It’s become a joke of our Broughton exploration—bear spotting. “We’ve seen eight bears, so far,” quipped one fellow cruiser. New friends, Karl and Laura, text us pictures of the bears they see on the beach. “Go to Nimmo Bay,” they tell us, “We always see bears there.” They show us a picture of a huge grizzly they saw on the beach. The picture above is of us HIKING in Nimmo Bay. I’m holding up the loud emergency whistle I carry when we hike. We also carry a boat airhorn. These are supposed to be the best tools in letting bears know you are there and, in the case of the airhorn, scaring them off—it’s better than bear mace we’re told, you don’t ever want them that close.

It’s not a problem.  No bears. We haven’t seen a one.

We did, however, make some wonderful new friends. We first met Karl and Laura Erickson at Lagoon Cove Marina. We’d seen their boat, Sara, anchored earlier in Matilpi Indian Islands. We didn’t see them, though. Matter of fact, people in the other sailboat anchored in the cove told us they had not seen anyone on Sara since they’d arrived 24-hours earlier. We discussed doing a wellness check if there was no sign of life by morning. The morning came, and up comes the anchor on Sara and off they go.

So, when we saw them alive and well at Lagoon Cove the next day, we had to tell them of our earlier concern. They laughed. Apparently, they’d both been into good books and had taken a “cabin day.” We were delighted to discover we both lived on the Hood Canal in Washington, and exchanged contact information, staying in touch via text messaging when we both left Lagoon Cove. Literally, ships passing in the night, we never seemed to be in the same cove at the same time. When we passed them heading into Turnbull Cove—where we’d already been—we decided to head back in and buddy up for the night, rafting our boats together.

There are times when events just seem beyond coincidence. Over happy hour and then dinner, we discovered Karl grew up in the same neighborhood as David. It turns out that they went to the same high school—David graduating in 1971 and Carl in 1972. These were baby boomer-size classes, so it’s not surprising that they didn’t remember each other. But when they discovered Karl grew up across the street from David’s best friend Tom, who died just weeks ago, and that he knew Tom and the family well, it was inconceivable. There are so few boats in the Broughtons. What are the odds? We’re all amazed. Our new friendship is sure to continue and grow when we get home.

From Turnbull Cove we head to Sullivan Bay, the second of only two remaining small family-owned marinas in the Broughtons. It is a cute destination that offers some provisions—we were able to get a head of lettuce but not much else—and a restaurant. We’d made reservations for their Friday prime rib buffet and were paired up at our table with fellow cruisers Trevor and Chental Wilson from Victoria. Our lively dinner conversation and connection extended to their boat’s salon after dinner where we talked into the late evening. It was easy finding connections and common interests. Chental is passionately interested in personal growth, wholeness, and wellness.

The following morning, I learned our daughter was hospitalized with a worrisome relapse of a life-threatening autoimmune disease we’d hoped was under control. I shared my distress with Chental as we both were readying to leave. With hugs she told me “we will help her!” and gave me her book Mastering Self Love for Women: A Modern Approach to Unlock Balance, Boost Resilience and Elevate Self-Esteem For a Fulfilling Life of Joy and Confidence, along with several contacts to health practitioners she’s worked with and admires. My daughter, Monica, is out of the hospital with a new treatment plan, and we’ll explore the alternative resources provided to us by my new friend who’s kept in touch—another match made in the heavenly Broughtons.

From Sullivan Bay we’d intended to spend some more time poking around the Broughtons and headed to Napier Bay—another purported bear-siting cove. And sure enough, we were told by folks on a sailboat pulling up anchor as we arrived that a bear had provided lively entertainment that very morning turning over rocks on the beach. Yay, maybe we’d finally see a bear! Then they told us they’d planned to spend another night, but decided to cross the Queen Charlotte Strait that day because a big blow was forecast for the next.

We dropped anchor in their spot, made some lunch and pulled up the weather. We’d already gone over two weeks on our water and no drinkable water to refill our tank is available in the Broughtons. Big winds were forecast on Queen Charlotte Strait for several days or more. Fearful of getting stuck in the Broughtons with the possibility of running out of water—we don’t have a gauge to tell us the level of our tank—we decided we should follow the other sailboat’s plan and head across the Strait now. So, up goes the anchor and our last Broughton bear-viewing opportunity goes up with it.

Our angels remain with us— it was a good decision. We talked our way into the Quarterdeck Marina in Port Hardy—they originally told us they were full—and get on dock. Here we can get water and fuel, deposit garbage, there is a great grocery store for provisioning, and we can prepare for heading south down the westside of Vancouver Island as planned.

Part of that preparation is changing the engine oil and replacing fuel filters. David digs into this as I head to the store for much-needed groceries.

David has bad news for me when I return with the provisions. In doing the oil change and engine check, he discovered our saltwater pump—which is a vital part of our engine cooling system—was leaking. Investigating the leak, he determined the pump had failed and needed to be rebuilt or replaced. The good news is we were at a dock—albeit the most expensive, run-down marina in BC (more on that later)—with a marine store just down the street. Due to David’s vigilance, we were not on the west side of Vancouver Island with a failed water pump!

“With a phone and credit card you can solve most problems,” David says. $1,500 CA and 24 hours later we have a new pump, and he once again twists himself into our tiny engine room to install it. It appears that you must be willing to become a diesel mechanic to cruise as we are.

Installation goes relatively smoothly and with confidence we start the engine. It starts immediately, then dies and won’t restart. David suspects we have air in the fuel line from replacing the fuel filters, which he confirms after seeing no fuel is getting to the injectors. So, now comes the process of bleeding the fuel lines. He does this with the patience of Job, if it had been me, I would be cursing and whining. Bleeding the lines fixes the problem. The engine starts and the exhaust water is flowing out the back. We are back in business; everything is working!

It turns out we really needed water, too. We had only 15 gallons remaining in our tank—calculated by how long it took us to fill a 2-gallon bucket, then how long it took to fill our 120-gallon water tank. Based on our calculated daily use from the last refill, we were down to just two days of water—plus another two-days of emergency reserve we’d brought along.

Port Hardy has a lot to recommend it—a wonderful grocery store, beautiful well-maintained parks, and we had an amazing dinner at spectacular First Nations-owned restaurant. But the only privately-owned marina is horrible. They gouge cruisers at $3.86 a foot and you must be careful that your foot won’t go through the rotted docks. (We saw where someone’s foot did.) We’ve never paid anything close to that much, even at the beautiful and remote Toba Wilderness Marina in Desolation Sound. We’re told the previous owners ran Quarterdeck Marina with pride. The new owners could care less. We will be writing the Port Hardy visitor’s center to let them know they have a problem. Boaters will pass up Port Hardy until they have a reasonable place to secure moorage.

Back in business and off the dock we make our way to Beaver Harbor, which is around the point from Port Hardy. We are welcomed by a feeding humpback as we enter and anchor in a pretty, protected bay. We plan on doing some hiking and exploring today. We will spend the next few days working our way to Bull Harbor, where we will await a weather window to round Cape Scott to start down the west side. A gale is blowing there now, but today’s forecast indicates things will calm down by the weekend. This gives us a few days to run the boat, triple check all systems are sound, and double check our confidence before deciding to head down the west side. We can still take the inside route. And we may yet make that decision. I’ll keep you posted.