Well Kept Secret


Imagine cruising to a seaside village at the height of the summer season, and
being the only transient pleasure vessel in a harbor filled with humble fish
boats, work boats, and liveaboard barges. Imagine a community that wrests a
living from the sea, (rather than from pleasure boaters), and where about half
the score of businesses along the main, shoreline road are marine related
rather than blatant tourist traps. Imagine a community of sea people who gather
for coffee most mornings of the year, close knit but still gracious to visitors
and strangers. Now include an incredible, moderately priced restaurant. Such a
destination still exists, not on some remote island in SE Alaska, but within
easy cruising range of most Pacific NW boaters.

A sub-1000 millibar low-pressure system ushered a driving rainstorm into our
2004 cruise. As water streamed down the pilothouse windows and flooded across
the decks of "Indulgence", we reviewed our planned itinerary, (which would
have had us anchored at a Provincial Marine Park, rowing ashore in the downpour
and hiking through a soaking forest). We unanimously decided the schedule would
benefit with a bit of modification. Boaters in the Pacific Northwest learn to
have a "plan B" prepared to deal with undesirable weather conditions; this is
supposed to be "pleasure boating," after all.

"Where shall we go?" asked Jan.

"Let's try Cowichan Bay," I replied.

"I don't remember ever going there," said Jan. "What's at Cowichan Bay?"

"Let's find out!" And so our adventure began, completely spontaneous and
without benefit of advance planning. "Plan B" turned out to be a lucky adlib.

Cowichan Bay is located west of Satellite Channel, and northwest of Saanich
Inlet on Vancouver Island. Hundreds of pleasure boats cruise past Separation
Point at the south end of the Sansum Narrows and the mouth of Cowichan Bay on a
typical summer day. Popular Maple Bay is not so very far from Cowichan, and
Genoa Bay (an inlet from Cowichan Bay), does a steady business in transient
moorage very nearby. Despite a good many boats in the general area, relatively
few cruise on to Cowichan, a wonderful fishing village at the head of the
navigable portion of Cowichan Bay, on the south shore.

We used the binoculars to scan the shoreline when we approached Cowichan, and
discovered an arrow labeled "channel" nailed to a piling. The arrow indicated
an area just outside the breakwater, where an additional sign directed us
around the shoreward end with a welcome reassurance that the route was
considered an "all tides" channel.
The Cowichan Bay Fisherman's Dock is behind the breakwater, and we had several
likely stretches of empty float from which to choose. (At the dock, our GPS
read 48.44.47N and 123.37.05 W). The Fisherman's Dock is the most obvious
overnight moorage option in Cowichan. Guidebooks list others, but most of the
smaller, private marinas appeared to be filled with liveaboards and permanent
moorage. (Conclusion, it may be wise to call ahead before setting a course for
Cowichan Bay).

The Fisherman's Dock was once a federal facility, but it has been transferred
to a local port authority at Cowichan Bay. A fancy marina office with restrooms
and showers stands at the head of the gangway, overlooking a set of sturdy
floats with a rough and tumble atmosphere below. A painted metal table with a
galvanized worktop is found on the main float. The table has a vice mounted on
one corner, as well as a specialized fish cleaning trough designed to dump
severed heads and eviscerated guts back into the bay.
A sign posted at the marina warns, "A fee will be levied for pumping out
sinking boats."
Cowichan Bay Terminal is unlikely to be confused with a yacht club outstation
or a posh resort, but there is a genuine atmosphere to these working docks and
the hospitality extended by the marina management is second to none. Moorage,
including shorepower, was $24 CAN for our 36-foot boat.

Once securely moored and checked in at the marina, we donned our hats and rain
jackets and set out to explore the town. "Town" begins with a monstrous,
recently constructed travel lodge just above the Fisherman's pier. On the
opposite side of the pier stands an 1868 building that was originally built as
the Columbia Hotel, but now houses the Masthead Restaurant on the main floor
and a dive shop downstairs. The Cowichan Bay Shipyard is next encountered,
followed by perhaps another 200-yards of old tumbledown commercial buildings
along the two-lane waterfront strip. We postponed exploring the businesses
until we had paid a surprise visit to one of this magazine's most popular
writers, Catherine Dook.

Catherine and her husband, John, live aboard a sailboat at Cowichan Bay. It was
just her bad luck to be home when an unannounced and uninvited fellow scrivener
came a-knocking on her gunwale. She graciously invited us in from the
rainsquall, and fixed us a cup of hot coffee. Catherine proves as spontaneously
witty and entertaining in conversation as she is in her writing. We shared some
laughs about the magazine business, and Catherine showed us a few of the
onboard "improvements" she has mentioned in her monthly columns. John arrived
before too very long, and we enjoyed an extended visit with this very lovely
couple.

Catherine gave us a walking tour of her immediate neighborhood. We saw "Iron
Mike's" perpetual project boat, and met "Curry McChicken", (a visually
challenged, retired pharmacist who describes himself as "more confident than
most captains when there are rocks about"). The incidents and characters
Catherine describes in her column really do exist at Cowichan Bay.

Although Cowichan Bay is a small community, we found a lot to enjoy on a rainy
day.
The Cowichan Bay Maritime Center is a combination wooden boat society and
maritime museum, and one of the few newer structures along the commercial
strip. The Maritime Center consists of a shoreside building, attached to a long
pier connecting several offshore display areas. Exhibits featuring aboriginal
canoe building, lapstrake hull construction, commercial fishing, and antique
outboard motors occupy the display pods.
A building at the far end of the Maritime Center pier offers panoramic views of
the bay and doubles as a display room for a group of meticulously crafted
wooden models.

Traditional boat building skills are nurtured at the Maritime Center. We met
Susan Douglas, who was finishing a rebuild of her tender. Susan confirmed that
the Maritime Center Members routinely assist one another by sharing unique
abilities and expertise.


Based upon advice from Catherine and John, we stocked up on bread and rolls at
the organic bakery. A large blackboard is mounted just inside the door of the
bakery, and patrons are invited to write humorous or insightful comments there.
We noticed some original poetry, as well as some quotes from famous authors and
philosophers. Based on the wide variety of handwriting styles, we had to
conclude there must be a high percentage of literate and thoughtful people in
the little village of Cowichan Bay. The baked goods proved to be fresh and
scrumptious, and probably due to the late hour of the afternoon when we made
our purchase the baker tossed a number of additional "freebies" into the sack
with our actual order.

John Dook pointed out that there are possibly more liquor and ice cream shops
in Cowichan Bay, per capita, than anyplace else in the world. There are three
liquor stores, and three ice cream shops along the short business strip. We
purchased some ice cream from the "organic" ice cream shop, (Udderly Delicious)
and discovered it was certainly premium quality, even if "organic" seems like
an odd adjective for ice cream,

As afternoon faded to evening, we enjoyed dinner at The Masthead Restaurant.
The mid-nineteenth century dining room lends a close and cozy atmosphere to a
small number of tables, all strategically placed to permit a harbor view. Our
visit coincided with the introduction of a new chef at the Masthead, and our
waiter candidly admitted that he didn't know as much as he should about the new
menu. "We're sort of making it up as we go along."

Our waiter suggested a bottle of locally grown Pinot Blanc, even directing our
gaze through a window to inform us that "the valley just beyond the valley
beyond that mountain is where the grapes are grown. They only bottle about 1200
cases a year." (Based on the number of tables enjoying that same Pinot Blanc,
the Masthead could be the winery's largest customer). The $33 wine lived up to
its enthusiastic billing.

We began with an appetizer, "Duet of Salmon and Scallops Tartare. Red onion,
caper & sweet peppers. Fresh herbs salad with citrus oil agrumes." Very nice
indeed. ($11).

I ordered lamb, crusted with a black olive and garlic tepenade. ($33). Jan
chose the linguine and local seafood pasta, tossed with maple cured bacon,
scallions, and parmesan cheese. ($18) . Jan was very excited about her seafood
pasta. I felt the lamb was commendable and extremely enjoyable, but evidently
turned out by a craftsman, rather than an artist. That may just be me- I've
been trying to find lamb to rival the entrée we enjoyed at Gorge Harbour a few
years ago, and still without success. I'd give the Masthead lamb an "8",
realizing I may go a few more years before once again encountering a "10".

The signature serving at the Masthead could easily be the fresh vegetables that
accompany the entrees. Yummy! While many restaurants spread a tiny handful of
vegetables in an artful arrangement around a main course, The Masthead brings a
heaping bowl of steaming carrots, potatoes, peppers, onions, celery, cilantro,
cabbage, and chives to the center of the table. Jan and I must have had two
pounds of vegetables, and somehow it seemed as if each variety was ideally
cooked. Nothing was mushily overdone, or difficult to chew. We hauled half of
Jan's huge serving of seafood pasta order and a pound of leftover vegetables
back to the boat.
(Umm, umm, omelets!)

Save room for desert if dining at The Masthead. Jan's Molten Bernard Callebaut
Dark Chocolate Cake ($8) took just under ten minutes to prepare, and appeared
to be individually baked. Jan loves chocolate, and thought the cake was
extraordinary
I chose a fruit "tatin" ($7) that proved to be a serving of blueberries and a
memorable sauce on a perfectly turned out puff pastry.

Jan made a spa appointment at the monster, modern hotel for the following
morning, leaving me on my own to spend another few hours poking around the
town. I stopped for coffee on the porch of the Starfish Studio; a fabulous
little arts and crafts shop with a surprisingly well-stocked nautical bookstore
and a coffee shop immediately attached. John Dook was there, along with a crowd
of liveaboards and other boaters who routinely gather there for coffee each
morning. "In the winter months," said John, " they rig up a plastic sheet along
the outside rail to enclose the porch. We get together here every day."

As the group chatted over coffee, somebody pointed out a Canadian flag hanging
from a staff attached to a nearby utility pole. The flag had seen better days,
shredded along a seam and faded from proud red to an embarrassed pink. "I'll
bet you wouldn't tolerate that down in the States," suggested one of the coffee
drinkers.

"Probably not," I agreed. "Some private citizen would come along and replace
it. If we waited for the government to do it, they would have to form a
committee to study the situation until the flag fell down on its own, or became
so unsightly that the public would then accept almost any solution at all. We
suffer from analysis paralysis."

One of the women at coffee laughed. "That sounds familiar! We call the same
process a Royal Commission. We can't solve a problem until the Royal
Commissioners travel all around the world studying possible solutions and
preparing a four foot thick report! Then, more often than not, they conclude
that the problem has grown to the point where it is has become too expensive to
solve!" We all enjoyed the observation that our formal governments have much in
common, regardless of technical differences in specific organization.

I strolled back to the dock in time to meet the freshly spa'd and refurbished
Admiral Jan. She always looks wonderful, but enjoys hearing that she apparently
got her money's worth when she hauls out at a spa or salon for a thorough
detail and refit. I assured her she had never been lovelier, (including the
last time I told her she had never been lovelier). We set off on our summer
cruise again, quite pleased that a rainstorm had inspired us to investigate
Cowichan Bay. We will look forward to stopovers here in years to come.

Fantasizing about a cruise to a colorful seaside village steeped in genuine
nautical tradition, where the natives are friendly and there's almost no
tourist hustle? Set a course for Cowichan Bay. From anywhere in the Northwest,
the reality is closer than you'd think.

Chuck,
Now that you've made Cowichan Bay into an over crowded tourist town!
Good story!
Paul
PS: Buy some real estate there ;-)

"Gould 0738" wrote in message
...
Well Kept Secret

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