Sailing Vessel Karma

Still unsure how to pronounce this as we have heard a myriad of options, Campania Island is a secret paradise bestowed upon us with trust by a few different people including Qualia, Evan of SV Amaryllis, and SV Manna. Quite a ways up the BC Central Coast, it is past the point most Central Coast cruisers get to and it’s far enough from Alaska that those people just zoom on past it.

Heading out from Smithers Island we had a long but enjoyable day mostly motoring up our stop along the Laredo Channel where we anchored on the Princess Royal Island side, we were able to sail downwind northward in 20kts towards the Caamano Sound where we would once again be out in the open ocean. Spirits were high as the fog had entirely cleared and we were gliding right along with the wind and waves. Everyone quickly settled into their own tasks with Zoey knitting, Heather writing, and I watching the water we were pushing out the way as Karma traveled north.

The Caamano sound landed us in fog and no wind. Spotting a sailboat on the horizon and knowing there aren’t too many people up here, we figured it was SV Manna who we had met in The Broughtons a few weeks back. We hailed them on the radio in hopes of sharing an anchorage but they were heading to an inlet further north.

As the fog filled in we were able to sail along upwind at a good clip and we were thinking we’d catch back up to Manna, but the fog thickened even more and the wind died where we then resorted to motoring along again with about a quarter mile of visibility. The approach then to Campania Island was an interesting one as we knew there were huge cliffs but we could only see the very tops of them every couple of minutes even as we entered the narrow McMicking Inlet, only a couple hundred of feet wide.

The entrance was a slow one as we could see nothing but white and were therefore traveling by charts only. We anchored at a spot recommended by Qualia semi precariously and decided to sit for a while to suss out our anchoring job. Zoe went ashore to see if she could find any trails while we stayed aboard.

As we made dinner some other sport fishing boats rocked up and anchored around. There was more wake than we were expecting with these other visitors coming from the few Central Coast villages or towns which have docks. A blue 24 or so foot fishing boat anchored near us and introduced himself as Jeff, fisherman from Alberta. We set out on our dinghy to troll for some fish and he was kind enough to offer us some herring as bait. No luck to us this time but Jeff would fix that later by offering us a lincod which he caught earlier if we could fillet it ourselves. Armed with our knowledge from Qualia and our single attempt with the Rockfish we claimed to be pros and we were gifted the fish which we had for dinner that night.

The next morning we set out after a long breakfast in hopes of finding these alleged beaches we’ve heard so much about. Heading off into the fog our outboard dies almost immediately and after much pulling of the rip cord and drying off spark plugs we decide to row to the closest shore and walk the trail Zoey found previously instead.

It started off much like a game trail, with a semi compacted trail with a few plastic strings tied to trees but this quickly ended and we were winging it as far as where we were going. Once we made a good distance over the rolling rock hills and past the lagoons we started to climb, or bushwhack that is, up with the goal of reaching one of the peaks.

Being an uninhabited island amongst a vast chain of uninhabited islands far from any settlement lands us clambering over trees, through bushes, and entirely making the trail up ourselves. It was a good move that we all were wearing pants and not shorts. The fog had mostly cleared at this point and each time we find ourselves on a rock out of the thicket of trees the view gets better and better. It was surprising how high we were actually able to climb up, though eventually we were at a peak which was separated by a huge valley which had us snacking and calling this the top for us.

Being up on some random peak on some random island way out away from any sort of infrastructure is a strange sensation which has a bit of a different context in yacht than it does say, driving out somewhere then hiking. Sailing you’re always moving at around 5kts, quite slow. But you’re also entirely off infrastructure from the get go except for what you’ve installed, maintained, and provisioned your yacht with before you left. Because of this, doesn’t really make a difference if you’re sailing from the City of Seattle to Everett or from nowhere to nowhere but further away. With friends aboard, food a plenty, and our whole house with us, you have to actually sit back and realize that you’re not as close to, say medical help, as you might think.

After the very scenic descent and finding our way back to the bay where Karma was safely anchored we rowed past Jeff and chatted and he invited us fishing in the morning, 6am sharp he said. An exciting prospect we though, so we planned on it.

Waking up with the alarm, we had prepped sourdough the night before to bake and made coffee. It was a damp, rainy, foggy day out and Jeff was already picking up his anchor. We rushed out and he was already leaving with a “safe sailing!” tossed our way as he motored slowly past us. Heather yelled out, asking if we could still come fishing, and he turned back and said he had room for two. This was all a bit strange and we were sort of thinking, ‘do we go, who of us three should if so, how long will it take….’ but as he approached he said ‘oh we can do three might just be a bit tight,’ so we all hopped on.

We went but 500 meters, right to the skinny part of the channel, and Jeff had out his downrigger attached to a flasher and Skinny Gee on a line. Calling, ‘here fishy fishy fishy fishy….’ almost immeditealy there was one on the line. He passed the rod to Heather and the fight was on. It was all quite exciting. He was yelling, ‘if they want to go let them go’ meaning to let the line run when they do, then reel in when they stop. After not too long Heather had reeled in a 20 or so pound Coho Salmon and Jeff flipped it onboard, bonked it, and slapped it right in the cooler and had the line out all in a 30 second ordeal. I had been driving his boat to ensure we weren’t heading straight for shore.

Just as quick as the first time, another is on the line! This time an even larger salmon, the process was repeated and just like that we were up to what our license allowed for the day. Astonished at what had just happened, we were wondering how we were going to use all of this fish over the next few days. Jeff, not wanting to break any rules with the Canadian Fisheries Board dropped us back aboard Karma not 40 minutes after we had been picked up and off he went. We recorded our catch and Zoe and Heather went ashore to fillet the two fish on some rocks while I prepped the boat to depart.

Out the channel, through the fog, we passed Jeff who was just a bit further out from where we were fishing and he had already caught another whopper. With a salute we were off, heading north.