Just a few miles from the head of Jervis Inlet, though, is a small appendix which has been described as "perhaps the most beautiful place on earth." This four nautical mile long body of water is known as Princess Louisa Inlet. But let's backtrack a little. Let's return to the noise and bustle of Vancouver and begin our voyage there.

A couple of days before leaving, I begin listening to the marine weather forecasts regularly. I am, after all, heading into the Strait of Georgia. On departure day, with a full 500 litres of fuel, and provisions for a week on board, I back my 36 foot trawler, Greene Point, out of its slip in Coal Harbour. With a seven knot cruise speed, working with the tides and currents is important. I leave Coal Harbour about two hours before the end of an ebb tide. This receding tide will help me out through the Lions' Gate and along the shore of West Vancouver. After I cross the mouth of Howe Sound, the tide will change to flood, help me around Cape Roger Curtis on Bowen Island and give me a much appreciated nudge northward in the Strait of Georgia.

From here my voyage up the Sunshine Coast begins. After leaving Gower Point, to starboard, it is about twenty miles to the next sheltered harbour. On the mainland, the small communities of Roberts Creek, Wilson Creek, and Davis Bay are dotted along the waterfront. Then the shore recedes into Trail Bay and the town of Sechelt with its enormous gravel quarry. In the distance to port are the silhouettes of the Vancouver Island mountain range. I am now close aboard the uninhabited Trail Islands. About half an hour later, I pass the picturesque Merry Island light to port, and enter Welcome Passage.

A sense of relaxation seems to begin about here. Welcome Passage narrows as I pass South Thormanby Island to port. My first night's anchorage is nearby, about six hours after leaving Coal Harbour. I will spend tonight at Smuggler Cove Marine Park. This secluded cove is completely sheltered from all directions. Its narrow entrance, and a couple of other spots along its length, require close attention to the chart. When entering, I keep Isle Capri close (but not too close) on my port side. I meander through the cove to my favourite anchorage, at the very head, keeping the starboard hand day beacon close on the starboard side and entering this tiny dead end. After dropping and setting the anchor, I hop in the dinghy and take a stern line to shore. This prevents Greene Point from swinging into other boats in the anchorage. I mark this stern line with fenders to keep other boaters from attempting to pass between Greene Point and shore. With the diesels shut off, there is silence. But wait. It is not silent. My ignorance of ornithology disappoints me again. I would love to identify those chirps and tweets coming from the nearby forest. There are smells not present in the city - the smells of dry fir needles heated by an afternoon of hot sun, the aroma of soil on the forest floor, and a multitude of other scents that make up the smell of the rainforest - all this slightly modified by the fragrance of the sea. Yes, I will take the dinghy to shore and stretch my legs on the well-groomed trails.

After pulling the dinghy well up the beach and tying it to a log, I take a short walk across this peninsula to a little nameless beach that looks out to Grant Island and the Strait of Georgia. After taking a good stretch here, my home made pasta sauce waiting in the fridge on board beckons me and I return to Greene Point for a tasty meal of spaghetti, French bread, and a glass of Chianti. After a few pages of yet another seafaring story, I listen to the 9:30 p.m. marine weather forecast before turning in. All looks good for the continuation north tomorrow. While on the topic of books to read, I highly recommend M. Wylie Blanchet's story "The Curve of Time". During the 1920s and 30s, Ms. Blanchet, her five children and their dog explored this coast aboard their 26 foot power boat Caprice. It is of a different, more sedate time, and sets a fitting mood for exploring these waterways at seven knots.

Dawn brings fair weather again, but I am in no rush to leave Smuggler Cove. The journey to Princess Louisa Inlet from here would be about seven hours, and I have no need to spend that long under way on this trip. My destination today is Green Bay on Nelson Island. The tide turns to flood at about one o'clock this afternoon, so I will wait until then to weigh anchor. This morning, I will have a leisurely breakfast, a second, and perhaps a third cup of coffee on the after deck, and enjoy another chapter or two of my book. Another trip to shore for some beachcombing as the tide recedes will complete the morning. It is easy to pass a morning in these anchorages without getting bored. (It is easy to let a whole day slip by for that matter.)

At about 12:30, after checking the oil and coolant, I fire up Greene Point's twin diesels. The anchor is winched up and I am on my way. I squeeze out past Isle Capri and turn to starboard. Immediately after leaving Smuggler Cove, Secret Cove is to starboard. This bay has several bays within it. There are marinas, stores, and even a hotel. On this trip, however I will pass it by.

In a little under an hour, I pass Whitestone Islands, marking the entrance to Bargain Bay (another sheltered anchorage). A couple of miles further on, I have Martin Island to port, and Charles and Williams Islands to starboard, marking the entrance to Pender Harbour. This harbour has several communities, a selection of anchorages, marinas, hotels, pubs, and at Madeira Park, an I.G.A. store. Also at Madeira Park, is a public boat ramp. This would make an excellent starting point for those trailering their boats . On this excursion, I will save this harbour for the trip back.

Just past Pender Harbour is the entrance to Agamemnon Channel, which leads along the east side of sparsely settled Nelson Island to the main channel of Jervis Inlet. This is the route to Princess Louisa Inlet. About four miles up this channel on the port side is Green Bay, today's destination. Although this can be a popular stop for those on their way to Princess Louisa, it is early in the season, and there is only one other boat here. I anchor in the small bay on my port side. This time after anchoring, I dinghy to shore and shower in the waterfall. In June, it is already warm enough to make this a pleasure. After my douse in this cascade, I once again relax on the after deck, and enjoy my book. For some exercise in Green Bay, I explore the cove by dinghy. This passes a few hours. I enjoy another meal created in Greene Point's galley and retire after a perfect day.

Now from here, it is about thirty-five nautical miles to Malibu Rapids, the entrance to Princess Louisa Inlet. These rapids must be negotiated at slack tide, which occurs about twenty five minutes after the tide change at Point Atkinson in West Vancouver. I should depart Green Bay about five hours before the slack tide, so I will leave at 9:30 a.m. for the 2:30 slack tide at Malibu Rapids.

In the morning, I head north in Agamemnon Channel, past the Earls Cove ferry terminal, then Skookumchuck Narrows and Sechelt Inlet. A short way up Skookumchuck Narrows is the village of Egmont, the end of the road - last chance for fuel and supplies. There is a boat launch at the Egmont Marina for those with trailer boats.

Leaving Nelson Island and Captain Island to port, I enter Prince of Wales Reach. There are no more houses - no more roads. Apart from a few logged areas, it looks much as it did when Captain Vancouver sailed here. This inlet was his last attempt to find the northwest passage. I can only imagine what it must have felt like to sail in these waters with fickle winds, no anchorages and no knowledge of what lay around the next corner. As Prince of Wales Reach curves to port, Vancouver Bay is to starboard. In June, waterfalls cascading from steep cliffs are everywhere. About an hour after Vancouver Bay, the Brittain River flows in on the port side, the inlet turns to starboard, and I am in Princess Royal Reach.

It takes almost two hours to travel this stretch of Jervis Inlet, but it is in no way tedious. It is splendid. There is a turn to port into Queens Reach, leaving Deserted Bay to starboard, and a little over four miles later, Malibu Rapids is to starboard. (Vancouver thought it was a river and missed Princess Louisa Inlet.) I have hit slack tide and slip through these narrows effortlessly. To port, looking very out of place, is Malibu Camp. This resort was built in the late 1940s to attract the Hollywood high society. They came, but not for long. By the early 50s it sat abandoned until it was purchased by "Young Life", a non-denominational Christian group based in Colorado. Ever since, it has operated as a summer camp for teenagers. There is a dock, and visitors are welcomed for a tour.

I am now in Princess Louisa Inlet, and as awestruck as ever. I must remind myself that I am in tidewater. It seems more like the Rocky Mountains or Yosemite Park. This inlet is about four nautical miles long, and about half a mile wide, with mountains reaching from 5000 to 8000 feet and depths of over 600 feet. After visiting Princess Louisa Inlet, the late Erle Stanley Gardner, crime writer and creator of Perry Mason, had this to say:

"There is no use describing that inlet. Perhaps an atheist could view it and remain an atheist, but I doubt it.

"There is a calm tranquility which stretches from the smooth surface of the reflecting waters straight up into infinity. The deep calm of eternal silence is only disturbed by the muffled roar of throbbing waterfalls as they plunge down from sheer cliffs.

"There is no scenery in the world that can beat it. Not that I have seen the rest of the world, I don't need to. I've seen Princess Louisa Inlet"

He concluded: "It is more than beautiful. It is sacred."
About half way up the inlet, to port, is MacDonald Island, with anchoring possibilities as well as mooring buoys. After taking a slow turn to port, it comes into view - Chatterbox Falls. It is out of a fantasy. It is too beautiful. A boat can anchor off the falls, or there is a public dock adjacent to them.

After tying up at the dock, I walk to shore. Off the end of this dock is a rainforest where you expect gnomes would live. Moss hangs from broadleaf maples and giant cedars. I cross a small wooden bridge at Loquilts Creek, walk another couple of minutes, and I am beside Chatterbox Falls. These falls are about 130 feet high, and a sign warns that it is unwise to attempt to climb beside them. Twelve people have lost their lives in doing so. There is no need to climb. Looking up at these falls and feeling their spray is enough.

There are several facilities by Chatterbox Falls. At the top of the dock is an information board and guest book. Brochures are available here. There are pit toilets, a barbecue pit, tables, and a picnic shelter. A tent could be set up on shore here. There are hikes long and short, including a grueling climb to "The Trapper's Cabin". However, exploring the inlet and its multitude of waterfalls by dinghy will pass time quite effectively.

It can be very busy here in July and August, although people at the dock always seem accommodating. Rafting is usually possible. May and June can be a gamble, but if the weather is fine, the fresh greens of the broadleaf maples and the multitude of waterfalls make it an excellent time of year to visit. In September, the weather is often sunny and warm, and the hoards have left. This, too, can be an perfect time for a visit to Princess Louisa. In all, this inlet is a remarkable place. I never tire of it. Its mood will change depending on the weather and the light. Really, I can't think of a bad time to go there. Everybody should see it at least once.

About The Photos:
First: Smuggler's Cove
Second: Princess Louisa Inlet
Third: Waterfall: Prince of Wales Reach
Photographs © Ian Cook