NORTHERN NEIGHBOURS

Stellar sea lions

We’ve had wonderful experiences of wildlife as we’ve sailed north. Some were so dramatic we’ve been learning to upload videos to share the joy.


On these rocks in the southeast entrance to Fife Sound, Broughton Archepelago – the mainland across from northern Vancouver Island – we watched this huge colony of stellar sea lions. There appeared to be both large males, females and young pups. And what sound effects! Here’s the video: Stellar sea lions

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ncgELwnsz4w


These grizzlies were watching us as we headed into a favourite anchorage near Princess Royal Island. Thomas anchored very gently, and tho they looked at us carefully and the cub started to run away, they stayed where they were. And we had a wonderful time watching.

See how close the bears are to our stern line.

The bears ate and ate, turning over clumps of greens (silverweed) and munching on mussels on old branches at the tiideling. The sedges grizzlies need this time of year hadn’t come up yet – it’s been a late spring.
Here are 2 little video’s:

Grizzly “Mom & Cub” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rQl0qD7bJI

Green Inlet grizzlies http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lET7F7rIQ4Y

Elephant seal Here’s a bathing beauty we met in Princess Royal Channel

Humpback whale near Dryad Point lighthouse

We watched this exuberant whale for what seemed like hours. After anchoring in another favourite, beautiful anchorage, watching and listening to a mating pair of sandhill cranes, the next morning our whale was still diving and splashing nearby.

Here are 2 more videos:
Dryad Point Humpback
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fiQ-OkuK7LQ

Humback rolls
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tVfZAfADi1g

Thomas has been reading and sharing an inspiring book we borrowed from Irene on Cortez. GREENPEACE, How a group of ecologists, Journalists and Visionaries Changed the World. By Rex Weyler, 2004

The whales we see are such a gift, real affirmation and forgiveness. A joyful sign of hope.

Here’s a poem from Lawrence Ferlinghetti, written in 1977 aboard the James Bay, Greenpeace’s ship, off Cape Flattery.

Dreamt of
Moby Dick the Great White Whale
Cruising about
with a flag flying
with an inscription on it
“I am what is left of Wild Nature”
and Ahab pursuing in a jet boat with a ray gun
and jet harpoons and super depth charges
and napalm flamethrowers and electric
underwater vibrators and the whole gory
glorious efficient military-political
industrial-scientific technology
of the greatest
civilization the
earth has ever
known
devoted to
the absolute extinction and
death of the natural world as we know it
And Captain Ahab Death Captain Anti-Poetry
Captain Dingbat No Face Captain Apocalypse
at the helm
of the Killer Ship of Death
And the blue-eyed whales
exhausted and running

but still
singing

to each other…

NOT A PIECE OF CAKE

Not a new tradition on La Sonrisa

With a lemon that needed using and leftover pie-crust dough it seemed a lemon meringue pie was in order. We’d finally used all of the canned pumpkin from Tamaya’s Halloween decorations, and the last of Ike’s apples. Thomas wondered “Will this become a new tradition crossing Queen Charlotte Sound?” When the pie ended up sideways in a plastic bag in the sink we concluded: “Not a new tradition!”

We’d looked forward to Kalect Island Cove, one of our favourite anchorages where we often wait for weather to cross the Sound. This time it was blowing too hard to jig for fish and raining too hard to enjoy leisurely beachcombing (this is the anchorage where Ted and Katharine did yoga on the slanted smooth pebble beach and Deacon Dave got lost in time among the low tide limpets). So when the weather forecast predicted a break in the southeast gales, with unfavourable weather likely for some days to come, we decided to take a chance. Soon we were sailing at 6+ knots with 2 – 3 metre waves crashing on our beam. We started with the little staysail. “I should reef the main,” says Thomas, as though he might not. “Yes! Yes!” says Elizabeth. We slowly added sail as the winds lightened though the waves and swell didn’t. It was a very fast trip, often 6-7-8 knots. It took 8 hours to do 40+ miles, a record for La Sonrisa. One of our crossing traditions--Thomas getting out the northern charts and putting the southern ones under the forward bunk--was left half-done. No time for pictures till we neared Calvert Island on the other side.

Calvert Island ahead - the waves always look smaller when photographed.

Eventually we sailed into spinnaker wind. And that’s when the humpback whale greeted us, at first with a resounding whack and splash of fin. Then we saw two of them fishing in circles. Such a welcome sight! Here we are in the north with the wonderful wildlife.

Humpback whales in Fitzhugh Sound

Eagle in the rain

One of the gifts of southeast winds, other than blowing us north, is the familiar rainforest rain. Our quiet little anchorage just before Addenbrook Light was as though the winds had never been. So we went fishing.

Rockfish, ling cod and greenling

The next day’s sail was almost as wild, minus the swell, and took us all the way to Codville Lagoon.
..to be continued

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THE NEIGHBOURHOOD?

Spring flowers remain from an old homestead

Do you remember when people said about black folk (or Jews, or Pakistanis) moving into the neighbourhood, that property values would plummet and the neighbourhood generally go to the dogs? Well, it’s happening with an interesting twist on the Coast.

It’s a lovely spot. We call it Castle Anchorage after the impressive rock face on the east side: Last stop before running the rapids going north (Yuks – Dents – Greene Pt.– Whirlpool), first stop returning south. There’s an old rickety float in the cove and some wonderful lingcod, rockfish and greenling where the current swirls around the point. It’s where Elizabeth first learned to talk raven.

We were cleaning fish on the aft deck. A hot September afternoon. Two eagles watched with hungry eye and quickly swooped for the carcasses we threw overboard. Several ravens were on the dock, giving us what for. “They can’t get the carcasses out of the water,” Elizabeth said. “They want us to throw some onto the float.” And then she began talking to them in a wondrous mixture of raven and English.

Sure enough, that is what they wanted. “Thank you (Hy-clops),” they said!

Last fall a new thing appeared in Castle Anchorage: a fancy wharf attached to the north shore, with an airplane ramp complete with plane. Several cottages had been built over the years, around the point, and one fairly substantial house. But nobody seemed to be at home. We edged our way carefully in, tied up to the old float, and proceeded to catch a lovely lingcod in the shadow of the plane’s pontoons.

blue lingcod

This year we had a boisterous spinnaker run north from Irene’s on Cortes Island,

planning to overnight at Castle Anchorage, catch some fish, and time our departure for the turn to ebb in the first set of rapids next morning. The plane wasn’t there, but a powerboat was. Again we carefully edged in and tied to the old float.

gifts from an old coastal homestead

I was down below lighting the fire, Elizabeth on the float sorting flowers, when a nattily-dressed man strode down to the new dock and yelled across: “Private!” Elizabeth called me up from down below. Standing on the aft deck so I could hear, I asked if he had a problem with us tying up there. “It’s private property,” he said.

Not wanting to argue, I asked if it was all right, however, to spend the night. “O.k.,” he said, grudgingly: “But only the night. Don’t go ashore, and don’t come back!” “Hy-clops,” I said, “(Thank you.)” But only the ravens understood that I was trying to be polite!

Technically, unless he has a foreshore lease for the cove (which I doubt), the old float with anchors and buoys, cables and chains, simply clutters up a public anchorage, making it impossible for anyone else to use it. And it’s one of the few anchorages within striking distance of the rapids. Maybe if we meet again I’ll ask to see a copy of the lease.

Needless to say we didn’t feel much like fishing. Elizabeth immediately wanted to start a new blogspot called “!&%*# of the Coast,” but her gentler nature prevailed.

It is a problem, however. As property values increase, only certain people can afford to own and build on the Coast. They have no real investment in the life there. Nor do they understand coastal etiquette or appreciate the needs of those who travel these waters. Money talks, private property prevails, and—unfortunately--there goes the neighbourhood!