It’s mid-September now, and we’re kicking off the last leg of our boating season with a trip into Desolation Sound Marine Park, our go-to spot for the past couple of Septembers. After the summer rush, this place really empties, leaving tons of room in the anchorages and that peaceful vibe we love.
Desolation Sound Marine Park – Roffey Island Anchorage
We started from our base in Lund, where we’d just resupplied after a foggy haul down from the Broughtons. A quick rainstorm rolled through a few days earlier, whipping up northwest and southeast winds with whitecaps out in the harbor, so we hunkered down at the dock to wait it out. That gave us time to run into Powell River for a massive grocery haul, tackle a mountain of laundry, top off our water tanks, and recharge the battery bank, which was running low from all that overcast weather.
Captain Anne got some well-deserved rest, too, plus we hit up Nancy’s Bakery for their killer cinnamon buns and tarts. Seriously, don’t miss those if you’re in town. With the storm blowing away the lingering wildfire smoke, visibility was crystal clear all the way to Vancouver Island, and the forecast promised a couple more weeks of decent weather before we haul out at Fin Cove’s Jack’s Boatyard. It’s bittersweet; the season flies by too fast, but what a year it’s been so far.
We cast off on a gorgeous sunny morning, cruising past the Copeland Islands, a provincial marine park with a few snug little anchorages tucked in. I spotted a sailboat and a trawler anchored up in one, and it’s no wonder kayakers flock here from Lund; the park’s got platforms and outhouses on the small islands for easy camping. Thulin Passage can get bumpy from boat wakes, though, and if the winds pick up, it wouldn’t be the coziest spot. Still, on a calm day like today, it’s stunning.
We powered around the corner, and bam, there it was, that iconic Desolation Sound view: towering mountains rising straight out of the sparkling water, never gets old, no matter how many times we see it.
Dodging a massive log along the way (those things pop up everywhere up here), we motored down the channel toward Tenedos Bay, another popular anchorage with its mix of calm bays and forested shores.
Nearby, the pretty little Curme islands are kayak heaven, dotted with campsites where paddlers set up for multi-day trips, super serene, especially off-season.
Pushing deeper into the park, we hit the heart of it: the cluster around Prideaux Haven, Melanie Cove, and Laura Cove. In peak summer, these spots are a madhouse, boats jammed in like sardines, but this time, it was a ghost town. Maybe seven or eight vessels scattered across the bays, total bliss. We bypassed them for something new and tucked away: the pint-sized anchorage at Roffey Island, just a stone’s throw from the action but worlds apart in peace.
It’s tight quarters, barely room for one or two boats amid all the rocks and shallows, so we had the whole place to ourselves. Checking the chart, we eyed the depths in meters: we cleared a 10m spot and swung around a 6m mark, dropping anchor at high tide in about 10-12 meters with our trusty 44lb claw anchor and 30 meters of 3/8 chain for that heavy hold. No swinging too close to shore, even with the rocks lurking everywhere, you can see ’em poking up at low tide like nature’s own obstacle course. Some folks squeeze into an even shallower spot marked on the chart, or back in the deeper end if you’ve got a longer rode, but we nailed our spot just right.
We settled in for a couple of days, and man, it was magic. The first morning, September 16th, dawned super calm, with temps climbing higher than usual to around 26C, or 80°F. The water hovered at a chilly but doable 18-19°C (high 60s Fahrenheit), so we geared up for a swim. I dipped in first, that initial shock hitting like a slap. Why do we torture ourselves like this? But once you’re moving, it’s invigorating. We even dinghied over to a nearby island to swim off the rocks, soaking up the sun before it dipped behind the ridge.
Seals were our constant company; one popped up right by the boat, hauling out on a low-tide rock for a sunbath, then repeating the routine the next morning, an adorable little routine. We explored the shoreline by dinghy too, buzzing along the calm waters, spotting more seals and just breathing in the quiet.
The next day brought cooler temps in the high teens Celsius, 60s F, and a bit of rain, letting up into sun, revealing a rainbow arching over Homfray Channel, picture-perfect. High tide submerged most of those sneaky rocks, a reminder to keep your eyes peeled when maneuvering.
With the long-range forecast hinting at rainier days by month’s end, we’re milking every minute in this gem of a cove, peaceful, private, and a far cry from summer chaos. It’s the perfect cap to our season before we head back to Lund and transition back to our RV.
