Salmon and Otters

July 22 Salmon in Otter Channel
Its a red letter day, or rather a red salmon filet day! Patrick dropped me off for some beachcombing on Pitt Island and he took the dinghy toward Otter Channel to troll for salmon. He caught a lovely silvery coho! I found a large, round cedar burl on the beach. I have visions of a wooden bowl or sculpture from it. It's about the size of a football helmet. It was all I could do to wrestle it out of the jumble of huge driftwood logs it was half-buried in, haul it down to the water's edge and lift it in to the dinghy.

The cats, who seem to have a sixth sense about when seafood is coming on board, met us on the afterdeck where Pat was beginning to clean the fish. As he fileted, the cats demanded their share of "sushi treats" and eventually had enough. We dined royally on salmon filets with a pesto garnish and a drizzle of balsamic reduction glaze. Several more salmon dinners await us in the freezer.

July 21 The Cutest Thing in Hartley Bay
We stayed overnight behind the rock breakwater on the docks at Hartley Bay, a small Indian village with a cedar log cultural center, and friendly people. We talked to a dock neighbor who had had prodigious luck catching coho salmon in Otter Channel, which is on our planned route north. We went to sleep dreaming of beatuiful, thick red fillets... Patrick woke me up at 6:15am with two words, "Lydia! Otter!" I was awake, out of the rack and looking out the upper salon window in bare seconds. Pat had been watching an eagle, and suddenly it had swooped down toward the muddy margin at the bottom of the rock breakwater. That was when Pat realized that the eagle was after a river otter, who scampered for dear life up the rocks and into its den in some thick shrubs at the top of the bank. The otter was already gone despite my record-breaking dash, and since I was awake I thought I'd sit in the cockpit with a cup of coffee and enjoy the early morning quiet. I figured the otter wouldn't be seen for a while - having had the fear of God and eagles put into him by recent events - but I was wrong. It wasn't long before I heard a crunching noise in the water just behind our stern. There was the otter with his head out of the water, chomping down a fish with his mouth wide open. Once he had finished his little nosh, he dove back underwater. I spotted him again, coming out of the water near the place where the eagle had missed him. (I've tried to upload a video clip of the otters several times, and I'm having trouble - I'll try to clip a photo and add it another time. Sorry!)

Visiting Shangri-La

July 19 Visiting Shangri-La
We think we may have found our favorite anchorage of all time: Khutze (koots) Inlet. We are anchored in front of an utterly glorious series of waterfalls. The rain that has been wetting us for the past few days is paying off here - the falls are in full spate. I must have taken a hundred pictures; it reminded of Shangri-La.

We had some great adventures here. Patrick climbed up to the base of the falls and found a huge iceberg - we had thought it was a granite boulder. You can see it in the picture to the right, on the left side near the base of the waterfall, and in a closer view below. Patrick is dwarfed by this 'iceberg on land.' He peeked in to the tunnel that ran all the way under it, but wisely decided to go no farther.

We took the dinghy up the river as far as we could go. The river water was cloudy pale green, a sure sign that its source is glacial snow melt. We found a hidden waterfall and had to clamber through this brush and downed logs to see it. I had a major "don't look down" moment when I had to stand on a moss-covered fallen log that was across the outflow of the waterfall to get this picture. There was nothing to hold on to ... Note the lovely, figure-enhancing PFD (personal flotation device) over my hooded sweatshirt and under my rain jacket, the muddy jeans and high-top boots. This is typical 'going- ashore' wardrobe for me. A far cry from opera opening night attire!

July 17 The Big House at Klemtu

Last year, as we thought about going farther north, Patrick coined a toast that is a take-off on the alien/man Klaatu's order to Gort in the movie, The Day the Earth Stood Still. Rather than "Klaatu, barada, nikto," we toasted to "Klemtu, barada, nikto," and we translate that as "The norther, the better." This year, we finally made it up to the First Nations village of Klemtu and had the chance to visit their beautiful Big House. Francis, our tour guide, told us wonderful stories from his Kitasoo heritage, including the one that explains why The Raven walks the way he does. We can't tell that one on the web - but ask us when we see you! The huge house posts with their carved images of the four major clan symbols, Raven, Eagle, Wolf and Orca, were so impressive. We used different carved sticks to beat the huge cedar log drum, eliciting a surprising range of tones. Wish we could have been there for a potlatch! Francis was wonderful, and we enjoyed our visit greatly.

July 10 Ocean Falls

We're back in Ocean Falls. This year, as we tied up at the dock, we were greeted by the new Canada Coast Guard rescue boat - aptly named "About Time." That gave us a laugh. We visited here last year and were fascinated with the abandoned business buildings and homes. This year we went farther into the empty buildings. A large, poured-concrete apartment building, despite its collapsing ceilings and gutted appliances, revealed details about the lives of its last inhabitants. Though the place had been stripped of most items of value, we could make educated guesses about the families it once housed. A master bedroom that had last been occupied in the '70s had wallpaper featuring large, harvest gold flowers. It was easy to identify a little girl's room from its pink walls. Another building that must have housed the school had lab stations that reminded me of the ones in the science classroom in my junior high school. One room still had library books, published in the 1960s. Broken windows, moss growing on linoleum floors, falling sheetrock and insulation -- after a little while, we both felt the need to get out. It wasn't that there were ghosts, but somehow, the spaces still felt haunted.

Out in the sun again, we pedaled our fold-up bikes through town and followed the road to Martin Valley, a couple of miles away, to buy fresh-grown lettuce from a lovely woman whose greenhouse is in her back yard. Along the way we spotted the hot colors of ripe salmon berries growing wild, and we risked clothing and skin to pick a hatful from the prickly bushes. Sweet and warm from the sun, it was tempting to just eat them as we found them (and I must admit, there were berries that followed just that fate) but Patrick had a better idea ... His salmon berry strudel was beyond delicious!

July 10 Eight Whales Before Breakfast
We spent the night before last tied up at Duncanby Lodge in Rivers Inlet. It was so nice to be in a luxury resort and have a delicious restaurant dinner, not to mention an extremely long, hot shower. The last time I had anything other than a sea shower (where you wet down, turn off the water, soap up, and turn the water on once more to rinse) was in Port McNeill and that was back in June! On our way out of the restaurant after dinner I picked up a copy of the resort's high-quality color brochure describing their 2009 fly-in fishing packages. Once we got under way early the next morning I flipped through it - and was surprised to see Tenacious in one of the photo spreads! We had been there last year and apparently they liked the look of Tenacious's sweeping lines at their dock, against the backdrop of a lovely sunset. (This link takes you to a slide show pqt3, and one of the 5 pictures in the show has Tenacious in it - the only sailboat you'll see... But the one in the brochure is even better!) http://www.duncanbylodgemarina.com/new_marina.html

We didn't have much time to enjoy the brochure or the photograph, because within minutes of getting off the dock, Patrick spotted a humpback whale. As it turned out, it was the first of many we saw that day. We saw two mothers with babies, and even saw a humpback whale breach! It was quite a sight to see a 50- or 60-foot, multi-ton creature launching itself out of the water to land with a colossal splash on its side. We counted 8 whales in less than an hour. After that I went below to make breakfast. We saw several more as we continued north up Fitz Hugh Channel. Patrick took this picture while I was videotaping one of them. That's me on the bow - the whale is in the water...

July 7 Takush Harbour
We're anchored in a tiny little bay in the wilderness at the moment. It's so calm and beautiful, but its also pouring rain. Yesterday we rounded Cape Caution, which is considered one of the 'gates' to passage up here. Since the Cape marks the area where boats are beyond the northern tip of Vancouver Island, it can be a challenging stretch of water; there is no protection from Pacific swells. A lot of boaters just don't go this farth north -- they don't trust either their boats or themselves to attempt it. This is our second year going around Caution, and we ended up in 4-6' swells, which was absolutely no fun. The cats agreed with me. The highlight of the passage was spotting our first humpback whale of the season, and it was a fine, big one. He was traveling south, and we were traveling north, so we soon parted. I think he was probably trying to get out of this dreadful rain...

We eventually made it out of the swells and in to Smith Sound, and in return for about 3 miserable hours, we came in to this beautiful little anchorage. Looking at the chart, I was amazed that Patrick had the courage to try to anchor in here. It's so small, and rather shallow, but the Captain knows what he's doing, and as a result we are all alone in this tranquil, private nook. There are lots of little 3-4" fish in this bay (herring maybe?) that jump out of the water like miniature trained dolphins. We almost had one jump into the dinghy!

I explored the islands yesterday. I've read that in the 1800s and early 1900s this place was the permanent winter village of a native band called the Gwasilla. By 1960 there were very few of them left, and they all moved to Port Hardy on Vancouver Island. From the colossal volume of broken china and glass that are liberally sprinkled all over the place, they must have smashed every single plate, bottle and jar in the village before they left. I even found shards of the same china pattern here that I have seen at several other midden beaches - it must have been a very popular pattern! I also found older bits of depression glass, and even flow blue and other transferware china patterns from the 1800s. One piece I came across was marked with the manufacturers' name, Grindley Bros., England, on the bottom. I have pieces made by them among my antiques at home!

This morning on the beach I heard loons calling, and I was "buzzed" at least a dozen times by hummingbirds. Patrick suggested that in my periwinkle blue raincoat and knee-high yellow mud boots, perhaps they think I look like some kind of new flowering plant. I also spotted a band of gigantic maurading slugs (see picture.) They had to be 4 or 5 inches long. If these guys moved a little faster, I think they could beat you up for your lunch money! The islands are mostly covered with wild berry bushes that are all in flower now, along with the huge, lacy-white parasols of cow parsley. The hummingbirds couldn't be any happier. Rain and all, neither could I.