We had 15-20 knot winds from WNW, and choppy seas, but we made good progress with a single reef in the mainsail. As we approached the mainland shore, the winds shifted to SE, allowing us to make a fast run into Bargain Bay, where we anchored. We were feeling pretty smug about our ability to handle the "strong winds" of the Northwest, which at that point seemed far easier than what we had encountered in the Sea of Cortez.
The next morning, however, we got a stronger taste of what the winds of the Northwest can dish up. We motored out of Bargain Bay and turned north into the Malaspina Channel. There we encountered some of the gnarliest conditions we have seen. There was 25 knots of wind on our nose; the wind had been blowing hard all night and had whipped up steep, short-period swells that came crashing across our decks. With the engine at full power we were barely making progress. We only had to go a few miles before we could turn into the Agammemonon Channel, where I expected more protection from the wind, but after a few minutes (during which the GPS showed us making about 1 knot per hour over ground) Claudia and I looked at each other with a common thought--why are we doing this? We quickly decided to head back to Bargain Bay and wait until conditions settled down. It was a good decision.
Bargain Bay was a great place to anchor, with excellent protection on all sides. It is connected with Pender Harbor by a shallow passage that dinghies can traverse at high water. On our arrival, we found we could pick up (or perhaps I should say pirate) free WiFi connections from the local vacation homes. Our connection was good enough to allow us to watch streaming video of the World Cup final--which was a true bargain. While waiting for the winds to calm down, we stayed a second night, using the extra time and internet connection to search for winter moorage for the boat and to catch up on some academic projects. Here is a picture of Bargain Bay.
The next morning, we headed up the Malaspina Channel again, and this time had no trouble reaching the Agammemnon Channel, which took us north. By lunch time we reached the town of Egmont and stopped at a public dock. From Egmont we hiked a couple of miles up Skookumchuk Narrows, where we looked at the famous Sechelt Rapids. These tidal rapids, which fill and drain Sechelt Inlet, are some of the strongest in British Columbia. We timed our visit for max ebb, and because it was a Spring tide, the rapids were truly impressive.
It is amazing to think that these rapids reverse themselves every few hours, and that boats can pass through during the slack periods.
When we got back to Egmont, we saw that the tide had fallen remarkably--about a 15 foot drop from high to low--which is what drives the rapids.
At about 2 pm we left Egmont to make the 35 mile run up to Princess Louisa Inlet. To enter this inlet, one must pass through another tidal rapid called Malibu Rapids. We hoped to ride the rising tide up toward the inlet, reaching the entrance at high water slack, which was expected at 9 pm. All went as planned. In fact, we had a glorious sail up the inlet, with 15-20 knots of wind directly behind us. We dropped the main and sailed along with only the genoa, but the wind was strong enough that, with the help of the tide, we made 6-7 knots the whole way. At each twist and turn of the channel, the wind shifted to stay behind us. The scenery along the way was spectacular, with high mountains rising right out of the channel, snowy peaks, and waterfalls. 
We passed through Malibu Rapids at slack water and were immediately struck by the beauty and immensity of Princess Louisa Inlet. It is one of the most gorgeous places I have ever been. Imagine Yosemite Valley if the floor of the valley were covered with seawater. The inlet was carved out by glaciers, leaving steep cliffs on both sides. Some of the cliffs are over a mile high. Snow and glaciers at the higher elevations feed a variety of waterfalls that cascade down into the inlet. The high cliffs provide protection from the winds, so that the waters often have a mirror-like surface that reflects the surrounding cliffs. It is an awe-inspiring place.
The best part was that relatively few people were visiting. There were maybe a dozen boats in the entire Inlet when we arrived, and they were scattered far and wide. We were able to pick up a mooring ball behind McDonald Island, near the center of the Inlet, where we stayed for the first couple of days. We later moved to a public dock at the end of the Inlet, where we also found space. But we found that a bit too busy with other boaters, so we anchored near a waterfall and, for the first time, secured the stern of the boat to the shore with a stern-tie (a popular way to anchor in the Northwest).
We spent a lot of time kayaking in the relatively warm water.
At one point a baby seal, who appeared to have lost his mother, came up to the kayaks. He bumped against the kayak as if he were trying to nurse, and cryed a bit. We felt sorry for him, but decided there was nothing we could (or should) do for him.
Near some of the waterfalls, we found a profusion of local berries growing. They were ripe and delicious. We gathered and ate them with great delight.
Even with all these pictures, it is difficult to convey the serenity and grandeur of Princess Louisa Inlet. It is truly a special place. Our visit has been one of the highlights of our whole sabbatical. The picture below gives some sense of the height of the cliffs--that is Sabbatical (the boat) anchored along the shore. 
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