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Dent Lodge is a piece of paradise located in the midst of what they call the Inside Rapids Area just north of Desolation Sound. It’s an area where the boating traffic is controlled by the flood and ebb and the resulting variation of currents through the rapids, and there are several. If you are making long passages through this area you have to plan your travel time to take into consideration all the rapids that you will traverse that day to make sure you arrive at each one at slack or near slack time to go through in a safe manner. Dent Lodge is a bit of unexpected luxury that you can enjoy in this remote area. It’s over the top from the few other available stops that are pretty rustic. Big Bay Resort closed down two years ago
and it was an important stop for boaters heading north or south as it gave them
a place to tie up to safely when waiting for the right timing of the rapids and
continue their journey. It was also a place to really be able to stretch your
legs, have a warm meal cooked for you and enjoy the surrounding scenery. Dent Lodge, we had heard, is owned by Nordstroms and Mc Donalds (not the hamburger chain). It’s a very well run lodge and the food and service was spectacular. A very small staff runs it and you quickly get to know them all as they treat you like family. The chef, in his souse chef outfit, even came out to help take our lines as we docked. There were about three or four of us that came in to the dock in quick succession, as they all do I guess, because things around here are timed with the rapids. Everything is gauged by the rapids and the ebb and flow.
The lodge is perched right on a rocky projection of land overlooking another smaller rapid only traversable by very small boat at slack if you are the adventurous type. Dent is located just a short hop and skip from Devils Hole and Dent Rapids. If you so desire you can sit out on one of their multi-leveled wooden decks, built out overhanging this smaller rapid, or even soak in their Jacuzzi built into one of the decks, while watching the rapids ebb and flow and settle momentarily to slack and you will be thoroughly mesmerized and entertained. It’s a wonderful place to sit and enjoy a relaxing glass of wine and watch the whole natural phenomenon. Or you can, if you are so inclined, work up a sweat in their log cabin exercise room as you gaze out their picture window to a most magnificent view up the channel. Best just enjoy the Jacuzzi and a glass of wine is my opinion. The lodge property isn’t large. There are a few rental cabins nearby connected by wooden walking bridges stretching across small water inlets and the setting is beautiful. We found one hiking trail but it was so overgrown and mosquito infested that we personally preferred just walking around the lodge area. Since there was no place to go beyond the lodge it finally forced us relax and just enjoy the beauty and serenity of the place. Sometimes you get so tired of exploring all that there is to see at each new stop that it’s just nice to come to a place where you just sit back and enjoy. This was it.
We had a lovely dinner that evening and we precluded the dinner with a glass of wine out on their decks over looking the rapids. The food was excellent. Two dinner choices are offered and you make your decision well before dinner time, usually in the afternoon, so the chef has time to prepare his wonderful meal for you. It’s a well presented four course meal but not too much or too heavy that you walk away feeling you need to starve the next day to make up for it. It’s such a beautiful setting to enjoy a nice meal and the friendly staff makes it all the more pleasurable. There were a few other guests that night so we weren’t alone in the dining room. (They say it’s still early in the season yet for them and that August is their busiest month.) Every one of the guests seemed friendly and talked to each other. One older man was alone and was photographing his dinner as each course came out. We became curious and found out he’s here to write an article for Pacific Coast Fishing. He took a picture of us and the chef when we got out deserts so who knows, we may be in the October issue, he says.
On our second day here, I decided to go out on a fishing trip with a guide. Larry didn’t have any desire to go and said he would stay with Ziggy. I had to be up and ready at 7:00 AM. My guide that day was Herb and I saw him arrive at the dock from Big Bay area right on time in his little Grady White. I bundled myself with layers as it was quite chilly and off I went with this guy. It was freezing cold out so I layered up pretty well and brought my sun screen and a bottle of water. Herb said the guides all usually go to the same spots. There are two, one up in the crescent recess of Calm Channel on north side of Dent Island just across from Denham Island. When the current changes they all move over to another crescent recess in Nodales Channel across from the NE side of East Thurlow Islands. It wasn’t long before I learned that Herb lives up here all year long, loves the outdoors and hates the city and all that goes with it and that pretty much set the course of conversation for the day. We trolled up and down this little patch of water with about five other guides on little Grady Whites all doing the same thing. One direction you were in the sun and hot and I’d take my jacket off, then we’d turn the other direction to troll back over the same strip of water and we’d be in the shade of the pilot station and it’d be freezing and I’d put my jacket back on. This went on for hours. As we passed some of the other guides doing the same thing, Herb would ask how they were doing and some would say they caught a Chinook or a double header which meant two at once. It was strange being out here on this boat with this guy so different from me. We searched for common topics of conversation and at times it was a bit challenging and it was a bit weird because everyone else in the boats nearby seemed to catch a fish here and there but we got absolutely nothing, not even a bite. Actually it was OK with me though as I don’t really like the idea of killing something, even a fish, but was looking forward to filling the freezer with some good fish to BBQ and share with friends when they came up. But I have to say it was the most boring four hours I’ve spent in a long time as nothing, absolutely nothing happened. I told Herb it wasn’t a big deal as my freezer was full of food and it’s not like we needed anymore. In fact I told him that Larry and I were discussing what would we have to do with the food in the freezer to make room if I caught a fish today. We’d have to do something terrible like eat all the ice cream or worst case scenario and more likely we’d have to throw something out or hopefully be able to give it away to make room. Anyway, I didn’t have to make that decision as we caught absolutely nothing. Herb pointed out Corky Island covered in lounging seals and we saw a few hanging around the waters where we were trolling. He said it’s not a good sign when the seals are coming here as they eat the salmon and sometimes just snap the salmon right off the hook when you are trying to pull your catch in. He said that they’ve been seeing more and more seals coming in to their area. They think it’s because the Gulf is getting fished out and they are forced to come in here looking for food. We hear on the radio that a pod of Orcas are in the channel up by Denham. Herb says “Oh great” sounding even more exasperated. I on the other hand think to myself that this is the most exciting thing happening on this boring fishing excursion. I asked why he sounded so exasperated as I thought things were looking up. (I’d much rather see some whales than kill a poor salmon that is trying to return up stream to plant it eggs after a 15 thousand mile trip all the way to areas like Taiwan and back. What right do I have to take that away from it? No wonder the poor guy isn’t catching a thing. I’m sure my bad karma is jinxing this whole fishing adventure.) Herb said when the Orcas are here they are also searching for the salmon and will make fishing that much more difficult as they can completely clean the area out very quickly. By now, I’ve broken the ice with Herb and we’re talking about our meager understanding of world affairs and the terrible conditions of the sea and fish life and how man can often be a wasteful, selfish, destroyer and user of our natural resources and you know all the regular depressing stuff. This guy has a real negative attitude but I understand where he was coming from as we’ve seen much of what he’s talking about during our last couple years cruising. I could tell that things must be tough for the locals here as I heard more than once that the mega rich are coming in and buying up places like Big Bay (bought by Peter Bilt) and have completely scraped the place out to make a private enclave for themselves rather than leaving the lodge to keep the local people working and leaving a much needed place for boaters to stop. The locals said the new owners offered 200 thousand dollars more than the asking 3 point something million offered so they could buy it out from another buyer that had plans to keep the lodge and tradition going. Someone said, “What’s 200 thousand when you’re talking that kind of money? It would have given something back to the community and allowed us to continue on economically.” Herb said he and some buddies have had to purchase a big fuel tank and fill it so they would be able to have some fuel for their boats as Big Bay was the only fuel supplier around, amongst the supplier for just about everything else the locals needed like supplies and groceries. He said it costs them 150 dollars each time to get fuel because they had to go all the way to Campbell River to get it and they couldn’t afford to do that. I was suddenly realizing during all this trolling we were doing back and forth, that I was taking for granted our use of what to him is his very valuable fuel. He said his gas costs about $5 a gallon.
LOST A FINGER As he was talking, I noticed he had lost his index finger on his left hand. By now I feel I’m feeling pretty comfortable with him enough so that I felt like I could ask him how he lost it. He said he lost it when he was 11 years old. He was living at that time on a ranch in a remote area of Alberta. He was chopping wood and was distracted by his sister who was chasing a squirrel. The squirrel ran up a tree and pee’d in her eye and she screamed. That’s when he took his eyes off what he was doing and chopped it off. They were twelve miles from any services and had to walk a mile to get to the train tracks where someone was. The engineer took a chance and ran the engine down the tracks a few miles (when he not supposed to because of the train scheduling) and luckily got him to the doctor without mishap. The doc couldn’t save his finger though. He told him he could sew it on but it would be stiff and useless, so at the age of eleven he made the decision to tell the doc to just leave it off. We got to talking about that hiker that was in the national news awhile back that got caught under a boulder and had to cut his arm off. That story flickered Herb’s memory to tell me a few more horror stories of friends accidents, which usually happened while running a Caterpillar or some sort of heavy machinery. Most frequently the accidents happened when they stopped to take a pee and then the Catepillar or whatever rolls back over on them. One friend he said had an arm cut off and another, a tractor just rolled right on top of his leg and he had to cut it off with a Swiss Army knife. So you can see how my gory day is going. Tales like this are common place out in the wilderness I guess.
SPEAKING OF PEEING Speaking of peeing, I’d been out here with him for almost 4 hours and was feeling the urge. I said to him, “Well, speaking of peeing, I don’t know what the situation is here on the boat but we may have to head back to the lodge pretty soon.” He laughed and apologized. He said he should have told me first off that there was a pot to go in on the boat. He then opened up the little hatch that led down to the bunk and in the step was the toilet. He lifted up the step lid and sure enough there was the little potty. He gave me a quick demonstration on how to pump the thing and where the toilet paper was, hung on a big nail in the wood trim nearby, and then told me “While you’re doing your thing I’ll do my thing out on the back of the boat.” So I climbed down into the very small space and he closed the hatch behind me and I managed to squat over this little teensy space and relieve myself. I then realized that I forgot to ask if it was OK to flush the toilet paper. I yelled out to him through the thin material of the door asking what to do with the toilet paper but he didn’t hear me or more likely he wasn’t finished with his “business” yet. Finally he yelled back that it was “OK to put it in down the toilet.” Well, that was an experience I’ll remember for a long time. It was such a weird experience to be out here like this with this nice guy that I only met a few hours before and doing personal private things and talking of such a magnitude of worldly subjects and meanings of life and then in a few hours never to see him again. Finally though, and thank goodness for it, it was time to head back. All the guides are doing the same thing. I asked him if the locals run through Dent Rapids waiting for slack or do they just run them. He said, “No they don’t always wait for slack but go through them but not at full force because that’s how you can get yourself killed.” He then headed at high speed towards the lodge and for a moment it looked like he was going to run the creek by the lodge. He pointed to some rocks that were exposed and said he usually doesn’t’ go through there when they are showing but continued on ahead regardless. I’m now finally having some fun and thinking “Oh boy we’re going to shoot through the winding twisting rapids while they are running and then right at the last moment he swerved and turned, I guess deciding it wasn’t safe or maybe he thought he’d give me a thrill not realizing that I like that kind of stuff. Oh well, so much for my day of fishing. At least one salmon still has a chance to make it home. I was actually relieved we didn’t catch anything, especially when Herb told me of how badly everything is fished out here. He said it’s so bad that when they catch a salmon they save the eggs and take them to the hatchery. He says you have to do something to save them as the government is doing nothing but taking our money.
That afternoon Larry blew up my inflatable kayak as it was just about slack tide and Zig and I wanted to take a spin around the docks over to the creek. It was the most amazing experience kayaking near the rapid waiting for complete total slack and then watching for the first little sign of the change ebb and flow change. It was so peaceful when it began it’s slowing approaching slack. It seemed like time was stopping.
OTTERS’ NATURAL BABYSITTER It was low tide too and all the magnificent kelp was exposed and marine life was clearly magnified in the crystal clear water. The kelp was so beautiful flowing in the water like a long mane of brunette hair, soft and flowing. I paddled over to a big patch of it and the kayak just came to a stop and nestled into their long tube like arms like a protective raft. It reminded that the sea otters do the same thing. Now I understand why. When they have their babies, they wrap their baby in the long flowing leaves of the kelp and it holds the baby there so gently and securely like a natural babysitter as the mother then is free to go hunt for food to bring back knowing that their baby will still be there safe and sound sleeping in the wrapping of the kelp. I felt the same feeling as the kelp cradled Zig and I securely there while the water was slack or gently moving. What an amazing thing that the otter would be so ingenious to figure that out. I’m not sure I would have thought of something like that. Even when the water was beginning to run again we were held safely in place by the kelp.
The water is so clear here, amazingly clear. I can see all sorts of water life and colorful sea urchins of all different colors and hundreds of brilliant yellow and orange sea stars. The sea kelp is beautiful too with its many long strips of kelp in beautiful multi shaded brown tones all flowing gently in the water, moving to the different mini currents pushed and turn by the varied shape of the rocky bottom. The bulb and thick stems that float are hard and firm like thick plastic and are soft and silky to the touch. It’s a beautiful quiet environment to enjoy at slack and then turns so violent a the tide turns. You’d never know the beauty that exists here unless you take the opportunity to kayak over it at slack.
As it became almost total slack, we paddled into the center of the creek and as we did the water finally came to a dead stop at mid stream and everything became still and quiet. All the previous movement below us stopped, absolutely nothing moved. The water became glass and mirror like when just moments before it was flowing and just minutes and hours before it was white cresting rapids, with swirling boils and rip currents. Now it was like as if time had stopped, not a ripple, it was quiet, no more rushing sounds of masses pf strong water racing across rocks, fighting and pushing each other’s mass as each mass of water strengthens and collides and challenges each other until the stronger one wins out and the weaker recesses. We could hear birds singing in the nearby trees and in the sky a big eagle glided over us, taking a long curious look at us and continued on following the creek to the open bay on the other side. You must cherish the moment because soon without any warning or sensing of it, the long kelp strips begin to make their way turning and slowly gliding into another direction. The bulbs of the kelp are straight up at slack and now beginning to lean in the direction of the current flow. We begin to feel the current pulling us with it. We ride it gently as we don’t need to paddle now. It’s slowly carrying us out. We experienced this wonderful moment and let it take us away and ride the free ride with the current back to the dock.
ANOTHER FINE DINNER AND TIME TO GO We have another wonderful dinner at the lodge our last night and again good friendly service as we dined out on the porch looking out over Yuculta Rapids and what was the former Big Bay Resort beyond at the base of the huge round topped mountain. Four years ago we counted eighteen eagles soaring overhead there, enjoying the warm updraft coming off the shear mountain face. What an ending to a wonderful visit. The docks are empty except for two other boats and only another couple is dining with us tonight. We feel like we have the place to ourselves and get personalized service. We think to ourselves there is a definite advantage coming here just before the height of the season as we are on first name basis with the staff and have a chance to chit chat with them asking about their lives and what it is like to spend a summer in this remote area on a small patch of land. We are envious.
Well, they had us snuggled way in the back slip at Dent. We had a few boulders to stay away from on the way out and a big yacht on the other side. Larry wanted to take the boat out as he was a little worried about how the current might affect our maneuverings. He decided to run the boat from the back cockpit station and wanted me to stay at the helm. We had the steering helm cranked to 14 to the port to help give us a quick turn with the help of the thrusters. We turned engines on and got ready and those dam headsets were on the blink again. They are the cheapest piece of crap. I can’t believe that some manufacturer can make such crap and get away with it. We’ve had nothing but trouble with those things. So now, again, they have conked out right when we really need them. I think we’ll consider getting some headsets with big ear covers next time. If and when we get to Port Hardy at the top of Vancouver Island we’ll have to try to find some of these cheap bastards there or something else. Anyway, Larry threw the lines aboard, hopped on and backed her out. I squatted at the helm so I could see Larry in the cockpit. I watched him and waited for him to signal when he wanted me to straighten the wheel. We must have been thinking the same thing because as soon he came to the back door and waved I had already been thinking it was time to straighten it. I did and we backed out just fine. The eddy was pulling us towards the boulders though and Larry said to go up and turn the helm again which gave us a good extra swing around. No big deal but a good lesson. We’re at near slack and you couldn’t even really feel the rapids as we went through. Somehow I like to come through those rapids when they are running a bit like when we came up here the first time on our way to Alaska. You really feel what these rapids are all about when you traverse them when they are running a bit. Larry is looking at the tide book now and it looks like at Greenpoint Rapids slack is now and will be turned just about now. We’ll be there in about an hour and will be going with the current.
MAGNIFICENT VISTAS EXCEPT FOR THE LOGGING We’re passing the wide open area just north of Dent and looking up to the magnificent view of Frederick Arm. In the distance are the snow capped peaks that magically look so close you almost think you could reach out and touch them. We can see a few logging camps situated on the shore up the Arm. They are floating barges like little transportable villages. The mountains and hillsides everywhere are being heavily logged out, with big scraps of bare land and patches and piles of leftover scrap everywhere. It’s really a disgrace.
To our left down Nodales Channel, several of the sports fishermen I saw the other day on my fishing charter are clustered in the predictable recessed cleavage of the channel and beyond we see vistas that twist and turn down the channel twist which eventually dumps into Johnstone Strait. Some little but big bellied bird that looked like a duck flew by about fifty feet off our starboard, flapping his winds madly, not in take off or landing mode, just passing us about 5 five above the water. He’s going triple the speed of us, sort of weird being passed by a flapping duck, a fat one at that.
We’re passing Philips Arm and what looks like a big hatchery or fish farm is at the entrance. Off to our left is a place called Shoal Bay and there’s a sign on one of the few buildings that says Thurlow. There’s a very rustic building, covered in moss, perched on posts over the water. They have a nice sturdy looking public dock and a sign saying “Pub Open”. Now that sounds inviting. There’s a cleared grass area in the crotch of the bay and a cute little green roof covered cabin. The book says there’s a little resort up in there and that you can anchor safely in the bay but the bay is exposed to northerlies and we think you would feel the wakes of boats coming and going up the channel like us but it does have nice views up Phillips Arm. I’ll bet that pub is used by a few of these loggers. This is a beautiful stretch of cruising waters. The area is sprinkled with a couple little lodges and places to stop. We’re heading down what they call Chancellor Channel and we feel like we are the only people cruising today. Not a soul to be seen anywhere nor a peep on the radio. We’re passing Bickley Bay which is said to be a good anchorage for boats waiting out the right time for Dent Rapids behind us or Green Point Rapids ahead. It’s not a pretty bay today as they have clear cut the hillside and all that remains are scattered debris and exposed dirt. I’m amazed at all the logging that we have seen on this trip. It certainly wasn’t this bad before. I remember this channel when we were returning from our trip to Alaska. We were traveling with another boat, our friends, MV Raven, and stopped at Cordero Lodge for dinner and dockage. When we came in to dock the currents were running so hard when we all had to make a couple tries. It was a little hairy that’s for sure. That’s where we finally split with Raven after traveling the summer on and off with them throughout Alaska and the remote areas of British Columbia. People we didn’t know before we left but gained a lasting friendship with through our bond that developed on that adventure. We headed to Big Bay after we split and spent a night there. On the way north to Alaska, way early in the season, no one was there except a few boats but on the way back the place was so crowded. There was no power at the docks so everyone ran their generators all night long to keep warm. We were trapped in at the docks amongst these big boats and breathed terrible diesel fumes the whole night. It was a horrible experience that I’ll never forget. Guess that’s why I have such an obsession against diesel fumes. GREEN POINT RAPIDS Well we just went through Green Point Rapids and it was running. We usually run 9 knots but when we went through Green Point rapids we went up to 13.7 knots! Woooo Weee! The waters were swirling and boiling but in this boat you don’t feel the effect like we did when we came through here in our old trusty Grand Banks. So now we’re heading down Chancellor Channel and now need to decide whether to head on to Whirlpool Rapids or make the break for Johnstone Strait. The weather report says small craft warning with winds picking up this afternoon but we’re still early in the day and Larry thinks we should head up Johnstone and give it a try. DECIDING WHICH WAY TO GO We’ve arrived at our decision spot. We can head up Wellbore Channel and go through Whirlpool Rapids which will be ebbing at half speed. We’re about an hour from max rapid. Or we can continue out Chancellor Channel to Johnstone Strait. We’ll have an ebb tide going out there and winds will be directly on our nose, with predicted 10-15 knots which doesn’t sound bad but there’s an area there where the currents are some of the strongest in all of Johnstone Strait and at Kelsey Bay the Strait narrows and can be even more of a hazard or uncomfortable ride for small boaters. Now the world small boat is the question that never is clearly described. No one will ever clearly describe that by feet in a definitive number. They’ve got small craft warnings coming up and have reduced it from gale warnings there. So what the hell we might as well go out in it and see what this experience will be like. We’ve passed two fish farms I think now. They are buoyed areas with green colored float buildings. It’s a sad thing when we have to have those to make up for all the over fishing we have done. We just heard a boat called Puffin on the radio saying they have spotted a pod of killer whales by them. Larry hails them on the radio and asks if they are in Johnstone Straight and if so where and what are the conditions. His answer is spotty and scratchy but we grasp that he’s off Port Neville with light winds and a one foot chop. We thank him and decided to head to Johnstone Strait. See there is someone else out here. WILL WE SEE THE JOHNSON’S GOING BY? The channel is opening up into Johnstone Strait ahead and it looks huge. We look on the cruise ship schedule of our friends, the Johnsons from Annapolis area and they are in Sitka now and will be coming down Johnstone Striat tomorrow night arriving in Vancouver at 7:00 AM in the morning. We think if we are at Port Neville and up at midnight we might see them go by. I wish we knew what time they would be going by. JOHNSTONE STRAIT We see a crab boat hauling a big log behind him heading to the logging camp behind us. They get a good bit of money for each log they retrieve and return to the logging camps. We are passing the Helmoken Islands. They are right dab in the center of Johnstone Strait. That’s where some boaters go if they get caught in some bad weather on Johnstone Strait. CURRENT PASSAGE As we come down Current Passage we pass a strange little patch of flat water near the rippled water just by Earl Ledge. The waters around this whole area are so strange, with swirls, and boils and rapids that I san see why the Indians would look at the water and imagine monsters below. We come around Earl Ledge and pass a few houses on shore and get out first clear glimpse down Johnstone Straight. It’s beautiful and reminds me of the first time we heard MV Velocity on the radio when we were heading north to Alaska. (see 2002 trip to Alaska)
As predicted in the cruising books the water by Kelsey Bay and Earl Ledge boils and raises up a bit. This is a very benign day so I can imagine how it could be very uncomfortable around here. We’ve got Knotty Dog on auto pilot and it moves us back and forth between 240 to 270 degrees keeping our course as we fight the strong waters and currents. The waters are wagging us back and forth. We have 15 -17 knots on our nose and the current is going with us a bit. In the tide book 10:55 AM is maximum with minus 1.1 ebb. We are experiencing surface currents and the deeper currents are stronger but below. We don’t really know what they are. That must be causing the boils we see. It’s all a mystery to us. We are running 9.30 knots so we’re riding a bit on the current. SLOW BELL We hear someone on 16 asking another boater for a “slow bell” which means to slow down. Well, this is a perfect day out on Johnstone Strait and it could be even more perfect if we luck out and see some Orcas. That would make my day. Wow, this country is really getting logged out everywhere. When we were here 4 years ago the Canadian and US politicians were fighting about the logging tariffs. Guess they sorted it out now because the place is being stripped. No wonder we see so many Canadians with abundant money to spend as opposed to our last trip when they were grouching about the US and all their money. They would tell us we could buy anything because it was so cheap here for us. Now it’s just the opposite. PORT NEVILLE We can see up ahead the house that marks the island just outside Port Neville. I remember it from before as it perched out all alone facing down the Strait imagining the turbulent waters they must see. We think conditions will be good tomorrow so we don’t think we’ll get stuck in Port Neville for more than one night. Last time we had planned to stop here but conditions were good and it sucks you into thinking you should head further north while the “gettins’ is good”. That same temptation hovers over us again but since we think it will be fine tomorrow we want to stop and experience this place. If it is really bad tomorrow we will head 8 miles up the channel through the rough stuff and head up Havanna Channel into protected waters of the Broughton Islands. We can see a few sailboats motoring ahead but no traffic to speak of. We’re getting closer to Port Neville. I ask Larry if he knows where he’s planning to anchor. I decide to check the cruising guide for more horror stories though I know that’s a mistake. Looks OK except for some currents to watch out for so we need to set the anchor hard. Whelp guess we won’t be as lucky as some boaters today. We heard a few on the radio talking to other cruising friends that they sighted some large pods of Orcas It’s been a cold day today, down to 54 degrees. It’ll be a chilly anchorage I think.
HEADING TO THE BROUGHTON’S Our first option was to go up to the next channel which is called Havanna and there we had a few options or we could take our chances on Johnstone Strait and go to Alert Bay or Malcolm Island. Malcolm dock master didn’t answer the phone. The forecast was for small craft warning on Johnstone in the afternoon. It’s pretty calm so we’re pretty sure it will be OK if we continue on but we think we are leaning towards heading in Havanna Channel into the Broughton Island area and maybe anchor by Lagoon Cove. We’re make our turn into Havanna Channel and the starboard side of the channel is strewn with small granite rock islands with fur trees doing their best to dig their roots in for a good hold on the rugged base. We finally decide to head for Cutter Cove Anchorage. I know nothing about it but am sure it will be just fine. WE’LL TRY CUTTER COVE We meander our way up the channel of ragged rocky shoreline and low tree covered hills. We pass Burial Ground Anchorage. Interesting name. It’s very small and there is a small rustic house there. We didn’t like it. I wanted to anchor across the way by a so called “deserted Indian village” but Larry wasn’t going for it. He said “It was too exposed.” There went my visions of snooping around looking for interesting antiquities.
We continued on and turned into Chatham Channel, a narrow long cut that we came through before coming home from Alaska. This time it seemed so wide and easy. WINDY NIGHT TONIGHT Home tonight looks like it will be Cutter. We pull in and set anchor and watch as the wind picks up and the seas get choppy and white capped but our anchor is set good so we don’t care cause…….
CUTTER COVE TO SOINTILLA ON MALCOM ISLAND with a SHORT STOP AT It’s July 1st, 2006, Canada Day, but you’d never know it where we are. We’re in Cutter Cove and it blew all night last night. At our next stop we bumped into a couple and they asked where we came from. We said “Cutter Cove” and they laughed and said “Oh you mean Wind Cove”. Guess that says it all.
Its 59 degrees out now, calm but overcast and dreary. I spot the same eagle I noticed on shore, perched on a big washed up log. I kayaked all the way in to see him but he turned out to be nothing but a nub on the log.
NO CALAMITIES We pull up anchor. No calamities this time and head out. Larry turns on the water maker. We head out of this big lonely anchorage. We only had two other boats in here last night. One was a sailboat that we followed in and another was a little 28 foot cabin cruiser. A couple other sail boaters came in, circled around, and decided they wanted nothing to do with this anchorage I guess and headed out for a more protected place. We had 30-35 knot winds in there yesterday afternoon until mid evening when it finally dropped off. We held just fine and inside this boat it doesn’t too much what’s going on outside as you are so comfortable.
The only discomfort was getting the dinghy down in those cold brisk winds and taking Zig to shore in the 1 foot chop that sprayed over us as we headed to virtually not one nice place for Zig. It was all rocks trying to get into shore. We tried the river bed but it was too rocky, sharp and shallow for the dinghy. It also would be a long mucky walk in the shallow muddy shoreline to get Ziggy to where a patch of grass was. We did find a small crescent shaped indention further up the inlet with a very small patch of rocky shore line and that’s where we took Zig.
HEADING TO KNIGHT INLET We came out of Cutter Cove and could see a few boats traveling in different directions. We’re heading on to Knight Inlet. The winds are 16 knots on our nose. LAGOON COVE, A MAD HOUSE? We didn’t stop at Lagoon Cove this time as we figured it would be a mad house on Canada Day. We hear a woman (from Lagoon Cove) come on the radio occasionally who sounds very irritable today. She’s telling people to “Watch your wake or stay out of here!” and “This is the yacht club and there’s no more room!”. Didn’t sound like a place we wanted to be today. I guess the winds we experienced were the “small craft warning” winds that were to come up on Johnston Strait yesterday afternoon. I think we made a good decision to come into the Broughton Islands.
CAPTAIN VANCOUVER There are so many hills, islands and inlets that it’s overwhelming when you think about Captain Vancouver taking on the monumental task of exploring every nook and cranny up here, charting it and searching for the rumored Northwest Passage. What a incredible feat and you can only really appreciate it to the fullest when you actually come through here and realize the expanse and what an impossible task that would be. EAGLES & BEARS Yesterday when we came in to anchor we saw a little black bear cub playing on the meadow by the river bed. He was so far away, just a speck, but so cute. It gave me hope that we’d see more, maybe another cub or the mother but no such luck during our stay there.
There were a few eagles perched on the rocks near the stream looking like they were waiting for the salmon to come home. I wonder if the salmon will come. We’ve fished out so much salmon we don’t stop to think how it affects things beyond us and our bellys. What about the bears that come to the streams for their spring and fall feeding? The seals, the otters, the eagles, the orcas? Where and what will do they then? What will they eat? (Well, the Johnson’s must be heading back down from Sitka today. There is an outside chance we’ll see their cruise ship go by if we are docked at Malcomb Island though we don’t know which side of the island they would go on. I wish there was some way to track them.) so far away, just a speck, but so cute. It gave me hope that we’d see more, maybe another cub or the mother but no such luck during our stay there.
VILLAGE ISLAND Well, we’re coming around to Village Island. You can see why the Indians lived here as there are several breaks in the shoreline perfect for launching and resting or storing their canoes. The typical shoreline is usually sheared off rocky cliffs. The landscape is low lying hills with several protected little coves. We came around Village Island and anchored just inside the cove where the old broken down dock is off Elliot Passage. Our first attempt was not successful as the bottom was rocky and the anchor wouldn’t grab. The old decrepit dock didn’t look sturdy enough for any docking. There were several attached rotted log booms just off the docks that served as a breakwater.
We decided to try to go in deeper between the old moss covered buoy and the rocky shoal. Once we got in and made our turn we decided maybe we’d give the old ratty mooring buoy a try. We slowly motored up to it and Larry hooked the line and pulled up the most sea-weed-moss-covered-old rope (attached to the buoy) and managed to get the slimy loop end of it slipped through our hawsehole and over our cleat. Unfortunately, our boat length made our swing just long enough to hit the darn log booms. Larry didn’t feel comfortable leaving the boat because of it and because he didn’t have much faith in the rotten line on the mooring buoy, though it was holding us pretty well. So, I was to go ashore alone in the kayak and go see what there was to see and Larry would stay on the boat with the motor running in case the line broke. HAD TO GO ALONE I took the two way radio with me in case we needed to contact each other (but found out on land that it didn’t work), two cameras, Zig, the leash, hiking boots and off we paddled. We got to the old battered dock and much of it was not serviceable at all. I managed to climb out of the kayak and roll onto the dirty old dock. Ziggy was so excited to get on a hard land surface that it’s a good thing I still had him connected to the leash so he couldn’t go far. I got myself up and I looked back at Larry. He was still nervously watching the boat as the current was swinging it around. Zig and I headed up the hill along the path that lead into the forest. Inside the forest canopy were followed the path as it lead off down and out of the trees and behind the rocky precipice that prevented us from seeing the Indian ruins from the boat in the harbor cove. PATH OF SALMON BERRIES AND DIVE BOMBING BIRDS AND BUGS We had to head down through a narrow path cut through head high wild salmon berry bushes. Many were just beginning to turn almost ripe for eating and still many were on the tail end of their blossoming. I didn’t like how narrow the path was and that I couldn’t see ahead or out each way. It was scary. I wondered about bears with all these berry bushes. Zig lead the way and we were being dive bombed by huge mosquitoes and hummingbirds (that liked my red jacket and baseball cap) that sounded like mini helicopters. There were lots of bees too swooping around our heads. We finally came to the remains of a building. The doors were wide open, windows broken and everything rotting away. It was covered in moss and black mold and almost completely taken over by the forest and bushes. It was not an Indian looking building nor was it too old (maybe the 40s) so I wasn’t interested. So we continued on down the path as I could see the weathered grey roof tops of a couple of buildings peaking above the berry bushes.
INDIAN RUINS So off we went again down another, narrow path, with bushes sky high on each side and more bugs and birds dive bombing around our heads, and things rustling in the bushes. We passed one building that was completely caving in but I could see ahead parts of a more interesting structure that finally looked like some kind of Indian ruin. We continued on the path and finally came to a little opening in the brush and there amazingly was an old massive wooden arch\ made of huge old tree logs. It definitely was Indian and old!
I thought how wonderful to see this and then I sensed something moving by my feet and glanced down. The ground was covered with snakes, little slimy black snakes!!! It was as if I discovered the lost arc but had to pass through the evil snakes, or maybe they were the dead Indian spirits of past, that were guarding this place. Ziggy jumped back quickly, he himself, the big hunter, scared and surprised by them. I was too scared and frozen to let out a scream just a dry gasp as I am terrified of snakes. I’m sure my eyes were bug eyed wide. There were masses of them covering the whole open area here. I think now looking back that they were a bit afraid of us and many slithered off into the bushes in all directions. There were so many though it was as if the ground was black, totally covered in them. It was like out of the movie The Raiders of the Lost Arc and that scene where there were snakes everywhere, crawling in and out of skulls and things. Yuk. Many held their ground though and wouldn’t budge and something in me made me hold my ground too as suddenly I was determined to get a picture after traipsing all this way and being scared to death. I took one picture of the Indian ruin and hoped to God it will come out and turned around as fast as I could and headed back the way we came.
MADE ZIG LEAD THE WAY Ziggy and I stumbled over each other trying to get out of there on that narrow path. I wanted Ziggy ahead to save me or scare out first whatever might be down that path (like as if he was capable of doing anything to save me) but he was so timid now and afraid to go ahead. This whole thing spooked him too. He was going so slow like a snail and stopping now to smell weird things alongside the trail that he didn’t notice before and he would put his nose up in the air sniffing which made me think this was a path that bears and cougars and wolves use which didn’t help my state of mind after running into the the bed of snakes. I was imagining all sorts of monsters now. I decided to take a cut off to the shore even though I didn’t come that way. I felt more comfortable with the idea of being on the shore where I could see what was around me. I decided I’d chance trying to find a way back to the boat by climbing the granite rocks and cliffs back around hoping that I could get back to the anchorage that way and back to that rickety old dock where I left the kayak. The dam radio is not working. Everyonce in awhile I hear Larry trying to call me but obviously he can’t hear me call him back. TUMBLING TO SHORE ON TOP OF A MIDDEN OF SHELLS AND BROKEN BEER BOTTLES I DID NOT WANT TO go back on that path again NO MATTER WHAT. So we climbed down the steep incline and tumbled down to the shore which was lined with masses of broken shells, a midden from days gone past, but this midden was mixed in with broken beer and soda bottle glass. I guess it was a modern day midden. I’m a sea glass collector but had no interest in this beach glass or any kind of beach combing here today. I just wanted to get this heck out of this scary place. It felt like ghosts were here.
SHORELINE LIKE A CHEESE GRATER The shore was so sharp with pointed jagged barnacles (I once read as someone described these typical barnicled rocks and likened them to cheese graters) that Ziggy was having a hard time walking on them. I pulled him along anyway as I had no patience for dilly dallying here. We climbed up some steep areas faster than I ever imagined we could. MOUNTAIN GOAT Somehow I had a burst of adrenaline in me that made me climb like a mountain goat. I could see a sail boat heading towards the cove where Larry was. Wonder what they thought of this middle aged woman crawling around up these cliffs pulling a little white dog. Nuts I guess.
FLOPPED RIGHT IN THE WATER We finally made it around to the dock (that’s a stretch for a description) thank God and I got the kayak into position, squatted down on the dock to get into the kayak, slipped my rump over and down in and immediately lost balance and flipped myself over right into the water. Thank goodness it wasn’t too deep and I was able to save my new camera. Though both of us were sopping wet we both managed to get in the kayak again and paddled to the boat as fast as I could. Larry was on edge too because the boat was banging into the log booms and the current was getting strong. I stripped the wet clothes off on the back swim step, we released the mucky old rope that attached to the old mooring buoy and we headed out never looking back.
EERIE PLACE GUARDED BY GHOSTS AND TRICKSTERS It was an eerie place, filled with ghosts I think. Not only were there those nasty black slimy snakes but a few large ravens that seemed to guard the place. They following us and laughed at us as we ran away. They’re tricksters you know. Larry had only one question. “Why didn’t you take any pictures of the snakes? I would have liked to have seen the snakes.” We headed for Sointula on Malcomb Island and hopefully some sane civilization for a day.
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FISHING WITH HERB
KAYAKING AT SLACK
GOOD BY GUYS
FISH HATCHERY AND SETTLEMENTS
EAGLE BLUFF
NOT A GOOD PLACE FOR ZIGMEISTER
SNAKES, SNAKES, SNAKES!!!
