we needed after the excitement of Walsh Cove.
Jared got out on the e-foil, we loaded the dogs into the Stryker tender and went exploring, and we spent some time simply taking in everything around us. We cruised past an oyster bed, watched bait balls moving through the water and spotted some of the local “sea dogs” along the way.
There was no big agenda.
No emergency.
No anchor alarm.
Just a quiet evening aboard the boat, surrounded by the incredible scenery of Desolation Sound.
After several days of adventure, it felt pretty good to have a night where not much happened.
Of course, that wouldn’t last long.
Next Stop: Lund… Or So We Thought
The following morning, we decided to head for Lund.
We had a package waiting for us at the post office, needed some fuel, and we certainly weren’t going to pass up an excuse to visit Nancy’s Bakery.
Lund is one of those little coastal communities that has a character all its own. It’s known as Mile 0 of Highway 101, part of a roughly 15,000-kilometre highway network stretching along the Pacific Coast from Canada toward Chile. It’s also considered the gateway to Desolation Sound, and Nancy’s Bakery has become famous for its blackberry cinnamon buns.
There was only one problem.
As we got closer to Lund, the wind started building.
Before long it was blowing around 20 knots, and what should have been a simple stop at the fuel dock quickly became something very different.
We tried getting the big boat alongside, but the wind was making it extremely difficult. There was nobody around to grab a line or help us onto the dock, and after a couple of attempts we decided it simply wasn’t worth the risk.
One thing we’re learning very quickly about cruising the BC coast is that sometimes the smartest decision is to change the plan.
So we did.
Hiding Out in the Copeland Islands
Instead of forcing our way onto the dock, we headed for the nearby Copeland Islands, also known locally as the Ragged Islands, and found somewhere to tuck out of the wind. The island chain sits just offshore from Lund and is known for kayaking, wildlife viewing and beautiful marine-access campsites.
Once we were anchored, we came up with Plan B.
We would leave the big boat safely anchored, load the dogs into the Stryker tender and run into Lund that way.
The wind had dropped to around 15 knots. It still wasn’t ideal, but it felt manageable.
We made it into Lund, and Jared immediately went into mission mode.
Jerry can filled with fuel.
Package picked up from the post office.
And, obviously, a stop at Nancy’s Bakery for one of their famous cinnamon buns.
Then it was straight back to the tender.
We hadn’t been gone long.
But that was long enough.
The Ride Back Was a Different Story
By the time we climbed back into the tender, the wind had built right back up to around 20 knots.
The ride back to the boat was uncomfortable to say the least.
Whitecaps were everywhere. Waves were hitting the tender, spray was coming aboard and we were hanging on as the Stryker worked its way back toward the Copeland Islands.
There are moments on this trip where everything looks calm and beautiful on camera.
This was not one of them.
We were very happy when our boat finally came back into view.
Once we were safely aboard, though, everything changed again.
The wind settled, the water flattened out and the Copeland Islands gave us one of those perfect BC evenings that makes you forget about what happened just a few hours earlier.
Exploring the Islands
We jumped back into the tender — apparently we hadn’t had enough boating for one day — and went exploring with the dogs.
We found places to hike, wandered through the trees and climbed around the shoreline.
The dogs happily worked on a beef bone while Jared somehow decided that the middle of the forest was the perfect place to start doing push-ups and climbing trees.
Because… Jared.
We explored until the sun started dropping behind the islands and then headed back to the boat for what we thought would be a peaceful night.
And for most of the evening, it was.
Until about 11 p.m.
Not Again…
Our anchor alarm went off.
If you’ve spent much time anchoring, you know that sound gets your attention very quickly.
We looked outside.
And there was the wall.
Way too close.
Our boat had moved.
Suddenly we were scrambling again — this time in complete darkness.
We fired everything up, pulled the anchor and carefully moved the boat in the pitch black before resetting it in a safer position.
Coming so soon after what had happened in Walsh Cove, it was definitely unnerving.
Once the anchor was reset, we stayed awake for a while watching our position and making sure we were actually holding.
Needless to say, neither of us slept particularly well that night.
By morning, we’d made up our minds.
We were heading for Refuge Cove.
Refuge Cove — And One More Problem
We woke to roughly 10 knots of wind, but once again it began increasing as we made our way toward Refuge Cove.
At this point we were looking forward to getting onto a dock more than ever.
Then, as if the trip hadn’t given us enough little challenges, we discovered a leak from the plumbing for our ice maker.
The ice maker itself had already quit working and we’d disconnected it, but we didn’t have exactly the right tools aboard to properly deal with the remaining plumbing problem.
Enter another MacGyver moment with Jared.
We managed to get things under control well enough to continue into Refuge Cove, found space on the dock, filled our tanks and finally fixed the leak properly.
And then, for the first time in 11 days, we were tied to a dock.
It felt amazing.
A Little Piece of Coastal BC History
Refuge Cove isn’t just a convenient place for boaters to get fuel and supplies. It has been an important gathering place in Desolation Sound for more than a century.
Located on West Redonda Island, Refuge Cove is accessible by boat or floatplane. Its modern settlement history dates back to at least 1913, a school was operating by 1914, and the general store first opened in 1918 as the Donley Trading Company. By the 1920s, Saturday-night dances were attracting people from communities around the Sound, and by 1931 Refuge Cove reportedly had around 200 residents.
It’s pretty incredible to walk those docks today and think about all the fishermen, loggers, families, adventurers and boaters who have passed through this little cove over the last century.
The Refuge Cove General Store remains a familiar stop for Desolation Sound boaters looking for groceries, marine supplies, fuel, ice and other essentials.
But for us, Refuge Cove offered something even more important.
A chance to stop.
Eleven Days on Anchor
After 11 straight days at anchor, being tied securely to a dock felt almost luxurious.
No checking the shoreline every five minutes.
No wondering whether we’d moved.
No anchor alarm waiting to wake us up.
We wandered around Refuge Cove, learned a little about its history and slowed down for the afternoon.
Then we met a lovely couple from Alberta.
What started as lunch and a casual conversation turned into spending the afternoon together, and eventually dinner as well. We sat around talking and connecting well into the evening.
It was one of those unexpected parts of cruising that we’re really starting to appreciate.
You head out looking for beautiful anchorages, waterfalls, wildlife and adventure, but some of the best memories end up being the people you meet along the way.
After the wind in Lund, the rough tender ride, another midnight anchor scare, a plumbing leak and 11 days living on the hook, sitting around a table with new friends in Refuge Cove felt pretty special.
And for at least one night, we knew one thing for certain.
The boat wasn’t going anywhere.
— Jared & Ang
Off Grid Enthusiasts
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