The series of royal reaches leading into Princess Louisa Inlet. The entire journey from the start of Jervis Inlet is 60 miles, with no all-weather refuge from the nightly outflow winds. The timing to get through Malibu Rapids must be exact or a boat could find itself jogging around Queens Reach for hours waiting for the next opportunity. The depths shown are in fathoms; each fathom is six feet.

Heavy traffic in Princess Royal Reach. Because Princess Louisa Inlet is only accessible to most boats at slack water in Malibu Rapids, arrival time is critical. Boats of different speeds congregate near the rapids as slack water approaches.

Princess Louisa Inlet.

Looking back through Malibu Rapids. We traveled at top cruising speed for ten hours and hit slack water right on the nose. It's a very narrow piece of water at low tide.

Anne shows her relief that we made it on time. Neither of us had welcomed the thought of staying on the outside all night with no anchorage available.

We arrived at Princess Louisa with thirty minutes to spare before sunset, and the shadows were already deep and long inside the fjord. With thirty minutes of traveling left to do, it was going to be tight timing to find a place for the night. Fortunately, when we reached the head of the inlet, a friendly boater told us where we could find a vacant mooring ring. Even painted fluorescent orange, the rings are hard to find in the dark, but by the time all light had gone, we were secured.

When we woke up the next morning, the whole valley was under a thick and low layer of cloud. We could see the hillside on the outside gradually light up with the sun, and wondered if we had consigned ourselves to a holiday in darkness.

As the morning wore on, the clouds gradually dissipated, and the hillside opposite lit up. Our side of the inlet remained dark the longest, but we had the best sunsets, so it was a reasonable tradeoff.

The water throughout this part of the coast is particularly deep, so boats drop anchor and tie the stern to provided rings, or to trees and rocks in less civilized parts. We anchored in 120 feet of water and had a fifty-foot stern line to land. Tucked in to this corner by the head of the inlet, we had two private waterfalls and no visible neighbours.

Boats stern tie along both shorelines leading up to Chatterbox Falls. Silt outflow from the falls has deposited a layer of material right in front in shallower water which allows anchoring in the middle. It's a better view of the falls, but much noisier.

The dock at the head of Princess Louisa inlet is always crowded. Running water and easy access to the shore is a big draw, as is the chance to be with your friends. Many in this group were part of a flotilla of powerboats traveling in convoy from Seattle to Desolation Sound and back. Responsibility for nightly entertainment and meals rotated through the fleet. We first ran into this group, which we called "The Funny Hat Club" because of our intitial exposure to the entertainment, in Pender Harbour, and we seemed to be in phase with them for the next week. We preferred our solitude.

A small Alaska cruise boat disgorged dozens of seniors in kayaks for an afternoon of exploration before leaving on the next high slack tide. A seaplane full of stewardesses on a photo shoot also added to the action this particular day.

Anne in the best seat on the boat on our front porch. Looking towards Malibu Rapids at the entrance.

An awe-inspiring place.