Ashore, Serpent Islands!

 

After raising the sails – finally – then threading our way through the byzantine chain of Spider islands, we anchored in a hidden bay off Hurricane Cove.  Amazing!  The next morning, we motored past the hazardous Mosquito Islets, anchoring for a hike just off the lovely deserted Serpent Islands.  

 We dinghied ashore… and where met by mysterious tracks.  What were they?  Wolf?  Cougar?  Yellow Lab? We met a naturalist a few weeks later who confirmed that they were, in fact, wolverine. Whoa!

Wolverine meets wolverine...

 

Not sure what we’d find on the far side of the cove, we followed the tracks to the Pacific … where whatever had left them had long since vanished.  We explored tide pools rich with kelp and invertebrates, poked about piles of driftwood, and simply enjoyed being together on a wild deserted island in the sun.

Feels Like Polynesia, Almost

 

We’d dreamed of taking the boys to explore the wild islands north of Cape Caution – and luckily, our weather held for this leg of the journey.  We left Duncanby Marina, a newly restored fishing lodge where we’d docked at the mouth of River’s Inlet, motoring up Fitz Hugh Sound along the eastern edge of Calvert Island.   Watching Duncanby guests returning with obscene amounts of just-caught Coho (including a 38 pounder), James tried valiantly to rig a super-salmon lure and troll off  Heron’s stern , but no bites.  

 

We anchored in Calvert Island’s Pruth Bay just in time for a visit to the Hakai Research Institute and hike along its rain forest trail, which emerges upon Hakai’s magnificent West Beach.   The fragrant cedar-fresh scent of the forest changed as we neared the beach side, hinting at salt air.  We could hear the rhythm of gentle surf pounding.  “There’s surf here?” the boys asked, hopefully.  

The surf turned out to be one-foot rollers sweeping a mile-long beach, but the boys took off running down the powder-soft sand anyway.    Jeff and I took a walk in the opposite direction, then we all sat on a weathered driftwood log, buried our toes in the warm sand, and watched the sun set over the Pacific...

 

Hotdogs and Humpbacks

 

Seas were so calm rounding Cape Caution (named Cape Caution for a reason, no doubt), that Sam grilled up hot dogs for lunch.  Delish!  No sooner had we wiped up the mustard than we heard a long eerie-sounding exhalation from somewhere off the starboard bow.  Humpbacks! 

 

A pair of them, each 30-45 feet long, were feeding off two islets near the Cape. How much does a  humpback eat?  About 4,000 pounds of krill and plankton a day. We sat, full of hot dogs, and watched them floating and feeding.  It was mesmerizing.

The next hour offered up more wonders:  a fraternity of rowdy sea lions…long-necked cormorants stretching their wings… bald eagles fat as small dogs… and inside the protected coves just south of Rivers Inlet, MORE humpbacks!  We floated for an hour, watching them surface right beside Heron, land listened to their breathing.  In the morning, the humpbacks were so close, Jeff could see their barnacles glistening from the dock. 

Humpback...

Sea lion...

Humpback fluke...

Orcas Everywhere...

 

Pushing off the dock at Cordova Lodge, we shot through Greenpointe and Whirlpool rapids, riding the remnants of a flood tide, which added an extra 4 -5 knots to Heron’s boat speed.  We clocked 11.5 over the bottom (practically flying by Heron standards), and turned into Johnstone Strait.

Johnstone can be rough, but mercifully, conditions were strangely calm: the water flat, the sky blue.  We spotted our first Bonaparte gulls, a  flock of  small, elegant white birds skittering over the water's surface.  Along with the chilly fresh air, the birds signaled that we were headed north again…

Jeff and James were playing backgammon in the cockpit when we suddenly spotted orcas off the port beam. “Grab the camera!” “Get the binoculars!” we all shouted at one another,  waiting to see where they’d surface next.  We didn’t have to wait long;  in a few moments two pairs surfaced and followed right beside us, not even 25 yards off the boat. It was two mothers, each trailed closely by a calf, and the visceral thrill of seeing those big black and tiny black dorsal fins slicing through the water right alongside us is almost indescribable.

 

We knew that about 30 different orca pods move between Washington state and the northern coast of British Columbia – and that nearly half of them can be found in Johnstone Strait in summer, feeding on migrating salmon.  But we never counted on seeing them; last summer we crossed Johnstone twice without spotting a single whale.

This year, though, felt like we’d hit the jackpot:  the four orcas joined another group closer to shore – including a huge alpha male – and soon they all formed a wide flank, following us off the stern.  We were surrounded by orcas for over an hour.  By the time we pulled into the docks at Port McNeill we were still on a high, feeling like we’d sailed into a National Geographic special.  After dinner we re-played the videos the boys shot, reliving a remarkable day.

 

Seely Boys Aboard, Yahoo!

We were up before sunrise today, pushing off from SYC’s Cortes Outstation at 5 a.m. in order to time our passage through the Yuculta Rapids at slack tide and make it to Dent Island Lodge for the boys’ arrival at noon.   The instant we slid away from the dock there was an enormous white flash.  Had we forgotten to disconnect our power cord, blowing up the outstation?  No, thankfully – it was lightning soon followed by thunder.  Bundled up on deck, coffee mugs in hand, we huddled under our new canvas trying to enjoy the dramatic sunrise and chill morning rain...

 

 

By the time Sam and James landed at Dent Island Lodge the sun was shining thankfully, and it seemed warm enough for a swim.  (NOT EVEN CLOSE!)  As the boys jumped off the back of the Heron, a small crowd gathered to take bets on how long they’d endure the 54 degree water.  

(Average:  3 seconds.)

Dad, do you have a towel??!!!

 

We enjoyed cocktails for 9 in Heron's cockpit, along with H's fresh-caught salmon and Corliss wines in the Dent Island Lodge dining room, overlooking Canoe Pass with old and new friends:  Howard and Robbie Wright, Mike and Lori Corliss, and their daughter, Sydney.  All too soon it was time to cast off. but happily, we were headed "North" again with our favorite crew...