There is no preparation for going offshore quite like being offshore. With this in mind, every year BCA sponsors the VICE event (Vancouver Island Cruising Experience). Boats head out into the Pacific for two or three days, sailing towards a selected GPS destination before turning back. This shakedown cruise tests the boat and you – cooking, eating, sleeping, using offshore systems, communicating, and keeping watch at sea – the skills you will need when you leave on your dream voyage. You can learn more about VICE by visiting the VICE group page.

This year’s VICE group was smaller than most, with just one boat participating. While there was initial interest by five BCA boats to participate, three of the boats declined as the date came closer. A fourth boat encountered a problem after heading out, and had to drop out at the last minute. That left one boat, Tillikum, to carry on. Tillikum, a Catalina 470, is skippered by Tim Holley and was crewed by Pam Holley, Deb Bryant, and Ken Russell. Tim and Pam have owned Tillikum for 15 years. Previously, they lived aboard for two years.

Tillikum’s plan was to complete the VICE in preparation for sailing to Mexico in the fall. She had several significant upgrades just before leaving for VICE. The VICE served a double purpose: as a shakedown cruise to test new equipment, and as an opportunity to sharpen the offshore sailing skills of the crew in preparation for further and farther adventures.

Tillikum left Vancouver on July 6 with the intention of reaching Ucluelet on the 12th. While her systems functioned well initially, by the time she reached Victoria Harbour it was found that several of the systems that had been installed by boatyard professionals had some problems. Two days of work were required to analyze and solve the problems. Lesson learned: installing and upgrading systems immediately prior to leaving may require adjustments or troubleshooting after departure. Make sure all systems are tested under working conditions before hurrying off on an extended cruise.

Sunrise on the Ocean

Because of the delay due to equipment fixes and a day spent waiting for the weather to improve, we arrived 3 days later than planned in Ucluelet. We had allowed for only one extra day in our sailing schedule from Vancouver to Ucluelet. Fortunately, that delay was not a problem this year because we did not have to meet up with other boats. Another lesson learned: plan on allowing for at least a few extra days before arriving at a rendezvous point.

Tillikum untied the dock lines in Ucluelet at 13:00 on July 16. The plan was to sail SW on a close reach to our destination area. Because we were the only boat, we did not need to set an exact destination point. Instead, we planned to sail 125 NM out, adjusting our heading based on any changes in wind and wave direction, and then turn around and head back.

Winds in the afternoon of the first day were NW with a fresh breeze of 15 to 20 knots and a one- to two-meter swell. It was a bumpy and wet ride out for several hours before sailing into dense fog. With visibility reduced to 50 meters, we relied heavily on our AIS and radar – this area is very popular for sport fishing and is just outside the shipping lanes at the entrance of the Strait of Juan de Fuca.

Night Sailing

The marine traffic in this area included large freighters, and both large and small fishing boats. Many, perhaps most, fishing boats do not use AIS transmission, so we could see them with radar but not with AIS. If we had not had this ability to “see” through the fog, we would have been forced to slow the hull speed to a crawl and just hope for the best.

As darkness set in, we reefed to reduce our speed to 4 knots because of the zero visibility – we could not see beyond the cockpit enclosure due to the darkness and the fog. The cockpit enclosure was a benefit and a curse. The wind was quite chilly and damp with foggy precipitation. The enclosure kept us warm and dry, but added to the obstructed visibility; but in the fog-shrouded darkness, visibility was pretty much non-existent anyway.

Night watches began. We had agreed to 4-hour watches through the night with two people standing each watch. First watch was from 22:00 to 02:00 and second watch from 02:00 to 06:00. Daytime watches were 2 hours. The experience of standing a four hour watch in complete darkness (fog persisted through the night) while the boat was forging ahead was somewhat disconcerting, but a good lesson in what one must deal with when ocean sailing. Our primary concern was the marine traffic. However, once we were well away from the coast, about 100 NM, there was little traffic except for the occasional large ship.

I would not consider sailing under these conditions without the aid of AIS and radar. AIS lets the big boats know you are there; hopefully, they are watching their radar as well. Radar let us see the boats that were not transmitting AIS – and there were many.

During the day, we saw some large boats without AIS, including an immense log barge being towed by a sea-going tug. The tug showed up on AIS but the barge, towed a quarter mile behind (perhaps more), had no AIS presence. This seems to be typical for towed barges. On a night with clear weather you might see their lights; at night in heavy fog, only radar will tell you that there is a large barge being towed by a tug.

Water everywhere

Dawn was a welcome end to the night, and a few hours later the fog began to clear. We continued sailing SW under reefed sail while cruising at about 7 knots. The waves had calmed, it was a glorious morning, and we were sailing on a smooth sea. At 15:00 we reached 47°31.858′ N / 127°44.056′ W, just a bit over our goal of 125 NM from the coast.

It was beautiful on the ocean. There was a brisk breeze to keep us at hull speed, the waves were mellow, and the deep blue sea extended in all directions – no land in sight! This was blue water cruising at its best. But we were not out to sail to distant lands on this occasion, so we turned 180 degrees and started our journey back to our homeland.

We were all groggy from lack of sleep, but worked on catching up when we were off watch. The remainder of the day provided beautiful sailing but with decreasing winds. By 21:00 we were becalmed. We were still about 100 nautical miles out and the sea surface had turned smooth with a gently rolling one-meter swell. PredictWind predicted a return of wind perhaps in the morning. The thought of drifting through the night was unappealing, so we sparked the iron genny to motor until the wind returned. It was another dark night as dense fog returned with the moon setting before the second watch. Another long night of no visibility and reliance on our AIS/radar for safety and peace of mind.

As the engine droned, we motored through the black night. A highlight of the second watch was seeing eerie, beautiful rings of phosphorescence in the water gliding by – a pod of bio luminescent jellyfish! Two bright flashes in the sky were also reported in the wee hours of the dark night, but without any associated noise. There was no logical explanation we could think of for this phenomenon – another mystery at sea.

At dawn on the third day, we were greeted by a light breeze that slowly built to a moderate breeze by mid-morning. The night’s fog slowly dissipated – a welcome change. The engine was retired and we started sailing again across a smooth sea with a beautiful blue sky overhead – perfect sailing conditions. On the second night we all slept a bit better. We were in an ebullient mood as we headed back to harbour, after a challenging and instructive 50 hours of sailing in the Pacific Ocean.

The Crew

We arrived in Bamfield late in the afternoon. We had accomplished our goal and the boat and crew had performed well. We had spent two nights at sea sailing out and back, 125 miles each way. We had experienced and learned much that will help us when we head out the Strait this fall and turn left.

Lessons learned

Participating in the VICE has certainly been a learning experience, even after 35 years of sailing, including some overnight coastal experience. A few comments on lessons learned:

• Of greatest importance is to have a well-prepared boat with rigging, engine, and navigation systems in good condition. Know your boat.
• Safety is paramount: PFDs and tethers, crew overboard equipment and procedures, a tracking device that someone is monitoring on land, communications, first aid, etc. Redundancy is a plus and critical for some systems such as GPS.
• In this age, I believe it is not wise to venture out onto the ocean without either radar or AIS, and it is best to have both. I would maybe choose AIS if I could only have one—I want those big ships to see me in the dark.
• Know how to connect to multiple weather forecasting resources and monitor them frequently.
• Expect equipment breakdowns and know how to analyze and fix any common boat system problem. Have tools and spare parts.
• Expect the best but prepare for the worst. Sailing in the Pacific is a beautiful and exhilarating experience, but you and your boat should be prepared for whatever happens out there.