The marine weather forecast predicts gale force winds in the next few days so we decide to wait out the weather tied up to a dock. Ocean Falls has the finest fresh water and friendliest docks on the coast so we come in for some fun, companionship and shore time. The weather has been great all week; there is nothing quite so beautiful as sun shining on snow fields that remind me of colossal lace doilies carelessly tossed atop the mountain peaks surrounding Cousins Inlet. Ocean Falls used to be a booming mill town with hotels, restaurants,
apartment buildings, a school, bank, fire department, Olympic-sized swimming pool, tennis courts, etc. Now the wind blows the ragged remains of curtains through broken windows and roof beams sag until they collapse. Semi-tame deer wander around abandoned front yards, nibbling on feral foliage of what were once prized gardens.On our bike ride today we meet a friendly deer who watches us approach with curiousity but no apparent fear. I get within about 20 feet of his velvet-covered antlers and decide that's close enough. He looks up from browsing on the delicate leaves of wild salmon berries nad ferns as I capture his digital portrait.
I hear some commotion and find a young bear hanging around the back door of a little lodge/restaurant that caters to the seasonal logging crews that make their headquarters here. He has been lured down from the forest by the unexpected bounty of the bag of garbage left out before going in to the burn barrel. It takes several very excited and unjustifiedly brave barking dogs to remind it of the boundaries between humans and bears, and he lumbers off, back to the woods. (But 15 minutes later he is back, just in case anything is left behind...) The young bear's paws are just huge, like a big, black puppy’s.
We anchor in a tiny, private nook and soon dinghy out to explore and fish. I am dropped off on an intriguing-looking island while Patrick continues out to a rocky spot where he caught a big fish last year. I from my shell-covered island, and Patrick in the
dinghy both spot a humpback whale at the same moment, we call each other on the walkie-talkies. I catch a picture of Patrick and The Whale ... Patrick zooms back to the island to pick me up, and we go back out on the water to watch it lunge-feed, diving down deep and then swimming vertically to the surface with its huge mouth gaping wide to gulp in the herring. With all the excitement of the whale, Patrick and I return to the Tenacious without any fish, but another dinghy trip produces two beautiful lingcod for dinner!
Today I hunt along the waterline on a falling tide, alone on a stretch of beach that once was home
to hundreds of Kwakwaka'wakw natives. Bears live here now, I have seen them. A mother and cub have been foraging along the cut formed by the outflow of a fresh-water creek. Their pawprints, large and small, are deeply impressed into the sandy mud of the bank. So I keep my ears open and my instincts sharp. Ravens fly back and forth overhead, conducting their raven business at the top of their lungs. Robins and seagulls hop among the bladderwrack seeking morsels. I can hear the high-pitched 'keek-keek-keek' of a bald eagle but don't see it until I am started by a loud splash behind me. I lurch around just in time to see the eagle struggling shoreward, butterfly-stroking with its wings through the shallow water toward shore. His final hop onto the beach discloses his prey: a small flatfish, which it proceeds to tear apart with beak and talons. Later, back on board Tenacious, Pat reports that he watched a similar scene, perhaps the same eagle, enacted on shore near our anchorage.
June 11, 2012: Out to Sea
July 8, 2012: Patrick and the Whale
We have rounded Cape Caution with alacrity and a certain amount of nausea from the ship's cat. Four-foot combined swell and wind waves are do-able but not particularly pleasant. The swell typically comes from the northwest and for at least of portion of the passage, hits us at an angle that puts Tenacious into an unnerving roll. Rather than relying on the auto-pilot, Patrick takes the
ship's wheel in hand, reading the on-coming waves and trying to avoid the worst of it, but despite his skill and vigilance the occasional rogue wave knocks our stern quarter into a wallowing slither, or sends an arcing plume of green seawater over the bow to startle us with a blinding splatter across the clear plastic windshield of the cockpit. Pleasant surprises include sighting a trio of orcas heading south and a pair of sea otters, rolling and floating, their be-whiskered faces peering nearsightedly at our passing ship. Three hours later we make the turn into Smith Sound. Finally, the seas are following us rather than rolling us around in the dreaded wallowing motion.
We have rounded Cape Caution with alacrity and a certain amount of nausea from the ship's cat. Four-foot combined swell and wind waves are do-able but not particularly pleasant. The swell typically comes from the northwest and for at least of portion of the passage, hits us at an angle that puts Tenacious into an unnerving roll. Rather than relying on the auto-pilot, Patrick takes the
ship's wheel in hand, reading the on-coming waves and trying to avoid the worst of it, but despite his skill and vigilance the occasional rogue wave knocks our stern quarter into a wallowing slither, or sends an arcing plume of green seawater over the bow to startle us with a blinding splatter across the clear plastic windshield of the cockpit. Pleasant surprises include sighting a trio of orcas heading south and a pair of sea otters, rolling and floating, their be-whiskered faces peering nearsightedly at our passing ship. Three hours later we make the turn into Smith Sound. Finally, the seas are following us rather than rolling us around in the dreaded wallowing motion. We anchor in a tiny, private nook and soon dinghy out to explore and fish. I am dropped off on an intriguing-looking island while Patrick continues out to a rocky spot where he caught a big fish last year. I from my shell-covered island, and Patrick in the
dinghy both spot a humpback whale at the same moment, we call each other on the walkie-talkies. I catch a picture of Patrick and The Whale ... Patrick zooms back to the island to pick me up, and we go back out on the water to watch it lunge-feed, diving down deep and then swimming vertically to the surface with its huge mouth gaping wide to gulp in the herring. With all the excitement of the whale, Patrick and I return to the Tenacious without any fish, but another dinghy trip produces two beautiful lingcod for dinner!
June 26: Beachcombed Treasures
I love beachcombing. I hope to find old glass beads, artifacts and other evidence of early occupation, but stumble upon (sometimes literally) all sorts of other treasures, too. Sometimes it is a shard of old Victorian-era transferware china, a piece of an old lustreware teapot or a bit of blue opalescent glass that must have been part of a treasured ornament. I find bones and teeth and speculate endlessly on what sort of animal they might have come from. Gears from old clocks. Brass fittings from old boats. Enchanting pieces of driftwood that would make a beautiful .... something ... for someone. Many seem to make their way on board Tenacious. Today I hunt along the waterline on a falling tide, alone on a stretch of beach that once was home
to hundreds of Kwakwaka'wakw natives. Bears live here now, I have seen them. A mother and cub have been foraging along the cut formed by the outflow of a fresh-water creek. Their pawprints, large and small, are deeply impressed into the sandy mud of the bank. So I keep my ears open and my instincts sharp. Ravens fly back and forth overhead, conducting their raven business at the top of their lungs. Robins and seagulls hop among the bladderwrack seeking morsels. I can hear the high-pitched 'keek-keek-keek' of a bald eagle but don't see it until I am started by a loud splash behind me. I lurch around just in time to see the eagle struggling shoreward, butterfly-stroking with its wings through the shallow water toward shore. His final hop onto the beach discloses his prey: a small flatfish, which it proceeds to tear apart with beak and talons. Later, back on board Tenacious, Pat reports that he watched a similar scene, perhaps the same eagle, enacted on shore near our anchorage.June 11, 2012: Out to Sea
After a little more than a week of pressure washing, repairing, 
shopping, stowing, cleaning and hauling, we are almost ready to leave the home dock in pretty Ladner, BC and begin our summer journey. We have hauled Tenacious out for her annual bottom check. She doesn't need bottom paint this year, so we pressure-wash the winter's green growth off and change the sacrificial zincs that protect the prop and other metal fittings below the waterline from the depredation of seawater. It's a little unnerving to work beneath our multi-ton hull. She is suspended by two (hopefully brand-new or at least recently-inspected) canvas straps hanging from a 100-ton Travellift.
We take it for granted that cloudy skies on the day we leave the dock is an omen that fine weather will follow us all summer ... The whole boat is filled with the fragrance of peonies; Patrick bought a huge bouquet for me at the Ladner Street Market on Sunday and I supplemented it with wild honeysuckle from the roadside. Our summer adventure begins.
shopping, stowing, cleaning and hauling, we are almost ready to leave the home dock in pretty Ladner, BC and begin our summer journey. We have hauled Tenacious out for her annual bottom check. She doesn't need bottom paint this year, so we pressure-wash the winter's green growth off and change the sacrificial zincs that protect the prop and other metal fittings below the waterline from the depredation of seawater. It's a little unnerving to work beneath our multi-ton hull. She is suspended by two (hopefully brand-new or at least recently-inspected) canvas straps hanging from a 100-ton Travellift. 
We take it for granted that cloudy skies on the day we leave the dock is an omen that fine weather will follow us all summer ... The whole boat is filled with the fragrance of peonies; Patrick bought a huge bouquet for me at the Ladner Street Market on Sunday and I supplemented it with wild honeysuckle from the roadside. Our summer adventure begins.
