North to Hartley Bay

 

Heading up Whale Channel, there was enough wind to raise the sails, wahoo! After anchoring for several nights in the remote coves and inlets of Princess Royal Island (where we saw no one, but hoped to glimpse a rare Kermode, or  “Spirit Bear,” a black bear with a rare recessive gene that causes it to be born with white fur), we docked in the First Nations’ village of Hartley Bay.  Docking was tricky; it’s a tiny marina.  We were lucky to find a spot on the main dock the first night, but learned the next morning that Hartley Bay’s twice-weekly ferry would be pulling in and that we might want to move the Heron.  And good thing we did!  When the ferry pulled up the whole town came down for supplies; we would have been right in everyone’s way…   

The community of Hartley Bay was wonderful.  We met fisherman Wally Bolton, who gave us two enormous Dungeness crabs and a beautiful ling cod.  Some other fishermen tossed us a nice Coho salmon off their boat (“here’s a small one, just enough for two” they said.  NOT, it was huge!).  We grilled that up our first night for dinner.

 

Kim holding a ginormous live crab, (the way Wally instructed so she won't get pinched)!

Hartley Bay's hand-hewn cedar boardwalk leads two miles through the rainforest... lovely!

 

Exploring B.C.'s Great Bear Rainforest, a wild stretch of western red cedar, hemlock, and spruce that runs 250 miles down British Columbia’s coast and forms one of the largest coastal temperate rain forests in the world, was extraordinary.  It’s a spooky, wild, mysterious place:  there are wolves here that fish, deer that swim, Western red cedar trees that have stood a thousand years or more – and  a black bear that is white...  Having no luck finding the shy, elusive Spirit Bear on our own, we were incredibly lucky to track down Hartley Bay’s local guide, Marven Robinson. 

The one and only  Marven Robinson.

 

With Marven, we spent an afternoon exploring Princess Island’s Cameron Cove.  Speeding across the water in Marven's boat, we were surrounded by more amazing humpbacks – so close we could smell their breath...  

Humpback fluke: each, we learned, is as unique as a human fingerprint.

Humpbacks feeding side by side.  Another fact:  humpback sons remain with their mothers for life. True!

Another graceful fluke... beautiful!

Marven dropped us off with a canister of bear spray and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back,” (after he anchored and kayaked ashore), eek!

Jeff armed with bear spray...

The ground in Cameron Cove's estuary was littered with mauled salmon carcasses.  Hundreds of pink salmon were hurling themselves upstream – it was a remarkable sight,  something we’ll not soon forget.  While we stood waiting nervously for Marven, we were dive-bombed by dozens of bald eagles and juveniles, pairs of squawking blue herons, tiny white gulls, cawing ravens...

One of many magnificent bald eagles...

Marven returns... phew!

Salmon swimming up Cameron Cove's gin-clear stream...

 

When Marven returned we hiked into a beautiful section of moss-covered forest and sat for several hours waiting for bears to come to the river and feed.  It was a quiet evening (bear wise), and we only saw one black bear.    But having the opportunity to spend an afternoon with Marven and learn about the issues facing the Great Bear Rainforest was fantastic.  We hoped to hook up with him the next week, when we returned to report on the King Pacific Lodge and hopefully head out Spirit Bear viewing again…

Our black bear.