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CROSSING HECATE STRAIT HEADING BACK SOUTH TIME TO GO, SADLY, WE LEAVE THE WONDERFUL QUEEN CHARLOTTES It was the morning of our departure. I was barely awake and still in my bunk, warm underneath the covers, but I could hear Larry rustling above. It’s pitch dark out. I don’t know what time it is yet. I lay in bed with Ziggy and wait, not wanting to get up yet. I can hear the tapping of the printer above as the cartridge on the printer works its way back and forth spreading ink on a page printing out the latest weather report. Larry has gotten up early to get the 4:00 AM weather report. It’s a familiar sound now after weeks of printing reports out for our travels. If the forecast is good I’ll know because the next thing I’ll hear is him making a pot of coffee. Once I smell the coffee, he’ll soon bring me down a cup and then I know it’s time to get up. This familiar scenario means the weather report is still good to go. The coffee means not to dally in bed but get up and get Zig going too. I’ll have an hour maybe to wake up and be alert to help Larry out of this tight slip. He doesn’t seem worried. The hall light turns on
and hurts my eyes. I hear Larry descending the stairs and he enters the
room bringing me that predicted cup of coffee and says “You need to think
about getting up now”. I sleepily ask if the weather report is good and
he says I’m not nearly as anxious and scared as when we came across from the mainland a couple weeks ago. It’s amazing the fear I had then. I was even able to have a half way good night’s sleep last night though it took me awhile to get to sleep. I didn’t hear the usual snoring from Larry so I imagine he didn’t sleep as soundly though. I quickly get dressed, close and lock the windows in between a few gulps of coffee, and secure all the cabinets below. I grab a jacket. Zig seems to know the routine also and what follows. Larry said he’ll pull the power cord for me and get things ready as I pull on my jacket, coffee in hand getting ready to take Zig up to do his morning duty. Ziggy follows me off the boat and onto the wooden dock where the sports fishermen did an abundant amount of fish cleaning last night, big catch I guess. I lift Ziggy up with one arm, careful not to spill my coffee in the other, and carry him up the metal ramp that hurts his little feet. Luckily it’s high tide and I don’t have to work too much climbing the normal steep grade of the ramp. It’s still dark out and I’m amazed at the amount of lights I see that stay on all night. Across the water a few miles away I can see Queen Charlotte is lit up with small orangeish lights, sparkling in the early morning darkness. The nearby Coast Guard station on the other side of the parking lot is lit as I’m sure there’s a couple of them awake and waiting for relief from their all night shift as there’s always someone there ready to go to action. Even the parking lot is lit. I turn and look towards Sandspit Airport and the nearby fishing lodge is lit. I can see the changing blue grey light flickering in their bar as someone has left the TV on all night. Lights sparkle in a long line along the coast road all the way to the airport. It seems funny that there would be so many lights in a place that I consider so remote. I guess when you think about it, it’s really not that remote here after all. The logging industry has made these islands a convenient operation base for them and has developed it into what it is. It’s a sad legacy though for a beautiful place like this. It makes me sad to see the hillsides scraped of its history, animals, habitats, and rocky hillsides blown with holes bigger than an office building all for economic greed. Logging roads access places that should in a perfect world remain un-accessed to prevent this kind of treatment. If we could only learn to log in moderation and with the environment in mind. Maybe we’ll learn someday, but I hope soon. I listen for the quietness but instead hear the hum of generators, one in the marina, one disguised in the hillside behind some trees providing power for all those lights I see along the road, the parking lot and nearby at the fishing lodge. It’s not the quietness that you’d expect. I hear the screech of a seagull that is up too. It’s as if he’s saying hello to us by the parking lot. The wind is null and it seems like a good day to make the crossing. The water is like glass in the marina but so it was in Vancouver several weeks ago when we left too soon discovering vicious seas just outside the protection of the harbor. I don’t trust anything anymore, never do. Larry is watching and waiting for me as we come down the ramp anxious to get going. Zig did his duty but was slow to come to get picked up to go down the ramp. He’s trying to delay the departure but there’s no getting around it Zig. When I get to the bottom of the dock ramp, Larry says “Are you ready?” I ask him how he plans to get out of this tight squeeze and he says he’s not worried. He says he’ll just move her over slightly in the slip, go forward slowly and then slowly begin the turn. He sure is more confident than I would be. When I looked down at the marina from the parking lot while I waited for Ziggy to do his duty, our boat looked so huge for our slip, probably because most of the boats that surround us were little 20 foot sports fishers. We were squeezed into a slip made for them and hanging out precariously into the dock channel. A large sailboat came in two days ago and parked in the slip next to us. He too, was hanging way out into the dock channel. We will have to manage to get around him too. Its captain asked Larry yesterday if we thought we could get around his dinghy that was hanging out into the channel on his davit or did we want him to take it down to give us more room. Larry told him “No, no problem.” The engines are started and warmed. I get the lines unhitched and thrown aboard and jump on the swim step. I tell Larry through the head sets “I’m on.” That signaled him to go ahead. He slowly and confidently took her out perfectly and the fender that I grabbed to fend us off the dock or other boats was totally not needed. He did a great job. We quietly motored out the sleeping marina and I wondered if we woke anyone. We were very quiet but maybe someone was peaking out their window at us like I do to see who is coming or going or to see if we got out OK and perhaps wondering how our crossing will be. Each port is the same, you get to know your neighbors and then in a flash you are gone. Sometimes you exchange email addresses or boat cards with some of the boaters and a few you may stay in contact with, some over the years even, but most become just a fleeting memory. I get busy rerigging the
lines for our next dockage which could be days from now. We were rigged
for a portside tie but we normally do a starboard which the boat is more
set up for, so now we would be ready for a starboard. I pulled in all the
fenders and tied them to the rail securely, closed all the doors that I
had open for any emergency of running around the boat in the marina to
fend us off something and checked to make sure everything was secure and
put away.
We headed out Skidegate Inlet. It was just becoming a little light out but I noticed that the winds were very strong as we got out into the inlet. 3 foot waves were coming on our portside and slapping hard our forward quarter. I’m thinking this doesn’t feel right. The skies are full of dark clouds. I come inside and Ziggy has that terrified look on his face and is crying. I pick him up and sit down on the settee behind Larry who is sitting at the helm. I look out and the waves are beginning to get white caps. I can’t see what the wind meter is reading as its too dark. I ask Larry to lighten the screen up. He does. We’ve got 25-30 knot winds out here already and we haven’t even gone across the shoal!! “What’s that all about?” I ask. Larry says it’s probably just blowing out the Inlet. Ziggy is crying and whining. I look again at the weather report and read it more carefully this time as I’m getting nervous. I say to Larry “The winds are big”. I thought about what the Haida commercial fishing captain told us in Prince Rupert several weeks ago. He has cruised these waters all his life. He said he wouldn’t cross Hecate if the winds are anything above 20! I nervously remind Larry of that. Larry convinced me that we should keep going to get past the inlet and see how it is. I can’t imagine crossing Hecate Strait in this wind with white caps when we have a choice not to. I’m getting pretty nervous and scared and Ziggy is whining and crying and his fearful little eyes are looking up into mine. Crazy thoughts go through my mind. I wonder why we put ourselves through these things. We could be home, living the Life of Riley, and yet we come out on these challenges, ration food, face fear and endurance tests. What makes us do this? Why do we get bored when we aren’t? I ridiculously make Larry slow the boat to a standstill to confirm the exact winds for my peace of mind. It’s blowing 25 knots as the boat is at standstill but its coming from the West (from the direction of the inlet) but I think that still doesn’t mean anything if it’s funneling out the inlet. If there’s one thing we have learned cruising up here is that the winds funnel out the inlets in all sorts of directions and they don’t always reflect the over all weather situation. Why does everything have to be so dang complicated? It always seems like a game of chance. Why is there always the threat of the rogue weather pattern? We get past the inlet and are now up the narrow deep water of the channel entrance, protected from the wind by the island and the winds and seas flatten down a bit. I’m feeling much better and now have more confidence. We send away for another weather buoy report. It’s the buoy in the middle of Hecate. It still looks OK. Larry tells me that if I don’t feel comfortable we can go back but it will mean staying for another 3-4 days for the next good weather pattern as a Front is headed this way. That I don’t want to do but if we have to we will.
It’s cold. We turn the
heater on. Ziggy has calmed down. I make Larry and I some toast. We
make our turn out of the deep channel by the island and head across the
shallow spit. The depths are 30-40 feet. It’s 7:20 AM now and we
are officially heading across. Looks like it will be OK. It’s lumpy and
winds are about 15 knots behind us and the seas are small but mixed. We
head towards the rising sun. At least we are heading towards some
brightness. The sun is shining down in rays through the clouds.
Larry turns to me and
says “It’s not bad at all”. I tell him “It’s not rational, my feelings
and fears, as they are all derived from what people say and things I’ve
read. I’m always better off not listening to people or reading those
guides and going by what we know but you always think you are going to get
valuable information that will help” (and really I must say you do get
valuable information). Larry said “This is not nearly as bad as going
across the Gulf Stream in Florida”. Now see, I don’t even remember that
being bad but again it was the same thing, reading too much before hand
because I was scared before that one too. It’s 8:35 AM now. The
seas are about the same. I can see a small dark lump on the horizon off
to our starboard forward quarter. It must be Bonilla Island just off the
mainland. I can still see Queen Charlottes off to our right. Larry sees
a blinking light ahead which must be the Hecate Strait buoy. On our radar
screen we’ve had a mass following us that we can’t figure out. Larry
thought it could be the sea waves. I think its rain but then every once
in awhile a dot shows up in the center of the mass like a ship. It’s just
a glitch on the radar I guess. Larry changes the setting and it’s gone.
The seas are very lumpy with no one direction, kind of mixed.
The thing I thought was a buoy is clearly visible and it’s a fishing boat dead in front of us. Larry confirmed viewing it with the binoculars.
WELL WORTH THE VISIT Well, the Queen Charlotte’s were well worth the visit. It’s a place of contrasts that’s for sure. The southern part is mysterious and mystical. There’s a strange unexplainable presence that keeps you in awe. Maybe it’s the sheer beauty and quietness of the place. It’s like no other place on earth. Then the upper half is sheer contrast to the south, busy and rugged, with hills and land shamelessly scraped but yet areas that are so grand it takes your breath away. RESPECT FOR THE HAIDA PEOPLE I have so much respect for the Haida people. The more I learn about their culture, the more respect I have for them. Many seem to care more about their culture and protecting their environment than their own self gain. They have proven their commitments and beliefs to me by their great sacrifices and efforts to preserve their land and its beauty and its cultural meaning. They respect their traditional ways even though it’s seems incredible to us that they believe and stand by the belief that their amazing old totems should be left to be taken by the soil and forest freeing one’s spirit to finally be set free. To let theses magnificent beautiful carvings of great size and age just disappear and disintegrate into the elements is still hard to comprehend. Most cultures would be gaining financial profit from these artifacts. Sadly our values are so different from the Haida. They seem to have no desire to commercialize upon their artifacts. They could reap and commercialize on the talents left by their lost generations but their beliefs prevent it as it should be. They are admirable. I revel in the brilliance of their symbolism and legends and marvel at their talent as expressed in their beautiful carvings, technology and skill of building whether it be their great long houses or their masterful canoes. They are an amazing culture that have suffered much and many have disappeared but I hope that they can be given back what they rightfully own and deserve and hopefully they will flourish again as it would only be a great thing to see. OVER LOGGING AND OVER FISHING The over logging and over fishing that we saw on the other hand is a travesty and sadly we’re seeing it everywhere. It’s just seems so much more of a defilement here because this is such a remarkable place. It should be protected in its entirety for all to see for ever, now and in the future when this greedy generation is long gone. It’s a sad and shameful legacy we leave, taking all you can get and having no concern about how the land is left, what wildlife and habitats are lost never again to be replaced. It’s a place of amazing beauty that should be appreciated and protected just for that. It’s a place that more people should recognize the value of its resources beyond the economic value. They don’t realize what a prize they have. It’s one of the last frontiers of beauty and isolation. I will always remember their wild and magnificent West side and their amazing expansive stretch of beach on the East, their mystical islands shrouded in mist and clouds, their unique species of plants, animals, and sea life and sadly I nor you will never see their old growth as it’s gone save for a few, now a rare tree promoted shamelessly like a come and see Ripley’s Believe It Or Not. ABOUT HALF WAY We can now see more land on the mainland and can still see the Queen Charlottes as it’s so clear out. We’re right about in the center of Hecate Strait now. The water depth is ranging 80 feet deep which is shallow for these northern waters. That’s why this stretch of water can be treacherous as the seas can heap up very quickly in these shallow waters. MINE FIELD Suddenly and shockingly, way out here, we pass a crab pot marker, way too close for comfort, then another, and instantly the choppy seas are filled with them of all colors. I say to Larry those must be the crab pots from the fishing boats we saw at Sandspit. We now see not one but two fishing boats out in the distance working their traps. We should have known we’d run into this as I had wondered about it when we were at the marina. During our stay at the docks, we watched for several days as the fishing boats were coming and going night and day to the Sandspit Marina main loading wharf. They worked like mad men nonstop loading their decks with crab traps. They were loaded so high that when they left they looked unsafe and lopsided, and then amazingly, hours later, they would be back again doing a repeat performance. We couldn’t believe the number of crab pots that we saw leaving the docks at Sandspit. DAM CRAB POTS! It only figures now that here’s where they have dropped them, on the shallow banks of Hecate Strait. I guess that’s why we saw all those dead undersized crabs washing up on the shores at Rose Spit. We maneuver strenuously through this dam mine field. Isn’t it enough that we have to cross the Hecate Strait and now on top of it all we have to deal with these crab pots? There’s no getting around them as they are everywhere in a mad mix like an erratic pile of pick up sticks. There are no clear rows to go through. It’s terrible. Why couldn’t they have left a sacred path open for travelers like us going to and from the island? After all, the stress of crossing the darn Hecate Strait, and then the thought of getting into trouble with a mere dam crab pot. That would be humiliating. It’s hard to see them until you are right on top of them because the waves are so high as they conceal and hide them until the very last second. We are totally exhausted after 1 ½ hours weaving and swerving to get through this mine field. I had binoculars glued to my eyes and trying to tell Larry which way to go while he drove the boat tirelessly. It seems in Maine at least there were rows of open channels between the crab pots that you could find and travel through them. I guess we could have just cut their lines with our cutters but you still take the chance of getting them tangled up in your bow thrusters and who knows what else. I must say so far we successfully have not tangled ourselves in any of them. ENTERING PRINCIPLE CHANNEL The Sea Gods have been with us again today and though not a smooth crossing per say it was a safe one. Even Ziggy slept much of the way, either he’s sick as a dog or has finally given in to the mad senseless traveling that he thinks we take him on. About 12:45 PM we have completed the crossing and enter Principle Channel. Principle Channel has a wide mouth welcoming all looking for shelter from the Strait. We hug the southern shore and it is quite beautiful. The other side is too far away to make any aesthetic judgments. Our chart plotter now says we are an hour and 22 minutes to our anchorage. We both admitted to each other that we again had a fitful nights sleep last night and agree that this is a scary place to cross though if seemed no different than other places we’ve been. I think Larry did a great job picking the weather windows. With the added strain of those dam crab pots we’re both contemplating a nice nap this afternoon. The boat has finally
settled down enough so that I can think about washing the dishes left in
the sink from breakfast and lunch but I think I will wait until we are
hooked in some mud for the night.
We are greeted just
inside the entrance by the sight of a tug pulling a large load. It looks
like a bunk house for loggers or maybe a new fishing camp.
As we continue down Principle Channel to our anchorage we see Northern Ranger ahead of us. It’s a Nordhavn 46. We last saw them in Prince Rupert before we made the crossing over to Queen Charlottes. How ironic to see them as we come back. Larry hails them on the radio. They answered back with a big hello and said they were wondering if that was us. They wanted to know how the Queen Charlottes were and how the crossings went. We told them it was a wonderful trip and experience. They said they’ve “just been messing around fishing for the last couple of weeks”. We told them we were going to Crosby to anchor for the night. They said they already saw a sailboat go in there. It kind of sounded as if there would be no room by the manner that he said that. I check the guide and it says 3 small boats could anchor in there. (Again what is the definition of small boat in these darn guides???????? Why can’t they just define small boat? I always wonder too why no one ever will define small craft. All those small craft advisories and they never describe the length.) We ask Northern Ranger (I love that name) what other anchorages they like in case there’s no room for us. He recommends Haskins but says there are lots of others too. He’s cruised up here a lot so I guess he would know better than we. We say goodbye and Larry looks up Haskins in the guide book. It’s another 20 miles! After crossing the Hecate Strait, and fighting crab pots for 2 hours and getting up at 4:30 AM that’s doesn’t sound appealing but we have the info if needed. I think Larry though is determined to get in at Crosby no matter what. CROSBY ANCHORAGE OFF PRINCIPLE CHANNEL We soon arrive at the entrance and Larry slowly heads in. Once we make the dog legged turn inside we could see a beautiful white sailboat anchored inside. He was right in the middle of the anchorage area and we weren’t sure if we had enough room. We finally ended up anchoring in part of the entry channel but got a good hook and had enough room. As we dropped anchor, the people on the sailboat whizzed by on their zodiac waving hello to us as they headed out into the channel to explore or maybe to do some fishing. EXPLORING THE ANCHORAGE Once we settled in, Larry got one of the kayaks down. I climbed in and took Zig on a tour of the anchorage which was really quite beautiful. There were two legs to the anchorage to explore. The first leads to a large grassy area where a stream pours out. There is an old wooden boat wrecked on some rocks. It’s obviously been there for quite awhile and is beginning to rot away. It was a cute little antique boat. Such a shame that this is its final resting place and couldn’t be saved. It still had a rope, though rotting, tying its bow to a tree even though it sadly laid on its side on the hard ground. I let Ziggy run on shore alongside while I kayaked close by following the shoreline. He loved getting the exercise after the long day on the boat as he had a very happy look on his snout but he always keeps very close tab on me as he I think he must be afraid of being left. At the end of each stretch he jumps back on the bow of the kayak as I nudge it up to a rock or perch for him and then we paddle off to explore the other inlet. It is definitely beautiful here. I don’t really see any “old growth” as described in the cruising guide. These trees all look smallish in diameter and very uniform like regrowth. I’m beginning to think they have logged all the old growth out completely everywhere we go. We see a big fish jump up and out of the water and an eagle soars over head making its identifiable chirping crackling noise probably commenting that was a big one it missed. We pass one waterfall after another and as we pass close by each the air pushes out of the forest on our faces feeling cold and fresh. PROBLEM WITH THE
BATTERIES Zig and I decide to head back to the boat. We’ve been having some problems with the inverters and though we’ve been running the engine much of the day, the voltage is way down so I can see Larry is already running the generator trying to charge it up. We have been turning as much stuff off as possible at night to keep the voltage up but Larry has had to run the generator in the evening just before we go to bed to get a charge enough to last the night and then still has had to get up early in the morning to start it again to bring the voltage up back up again. We don’t know if we have a problem with the batteries or some wrong wiring. Larry has been communicating with Justin at Nordhavn by email to see if they can figure out the problem. (We later found out upon returning to Sydney that the batteries were bad and had to be replaced.) We had a nice dinner on the boat and enjoyed the peace and serenity of the anchorage and it was comforting to know that the Hecate was behind us now. We watch as the rain begins to form droplets across the water. We have a big rain storm that evening and are glad we came across the Strait when we did. We feel snug and safe though where we are and glad the crossing is over. It should be a snap now as we head south.
Our sailboat neighbor in our anchorage left before us. They were quiet neighbors and beautiful to look at in the nice anchorage. Sometimes it’s nice to have another boat to look at as it provides nice scale for the surroundings. They were from Sweden. Hmm, that’s the second foreign cruisers we’ve met up her. The other was a boat from Amsterdam, a couple who are sailing around the world. We soon headed out too and as we headed down Principle Channel we could see them in the distance ahead heading the same direction. They looked beautiful against the multilayered islands and mountains and the clouds were performing a beautiful ballet across the sky in pastel shades. POD OF WHALES Just when you think you’ve seen the best part of your trip and all is going to be ho hum on the way back Larry spots a pod of whales. Hearing that, I surface from the computer and grab my camera. There are quite a few up close to the rocky shelf along the shoreline. We can see them in the distance spouting and splashing and making a ruckus. They are a rambunctious bunch, much more active than the grey whales and others we’ve been seeing. I take pictures of them but we’re quite a distance and the back drop against the shoreline I know will not show them up very well. A COUPLE SLAPS ON THE SIDE OF THE BOAT I remember, Herb the
fisherman from Dent Lodge, who said that he knew all the whales near Port
Neville living there for so many years. He said when he would see them
all he had to do was slap the side of the boat and they would come a
swimming. What the heck. What would it hurt? The whales were so far
away that maybe it might work. So I did a couple slaps on the side of the
boat. Nothing happened. Then all of a sudden an orca surfaced right
beside the boat!
I was so shocked and flustered that I fumbled with the camera for a few valuable seconds but managed to get a few awkward clicks. This orca actually came with 10 feet of the boat and turned sideways to take several glances at us. Guess he was looking for Herb. We just couldn’t believe it. He then dove down under the boat and came up the other side to get another glimpse. By then a few others had joined him. It was so exciting, the most exciting thing I’ve ever experienced on the boat. They soon dove down again and this time surfaced a few yards behind the boat and followed us. There were definitely four orcas behind the boat and they lined up in perfect formation, equidistant from each other straight across and followed us for several minutes. Was I dreaming or was this for real I thought? It was the most amazing thing we’ve ever seen. It was like they were showing off for us. They followed directly behind the boat and two dove down at the same time and the other two stay up together. Then they all followed each other in perfect timing. It was almost like some weird Western Movie where the Magnificent Four are riding on their horses together across the prairie at the end of the movie.
MOBY DICK AND THE PORPOISE WITH THE MOSTEST By now a huge orca
surfaces. He’s ominous and scary and I immediately name him “ole Moby
Dick. He has a huge dorsal fin, much bigger than the rest, but it is
craggy and crookedly pointed not sleek like the others. He must be the
grand daddy of them all. He looks like he is moving slow and gracefully
but it’s just his grace and experience because he is going a great strong
speed that easily keeps up with the youngest and most energetic of the
orcas. He and another large orca, but one with a much smoother smaller
dorsal enter into the chaise after this one Dall’s porpoise.
The weather has become rainy and Larry has turned the wipers on but the rain hasn’t affected the seas as they are perfectly calm. There are no strong winds or chop on the water. Today Larry is taking us to Princess Royal Island in hopes that we might just luck out and see some Mystic Bears. It’s not the season to see them but we can always hope can’t we?
OTTER PASS
The islands in Otter Pass are beautiful and their shores are ruggedly littered with piles of weathered driftwood. The trees are scraggy from the fierce seas and winds normally in this area and their profiles provide some beautiful and different scenery because of it. Sometimes it’s nice to get a break from the monotonous treed landscape in BC especially since 98 per cent of it has been logged and the new growth comes in entirely too boringly uniform.
PENN HARBOR ANCHORAGE UP SURF INLET We head way up the channel to our new anchorage. There’s not much said about it in the cruising guide and there’s no diagram of the anchorage so we take the entrance slow and carefully, heading in through the narrow 50 foot wide entrance between the shear tree lined cliffs. Once inside we are welcomed by a wonderful protected bay with three pretty good sized streams and one that has a beautiful strong flowing waterfall. There is a small rocky island in the center of the anchorage with a nice patch of grass, a few bushes and a couple trees that is just perfect to drop Ziggy off for his business and close to our anchorage spot.
We have several grassy shorelines to watch in case any bears decide to visit the shoreline for an evening low tide look see under the rocks for some tasty tid bits or a couple bites of green grass. There are a couple resident eagles and a loon or two and a couple brown headed ducks that during the stay make the funniest sounds, almost like a cat crying. They are busy working the whole time catching little tinsy fish and flying off with them hanging from their beaks. We watched during our stay but never did see a bear even though we did a no, no and that was to put some old chocolate cake on the shore to tempt them since it wasn’t in season. It didn’t work though.
What a great anchorage though and nothing much written about it in the guide. Maybe it’s one of their favorites too and better not to tell everyone. It was so “bomb proof”, as the Douglas guide refers to safe anchorages, that in the middle of the night I felt like there was no air to breathe it was so stand still. There never was a ripple across the water and the mirrored reflection of the shore in the water was un real. We even had thoughts of staying an extra day but the draw of the next anchorage kept us going. This I would say was a top notch anchorage though way up the channel from others more convenient to travels of typical cruisers heading north and south. We had fun kayaking around the whole anchorage and taking pictures in front of the waterfall.
PENN HARBOR, SURF INLET
We’re up early this morning and discover we’re totally fogged in. We couldn’t even see the nearby shore though it’s only a few feet away. After a couple hours, it lifted enough for us to head out. The images of the fog snaking its way through the mountains were beautiful. We’re still searching the shoreline for white bears but no high expectations as it’s not the season to see them. I’d like to come back some day though, the right time, to see them. We come out of Surf Inlet facing out into Hecate Strait again. The fog has lifted just enough to wrap itself around the nearby islands in a magical way. We spot another boat off in the distance heading in the direction that we will be going. It looks like another Nordhavn of all things. It’s racing in front of a fog bank and looks like a mirage. It looks double high as the hull reflects strangely in the water. We have seen this odd scenario, the mirage effect, many times before while cruising up here. It makes things look strange and eerie and not like themselves. Off to our right we see a red Nordic Tug, very similar to a one we saw in Shearwater a few weeks ago before we made the crossing to the Charlottes. He’s coming out of an anchorage near the entrance to Surf Inlet.
TERRIFYING IMAGES It’s flat calm out on the Hecate Strait and again we are amazed at the calm seas we have experienced. I spent an hour last night in bed reading about places and anchorages to go around here. Again, its one description after another of terrifying experiences and the odds of those things happening, I wonder. There are too many descriptions of unusual eerie surges, 90 knot winds, 36 hour terror watches, badly charted anchorages, etc. etc. Larry says he just doesn’t read about the problems anymore and just looks at the charts and watches the weather. I’m feeling pretty much the same. It’s much more relaxing boating that way.
As we head up Laredo
Channel, the Nordhavn cuts us off. Larry is hugging the shore as close as
he safely can with the fog but this jerk is just hedging us over. What’s
his problem? I finally get a close glimpse at him and it’s a Selene not a
Nordhavn. From a distance he looked like a Nordhavn but then I saw the
identifiable round window on the side up near the pilot house. It’s got
the same grey hull just like a Nordhavn. Is he trying to look like a
Nordhavn I wonder? Anyway, he keeps heading towards us pushing us over
farther and farther closer to shore. We make our turn around the point
and hug the shore the best we can but he still keeps his course and crowds
us. Won’t he budge an inch out of courtesy or is he just going to be an
A#@% and keep his course? By now the fog is totally thick and we can’t
see a thing.
The fog was getting thick
and coming and going in thick patches. We could only watch and track NICE GUY AFTER ALL, YOU JUST WONDER WHAT WAS HE THINKING A few minutes later he hails us back. He gives us the name of his boat which I won’t mention here. He’s very friendly now and asks where we anchored last night, etc., you know the regular chit chat that goes on out here when you meet another lonely cruiser. He sounds like a really nice guy but we still shockingly watching him as he hugs that shoreline so close in the fog. Larry and he exchange tid bits about where we all have been cruising, the weather, etc. and then Larry signs off saying “Well, we’ll probably meet up with you in Shearwater in a few days as everyone usually ends up there”. He chuckles back and says “Sure enough” as really that’s where we all end up out here eventually whether to rest, have a restaurant meal, get supplies or just go to see people after being in the wilderness for days. Later we saw him have what we thought looked like a near encounter with a small fishing boat coming in the opposite direction through the fog. We had the radar set at 1/8 mile and the two boats were on top of each other on the screen. We could see them do a little quick jag in their course. Then later we saw a Grand Banks coming down the channel towards us. He passed to the portside of us but was on a dead head collision course with the Selene. The Selene finally gave in and turned for the guy. Oh well, makes for some discussions to spice up the day. GREAT WEATHER AND SCENERY ON THE OUTER EDGE It’s a nice calm day again. The fog finally lifted and we have beautiful sun and mild wind, just a little chop and some white caps beginning to build but nothing to speak of. We’re now heading up Laredo Inlet. The shores near Hecate are scarred with ragged trees and piles of driftwood, again a sign of a rugged area prone to the rampages of Hecate Strait when it gets nasty. We’ve got Princess Royal Island on both sides now as we’re heading up an inlet of the island. MYSTIC BEARS I keep wondering where those amazing bears are. Larry says to watch the shoreline but it’s so steep and there are no grassy patches so I ask myself why the heck would a bear be there? One anchorage mentioned in the cruising guide is said to be a good stopping place where you can go into shore and find bears. Now who the heck is going to go into the forest to find bears? Not me. They have got to come to the grassy shore when I’m a far distance from them, just far enough to get a photo and watch silent as a mouse. You’re not going to find me traipsing through the forest looking for bears, no sir. I read about MacDonald Bay in Douglas’ guide. It’s a recommended anchorage. He writes that one night at anchorage there he was awakened in the night and came outside on the cockpit of the boat stark naked to hear the wolves howling. I wonder to myself, do we need to know that much info? He must have thought he was the wolf man. Another anchorage or stop mentioned is the Hot Springs and there are more than one. I page through the guide and there is a nice little picture of Renee sitting in the hot tub looking like she’s in her birthday suit. Again, that’s more than I want to imagine. Don’t get me wrong though, because if it wasn’t for these wonderful people, most of us wouldn’t be up here enjoying these great cruising grounds. They have opened a world of adventure and enjoyment for people like us who normally would never dare to even think we could come close to cruising places like this, so to them and all their hard work I’m so grateful. I could do without some of the stories though that scares the beejillies out of me though. CROAKING FOR A FRIEND We head up the channel and see one or two salmon jumping out of the water. We suddenly hear someone on the radio that must be nearby as he so clear and loud. He’s hailing a friend who never answers. He just keeps repeating the name over and over like a frog croaking in the night. It strikes me so funny. We pass a little cove that is exposed to the channel and see a sailboat that is nettled in behind a small island. Maybe it’s him calling for his friend. Maybe he heard our motor and thought it was his friend. Just when you think you are the only ones here then you hear a little guy calling for a friend, stuck back in a little nitch of a cove, sounding like a sad croaking frog, looking for a mate. The countryside is beautiful but up here it is monotonous in a way with the same green trees over and over. There’s no break in the landscape just one mountain peak and island mound right after the other. There are no beaches, just shear rock sides under the lower shelf of green trees. BAY OF PLENTY, ANCHORAGE We start to head into our next anchorage, Bay of Plenty. Our chart plotter does not have detail for the anchorage. There are a lot of blank squares on the screen with no depths. We bought a detailed chart for this area at Shearwater but for the life of us we can’t find it. It’s noted on our store receipt so we paid for it but it’s totally missing. So we rely on the trusty Douglas’ again and their little sketch of the bay and head in going very slow. It’s a large anchorage and several boats could fit in this place, maybe that’s why it’s called “Bay of Plenty”. It’s another one of those places that you think you are close to shore and then after you anchor and take your dinghy or kayak in it seems you are miles away. Immediately were greeted by a couple seals that come by. Their little wet bald heads surfaced and their big round black eyes gave us the once over. They stayed for a bit and then that was the last that we saw of them during our stay.
We got the kayaks down and started exploring the anchorage. There’s a long inlet that heads up inside between the mountains for about a mile. Most of it is way too shallow for a boat, even a dinghy. It was a long hall to get to the end as we fought the current most of the way but it was worth it as it was so beautiful. We let Zig off to follow on shore. He ran along the rocky shore the whole way tirelessly. It was good exercise for all of us after sitting on our rumps for so long. At the end of the inlet there is a big valley of grass, like a large meadow. It was so beautiful and looked like the perfect place for a ranch if you could only get to it by boat as the inlet was so shallow, almost like paddling up a stream. I’m sure the bears must love this place though we saw none. We did find a huge cluster of Canadian geese stopping to rest and munch on that delicious green meadow. I guess they didn’t expect to see someone paddle their way all the way back in here and were startled at the glimpse of us. They took off in a big cloud and honked all the way back out the inlet. It was incredible the enormous mass of them and the cacophony of noise they make.
We head back out the inlet to the boat and both are tired by now. We didn’t plan our travels very well as we hit opposite tides both ways and so had to again fight our way back. It was exhausting but a beautiful trip. WHERE IS EVERYBODY? That evening it was no surprise that the three of us hit the sack early. We again didn’t see any bears or any animals of any sort. It was so quiet and lonely here. At times I think too quiet. Where is everybody? You’d think this would be over flowing with wild life as it’s such a perfect place for them.
I sometimes wonder at the result of all this logging, well I know the result; we all do, as those travel up here, see it and hear about it from locals. As we travel to these places we notice that the animals have homes and neighborhoods just like us. They are habitats but really they are much like what we have. They don’t continually travel to new places but they have local areas where they hunt and feed. It’s a place they grow up in and learn from their parents how to survive in it and a passage of nature that goes on generation after generation. What happens to all these animals when logging comes in and scrapes everything off? They devastate 100s and 100s of acres filling the river and streams with chocking runoff. Actually we seen hundreds and hundreds of miles now, beautiful wilderness, that has been logged and many times the streams have been destroyed no longer there for the returning salmon. The loss of the salmon in those streams affects all the wild life that surrounds it, the bears, the eagles, and the forest that thrives on the nutrients from the left over salmon carcasses. What happens to the salmon that can’t make it up to their streams to lay their eggs? A whole species is lost never to return, ever. It’s crazy what goes on up here and you really don’t think about it when you are home, because you don’t see it, or read about it, or think of it, but when you are here you worry and feel helpless and sad. A friend of ours, Bill Surbey said, “When you travel up here the first time, everything is beautiful and new as each turn in the road traveled is a new discovery, a new adventure, but after you’ve been here and things become familiar, you notice the logging and what it is doing.”
When we were in Queen Charlottes I had to wonder about some of the stuff we’d read about that goes on up there. Some of the conservationists were complaining that an occasional rat would come off a visiting boat visiting the islands and multiplied and fed on the ancient murrelets and other birds that are only found on the islands putting them on the endangered list. Then they complain that next people brought raccoons over, another non native species that did more of the same. Then came the introduced deer did more destruction to the environment, this time eating too many berries and other native plants, clearing areas of the natural vegetation that other species need to survive. What the heck is everybody doing? What about the logging??? What did it do to the animals, birds, nests, berries, etc.? Wasn’t that more massive? I find it hard to focus on a couple introduced animals when I see what logging can do. Do we even know what old growth looks like anymore or what it was like to walk through a forest of it? If they continue at the rate they are going, soon they won’t have salmon and then the food chain is broken. Ahh but they say they will correct it by farming salmon and we’ve seen too many fish farms up here already without studies that can really know what it will do to the environment and other species. That’s another story. Do they know for sure what effect the antibiotics given to the farmed fish do as they escape into the water system or are consumed by us. What will be the result of raising fish in a confined lifestyle in the hatcheries, fish known to travel thousands of miles following the patterns of nature and what of those more aggressive species of Atlantic salmon that they introduce into the Pacific waters. What about the parasites that are a common problem in the farms? Scientists fear these parasites can be devastating to our local fish. Will the percentage of farmed fish that escape the fisheries, mate with the free Pacific Salmon and create a whole new species or gene pool, thus destroying or eliminating the genetic line of the Pacific salmon? Will they lose their natural and amazing ability to swim the ocean for 10s of 1000s of miles to return to their birthplace to lay eggs? What would they return to as their streams would be filled with run off? The studies aren’t in or complete yet we see more and more fish farms as we cruise these remote waters. It’s crazy what they are doing. Until we cruised up here and learned about these things, we weren’t very discretionary about what we ordered at a restaurant or bought at our local markets. Now, I will not buy any farmed fish or eat it, nor should anyone. What they are doing here affects everyone and everything. It disrupts the food chain, the life cycle of everything including, the whales and dolphin. We saw wasted crabs covering the north shore of Queen Charlottes that stretched for miles from fisherman that may have had to throw them out because of size. Many of the regulations on the fishing industry are crazy too. Too many fish are pulled up in nets that aren’t the type or size that is allowable and are thrown back to sea dead and wasted. Even the fishermen who earn their money toiling these seas are concerned everywhere about what’s happening and want better controls that make more sense for the environment and their future. I could go on and on with that subject too. When will it stop? I sound like an environmental wacko and never considered myself one but when you hear, read and see these things you can’t help being concerned.
THE HAIDA HAD THE RIGHT IDEA I think the Haida had the right philosophy, only eat and take what you need and leave the earth as it was. Why do they have to be so wasteful and inconsiderate of this beautiful land?
Bay of Plenty to Shearwater
I took one last kayak trip to shore for Zig this morning. It’s a cold 48 degrees out this morning! Brrrrrr! As we paddle across the bay, again fighting against the current, the Canadian Geese that we saw way up the inlet yesterday, head out across the bay above our heads and honking so loud it was deafening after all the quiet loneliness of the place. They were the only wild life we saw except for the two nosy seals that high tailed it out of here the moment we got settled yesterday. Zig is quick, no funny business this morning. Too cold I guess.
ON A SCHEDULE We head back to the boat quickly as Larry wants to leave at 8:00 AM sharp. He’s kind of that way. He likes his schedules but today it was different. It was necessary to leave at eight to time our travels to coordinate with the currents and rapids we would be crossing today. We were timing our arrival at Meyers Narrows for high tide as it is a narrow passage with shallow depths. We can only get through there at high tide and preferably at slack water. As we come out Laredo Channel and into the area of small islets by Hecate Strait the scenery is spectacular, rugged and fascinating. There are beautiful rock outcroppings and formations and a gazillion birds and seals resting on the exposed rock islands. We turn and head up the East side of Princess Royal Island. MEYERS NARROWS We’re getting close to Myers Narrow now and it looks like Larry timed the tide and currents perfectly but I can tell his senses are a bit heightened anticipating the passage through. I spy the narrows marker first and we head in. We hug the north side to stay off the shallows on the south side just as the cruising guide says. We head for the little red marker and see the kelp surrounding it; in fact a grey heron is perched right on top of the kelp like there was a big rock underneath to make us extra nervous. We also see the kelp on the north side. We head in between the two patches of kelp keeping the red marker to our right. No sweat, we had 15 feet below us. Not a big deal at all. We come out the other side to the wide and beautiful expanse of Meyers Channel. Just over the channel is a tall bald lheaded ooking mountain and to our right is Klemtu, a present day first nations fishing village. Larry is hoping we’ll be able to get dock space at the Klemtu Dock and then we can spend some time exploring the village. We’ll see.
Well, unfortunately we reached dirty water again as I can see a patch floating by where boats have pumped out again. Its an ugly identifiable mass. PASS KLEMTU AND HEAD TO RESCUE BAY
JACKSON PASSAGE
I get in the kayak right
away, Zig on the bow like a hood ornament, and we head to shore to
explore. I love this anchorage because the entire anchorage has lots of
walkable shoreline and beautiful views of snow covered mountains beyond
out to Mathieson Channel. It’s a big open anchorage, room for lots of
boats. I’m hoping we’ll hear or maybe even see wolves tonight but I’m
not holding my breath. WILDLIFE As we explored the shore we found several little water pools that have collected high tide water like little ponds. I can see deer tracks and maybe wolf’ tracks in the mud but more likely they are just prints from another dog off a cruisers boat from a previous day…but… you never know. I scared off, not intentionally, another group of Canadian geese. I wonder if they are that same group from Bay of Plenty. If so they must be getting really irritated with us by now as we keep disturbing their rest spots. I wonder what it was like here a couple hundred years ago before man came up here. Maybe there were crowds of geese and ducks and seals, not just a couple here and there like we see now. I remember reading Lewis and Clarks journals as they amazingly described unbelievable quantities of wild life, unlike anything they had ever seen before; birds so many that they darkened the sky when they flew over head and herds of deer and buffalo that would cover the landscape. I’m sure it was the same up here too. It seems so lonely up here at times, just a couple animals here and there.
After thoroughly exploring the shoreline on one side, Zig and I finally head back to the boat. I drop Zig off on the swim step so I can explore with out him. He’s always teetering on the bow of te kayak, his muscles so tight, ready for anything. His body energy so much energy you can feel it throughout the kayak. It must be so tiring for him to have his body wound up like looking for a fish or bird or whatever. He’s ready to jump at a moments notice. With all that going on, he makes for difficult paddling sometimes. It’s a lot of work trying to steady him and still paddle forward and of course there’s the usual mishap of him falling over board where I then have to grab him and swing him back up on the kayak sopping wet which then drips down inside where I’m sitting and then I become sopping wet. That part I particularly don't like. I wanted to explore the rocky islets near the entrance of the anchorage that were covered with white birds. Surely if I took him, he would scare them off no matter how quietly and slowly I paddled over. BIRD VIEWING
BOSSY LITTLE SENTRY Finally after several minutes of ust sitting with them I slowly moved on, heading carefully and slowly out not wanting to scare those so diligently protecting their babies nor scare the babies. I didn’t want them to feel they had to try to make an escape with those new little unbroken-in wings, not for me, no sir, as I wasn’t worth the trouble. I slowly and gently paddled away hoping they thought I was a friendly visitor, but that loud squawking sentry came into action again and now that I was at a safe distance away he decided to give me a piece of his mind. I think mostly he was just trying to show off and impress the rest of the group. He made it look like he actually was responsible for chasing me away by flapping his wings at me and his obnoxious loud talk as he swooped several times down at me. I guess if it makes him more important in the group so be it. I paddled away not revealing is secret, as he supposedly chased me off.
We spent the rest of the afternoon scraping off a large green beard that Knotty Dog was growing at the water line. Well, I did really, as Larry and Ziggy just looked down over the side at me and asked how it was going every so often. We’ve never seen anything like it. It keeps getting thicker and longer by the day. Much of it is about 6 inches long. We don’t see it on any other boats around here and are wondering if it’s something we brought unknowingly on the boat from Florida or the Bahamas. Whatever it is, it is flourishing in the cold waters up here. It was a long and tedious job and I had to use what I call the “sucker thing” (it’s kind of like a movable suction cup, one of those crazy things you buy at a boat show and never use, but it came in handy today) to give me something to hold on to, while I floated around on the kayak, hanging sideways off of it to get a better angle at scraping the beard off.
FRIENDLY LITTLE SEAL I got one side done and suddenly felt a big bump on my bottom. It was like I had run over a soft rock or something like when I take Zig to shore and rub on the bottom. I couldn’t imagine what the heck it was but continued on. Later Larry later said the little resident seal in the anchorage had been watching me the whole time and hovering around. I think it must have been him. I think he came and bumped me. He’s a comical little guy as he watches us and hangs around the boat. Later I watched as he followed Larry and Zig as they went to shore in the dinghy. He hovered nearby as Zig did his business on shore and Larry sat in the dinghy and then all of a sudden I noticed the seal did a great slap on the water creating a big and noise. He did it right by them, a couple of them. It was like he was slapping the water to get their attention. Was he showing off or playing with them? Animals are so interesting if you really take the time to watch them. I’m always amazed at how smart and clever they are.
We had a nice BBQ on the back deck and ate dinner outside as the weather had warmed up nicely. Larry said a warm front was headed this way, and I thought to myself, "I think it’s already here." NEXT MORNING Larry is up before the crack of dawn as he has to turn the generator on just to make coffee in the morning after being at anchor all night. We’ve got to get the battery problem fixed as that’s ridiculous. I make some scrambled eggs, bacon and toast for Larry and then take Zig into shore on the kayak before we leave. The weather is wet and foggy out. Zig and I are sopping wet when he gets back on the kayak and it’s not even raining. I’m surprised to see several beautiful star fish in the shallow clear water as I waited for Zig. They were all sorts of colors; orange, purple and grey starfish and lots of little crabs running all over the bottom just below the waters surface. I watched a group of ducks quacking their way across the anchorage, all following the leader. I can see the see gulls are still on the rocks that I visited yesterday though the rocks are covered in wet yellow sea weed as the tide has gone out. It’s a poor little place they pick to rest. HEADING OUT INTO MATHIESON CHANNEL
It’s flat as a pancake out here. We see a little aluminum skiff go by fast with sports fishermen in it. LISTENING TO TRAFFIC ON THE RADIO It’s foggy the whole way down the channel but there’s no traffic so it’s fine. It’s a calm ride. We hear Prince Rupert Traffic control on the radio giving locations and times of arrival of big ships at different locations. We can hear a couple local sports fishermen talking about their catches too.
MOTHER NATURE AT ITS BEST Just before we make our first turn I see a small family of sea gulls in the water near us. It looks like a couple of families with a load of new babies. They are just sitting in the calm foggy water and letting the little ones exercise their wings and practice landings. They look a little wobbly like any new young baby no matter what kind of animal or bird as it’s all the same. It’s so neat to see the parents watching over them so carefully, letting them exercise, teaching them what they need to know and all the while keeping a close eye on us and how close we are getting making sure they are safe. Nature is a wonderful thing. I remember on our first trip up here how beautiful this area was with the large nearby mountains but we can’t see a bloody thing today. It’s just a gray mass out here. Too bad because this area has some of the best scenery. CALM OUT Whelp we made it just fine again. Just a few weeks ago when we came through here heading north the seas were crashing on the rocks right by the entrance. That’s the day we saw our friends, Joy and Bill, on Patience heading south after a quick trip to Alaska. What are the chances of that? It was serendipity at its best. Today there wasn’t a ripple splashing on those rocks. We immediately feel the swell of the great Milbank Sound. They are soft and strong and we watch as the bow goes up and down riding them smoothly. It will be a short trip and all should be well.
The seas are about 1-2
meters as we are just off Ivory Island and the seas become a bit
confused and are mostly slapping on our portside forward quarter. It
must be the water coming out the channel and mixing with the swells of
the Sound. We see Ivory Light in the fog and it seems like it is winking at us. It’s certainly doing its job in the fog today guiding us in. We now head the boat in towards Seaforth Channel and soon the seas will be protected again. SEAFORTH CHANNEL Once headed in to Seaforth Channel we have Ivory Island behind now and the fog is thick again. The seas are surprisingly choppy but no more big swells from the Sound. We see a big and little dot on the radar screen coming out Seaforth Channel; it turns out to be a tug and barge. We steer over to the right side of the channel to give him plenty of room and the fog clears as he goes by.
Speaking of dots on the radar, there are a gazillion of them here. We are amazed at the number of boats in Seaforth Channel. They are everywhere. It looks like they are mostly little sports fishing skifffs and a few trawlers, cruisers like us. The little skiffs must be from the fishing lodge at Shearwater. As I mentioned, the radio chatter is more than you are used too after being up here for so many weeks hearing little or nothing. It’s also way more than you want to hear but you eavesdrop regardless.
DOCKING I grudgingly get the lines and fenders ready. Everything is sopping wet and the lines smell, actually they stink and the fenders have muck on them from not having been anywhere for so long where we can wash them. I really like the anchoring as it’s so simple and clean. You just drop the line, hook it and settle back and relax. Docking is a different animal. After you get the lines and fenders ready then starts the tension of wondering what kind of space they are going to assign you to and will you have enough room to get in easily, and will the power be sufficient to run a couple extra things while you are at the dock, etc.
SHEARWATER We get settled in at the dock easily and fortunately on the side of the dock that we prefer. It’s the side away from the little speedsters that create non-stop wakes all day long. We get 30 amp power which takes Larry most of the rest of the afternoon juggling the power supply to get by and I hose down the salt and muck with their pee colored water. Ziggy is happy as a clam to be at dock again and suddenly decides everyone on the dock is his next best friend as he keeps sneaking off the swim step to run up and greet them. Suddenly all those growls that he normally gives to strangers are non existent as he’s so happy to be on land again that he likes everyone. I’m not as ecstatic as Ziggy to be here again at Shearwater, but oh well, they have pretty good pizza in the restaurant to look forward to tonight and we can even have a coffee in the afternoon out on the patio that, oh rats, has a new sign that says “NO DOGS ON PATIO” which we will totally ignore for Pete’s Sake. Even their day old coffee tastes good though it’s not a latte. I might even be able to get some semi fresh produce while we are here if the ferry has brought a new delivery. So, how bad can that be? I’m actually starting to let myself look forward to getting to Vancouver Island again as I know we are getting within reach soon. Civilization again. Ahh, the easy life, like big grocery stores, but more importantly, afternoon lattes and cappuccinos, and going out to eat at a real restaurant!!! And real power with the TV and the heater running at the same time. Yes!
Back to Index or to Shearwater
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We
see a boat in the distance ahead. It’s a tug pulling a barge. He just
came across Hecate last night. The sun is starting to peak out through
some thin cracks in the clouds. Ahh, things are looking brighter. I
think it will be OK. I say to Larry, “It looks like it will be OK”. I go
up on the fly bridge to make sure nothing was left out unsecured. I stow
our two lounge chairs and look out across Hecate and back at Queen
Charlottes. It’s so much brighter up here. Inside, the tinted windows
make things feel so dreary. It’s not as bad as it seemed. The tug goes
by, making great headway in the current.
After those precious
moments a few porpoises flashed by and I mean flashed by and caught their
attention and off they went in a wild magnificent chaise. These little
plump and compact porpoises were like speed demons full of fun and fervor
flicking across the water. I’m sure they were Dall’s porpoises. It was
like one giant and powerful race and it looked like they were all having
fun like it was one big game though I know orcas kill porpoise so I didn’t
know if it really was a race of life and death. The Dall’s porpoise are
part of orca family tree so not sure the real intent of the race. Looking
at my photos later though magnified it showed the porpoise always a yard
ahead. 
They seem
persistently determined to catch the speedy fellow but the clever little
porpoise always manages to out trick and out race them by making a quick
turn or dive or a high jump out of the water just in the instant that it
looks like are going to catch him. The big guys are not deterred one bit,
no matter how many strategic maneuvers the porpoise does and consistently
pick up his track and the chaise continues on endlessly. At one point I
think maybe their strategy is to tire the little guy out. After awhile
another couple orcas join in and increase the odds against the little
guy. After many minutes we begin to be out of good visual distance I’m
not sure really of the fate of the little porpoise as that’s when my
photos stop and it was only after analyzing my photos that day on the
computer by blowing them up that I saw all this. Without the digital
camera this whole life experience would never have been discovered so
clearly. I like to think the little porpoise won the race and that’s how
I choose to remember it. It was a magnificent few moments that we will
always remember a true highlight of the trip. 
SEARCHING
FOR MYSTIC BEARS
Just
past Otter Pass we see patches of beach covered in shells, a sure midden I
think, looking thick white as icing. The beaches were protected by the
small island outcroppings. I’ll bet a buck that’s the sight of an old
summer camp for the native people. They always seem to have selected the
most perfect bays, well protected but with glorious views out. I would
love to explore that shore to see the shells and how deep the midden is.
We’re near Hartley Bay, a thriving first nation’s village, so it makes
sense this could have been a summer camp for them way back when.
“BOMB
PROOF”
FOGGED
IN
JERK
Larry
says “We’re planning to pass on your port side”. He acknowledges and
hopefully he will give us some room but no. We both decide this isn’t
safe and Larry hails him back. “We’ll just pass on your starboard side”.
So we slow down almost to a halt to let him cross over in front of us and
then get on the other side of him and finally pass the guy. That was
really weird.
him on the radar as the fog is very thick now. We can’t believe him as he
is hugging the rocky shoreline within 1/16 of a mile in pea soup fog no
less. We really wonder now at his course as where did he think we were
going to be able to go if we had continue our course as he would have
completely cut us off? 
KAYAKING
Ziggy
loved the walk and he would take funny little shortcuts swimming across
little mini inlets. We were so shocked to see him do that. He made us
laugh at the funny adventurous things he did. He could easily have run
around the little inlets but he just jumped in and swam. At the head of
the inlet though he jumped in and started to swim across a huge stretch
that we both felt was way too much for him and called him back. He has so
much energy and is so inquisitive but sometimes has bigger ambitions than
endurance.
SAD
STORY
I
WONDER ABOUT WHAT WE ARE DOING
Even
the mystic white bears that are only found here on this island are in
jeopardy from the logging. It’s the last stretch for them as they have
forested out most of this area. 
Well, Bay of Plenty was
some what like Bay of Empty to me, though I liked the scenery. It was
empty of wild life, a lonely place. It was lifeless, nothing, no
eagles, no bear, no sounds, not a thing, not even a little fish jumping
up and out of the water. It was kind of a sad place after all even
though beautiful. 
We must first go through
Jackson Passage and the timing of the currents and depths is still
good. We’ll be arriving just below high tide for the narrows which look
pretty straight forward. We head into Jackson
As we approach the
passage, Larry calls on the radio “Securite, Securite, this is motor
vessel Knotty Dog entering Jackson Narrows from the West, any opposing
traffic come back on 16”. We hear nothing back and continue on. I’m
again amazed at the rocks and quick turns you have to make here. It’s
exciting and a bit of an adrenalin rush going through and its especially
nice when you come out the other side so quickly getting it over with in
one swift moment. It’s actually a beautiful spot and the narrow turn
area is pretty clear as the kelp lies over the shallow areas
where the rocks are just below the surface. Kelp can be a
good thing in that respect. If you see kelp you can be sure there most
likely is something shallow below it. There was a big fallen tree
hanging over part of the path that made it even more exciting as we missed it by
inches. You don’t have time to even think about the whole thing
because you are so suddenly out the otherside and just as soon you are at the
entrance to Rescue Bay, our stop for the night. As we enter Rescue
Bay we’re
surprised to see no one there yet as this is a popular anchorage. We had the
pick of the spots. We dropped anchor and it was only about 2:00 PM so
we had the whole afternoon to sit back, relax and explore.
RESCUE
BAY ANCHORAGE
ZIG THE HOOD ORNAMENT
So, after dropping Zig
off, I headed off to check out the
large group of birds that were perched on some drying rocks near the
entrance of the anchorage. As I
slowly neared the group I noticed a “sentry” flying over to check me out.
He began making the worst sounding ruckus I've ever heard a squawking at me. Another loud mouth on
a rock nearby heard him and started screeching loudly too warning the
rest of the group
about me, an "approaching predator" for sure. I slowed down to a crawl to
reassure them I was not threatening. I barely dipped my paddles in the
water, only ever so gently, so as not to create any kind of aggressive
movement. They held ground on the rocks for quite a long time but all
eyes were on me. I slowly continued to approach them nearer and nearer
but I must have reached a certain line of demarcation as the group on
the nearest rock, in perfect unison, began to flap their wings stumbling
around in place with those clumsy webbed feet not at all suitable for
rocky perches. The older birds swiftly
herded a little group of baby birds into the protection of the
middle of the group farther away from me. The little baby birds looked
like they were trying to flap their wings like the adults
but weren’t very good at it yet. Not wanting to frighten them
any further, I stopped
paddling and just sat in place for a long time to reassure them
that I was no threat. When they began to seem comfortable again I began
to slowly approach with no objection until that loud mouthed “sentry” or the yapper, what ever you want to call him,
gave the singnal which must have told the front group closest to me to
move back. So the front line all started
flapping their wings, all the while making a horrible screaming racket, and lifted
them selves up into the air with flapping wings much like a bunch of
helicopters taking off vertically and circled over the area and then
landed further back on the rocks. I still slowly approached again,
very quietly and then just sat and watched them again. After a long
time they finally let me come so close I could smell their wet
feathers. The birds are not rare or especially beautiful; just some
species of sea gull but a smaller species than what I’m familiar with.
You see them everywhere. They’re not the big slobs we are familiar with
at home as the only thing they know how to do is drop big splats of
white and green crap on your head, your boat or the dock twhich ever
they fly over first.
I was a little afraid of the same experience happening to me here as
they frantically circled over head but there was not a bad mannered one in
the bunch as no one discourteously dropped a poop on me. 
KNOTTY DOG HAD A
GREEN BEARD
DINNER ON THE BACK
DECK AS THE WEATHER WAS GREAT
Soon Zig and I are back
on the boat and Larry’s got things running ready to go and we head out.
It’s getting very foggy now. We head out into Mathieson Channel and can
barely see the shore. Larry turns both radars on to keep track near and
far. We have one narrow rapid to go through and then out into Milbank
Sound. I think it will be calm out there with all this fog. We hear on
the shipping channel that some big traffic is coming by Mc Ginnis
Island. We decide we’re not going through Reid Passage in this fog so
we’ll just go around it out into Milbank Sound instead. 
CHATTER ON THE RADIO
As we make our turn
towards Bella Bella and Shearwater, we see a beautiful old wooden boat
coming around the turn and heading north into Seaforth Channel. What a
magnificent site, just like the old days. 
