Ocean Falls

Another day in downtown Ocean Falls. This is our third, and is due to utter laziness, and not adverse weather. Left Fury Cove on a beauteous morning with flat water. We were accompanied up Fitz Hugh Sound by some whales who seemed oblivious to our presence, and were more than content to continue feeding. It is always a pleasant change to view some of the flora and fauna as opposed to logs and deadheads. Just so long as one is not dashed back to reality with an encounter with one of the aforementioned. As we progress northward, there are weather reports of winds building from the northwest. Nothing spectacular, but building all the same. In the “old days” a nor’wester. Now in times long past ,sea faring men were noted for their lack of conversation skills, this possibly as a result of not being heard above the sound of the wind screaming through the halyards, of maybe that they were just unsociable suckers at the best, and better off at sea. At any rate, this attitude resulted in many an abbreviation and rather than state that “the winds are building from the north-west” a “nor’wester” would cover the same territory. This also applied a so’easter or so’wester, but even ancient mariners drew the line at north and south as a we’wester only sounded as though they had a stammer. All this changed when someone determined that women aboard ships were no less unlucky than say shooting an Albatross, for example. Women being somewhat more able to vent their feelings verbally, in as many words, and for as long as the situation required, created a whole new aura on the ocean. In my own situation for example, if I have not explicitly followed instructions from the Admiral, will likely be reminded of this for some considerable period of time, and in as colorful expletives as the situations require. On the other hand, had my failure to follow instructions resulted in an unpleasant boat ride, the conversation could be short and terse, followed by long periods of silence. Go figure. It is also my understanding that BC Ferries is having an extensive study done in an effort to re-instate the policy of women being bad luck on boats.

It seems strange to pass Lama Passage and ply our way on towards Ocean Falls. Lama Passage leads towards Bella Bella and Shearwater, and has been the way that we have gone in the past. The fact that Ocean Falls has good docks, good power and abundant clean, clear water all at a reasonable price, may have some bearing on this choice. It seems that by the time we make it this far some laundry is in order and in Shearwater even the whites come out brown, to match the color of the water they are washed in. Now those who live in that area claim that this brown water is perfectly harmless, and even quite all right to drink. As most of the resident population has rather a brownish tinge, maybe as a result of the water, we choose not to take this chance.

Water is one thing in abundance at Ocean Falls, considering that it has an average rainfall of some 14.5 feet per year. Now put in it’s proper perspective, this would be equivalent to stacking three Bonnies end to end. That is quite a bit of water. However on the two days of summer the weather is spectacular and the scenery beautiful. Not to mention that the 40 full time residents are very friendly and helpful. It is hard to envision that this community once boasted a population in excess of 5000 people, and the largest hotel north of Seattle, with some 400 rooms. This was back in the times that pulp and paper was king, and money was no object. The 1970’s started the hard times for Ocean Falls, and a number of factors, both financial and political, brought about it’s eventual demise. Well so much for the history lesson, time to head north. More to follow.

T

To Fish or Not To Fish

A new day, and time to put the money where the mouth is, as it were. After convincing ourselves that there were fish to be had, to wily fishers such as ourselves, Bonnie and I backtracked down Johnstone Strait with Art and Janice, heading for Codero Channel and some open fishing area. Having awaited the incoming tide that we might extricate ourselves from the shore side of the dock at Port Neville, we now had the advantage of an incoming tide and hefty current down the strait. Quite a thrill at Race passage. Hair straight back and we are finally getting the fuel mileage that we would like. Never lasts as long as it should as we make our way to Bickley Bay. Too late in the day for the elusive finny creatures, but time to drop the crab trap and yet again over eat.

Up at the crack of noon, or there about, as we ply the waters with the most appealing of lures, and all the skill of the dedicated hunter. Nary a salmon to be had, but we did manage to get a pair of ling in the bucket, and Art and Janice did about the same. Now all we have to do is convince ourselves that it requires the same finesse to boat a bottom fish as it does to take a salmon. Doesn’t take a lot of convincing that they all eat very well. Add to this a trap load of crab and once again too many munchies.

A new day and more decisions. With the uncertainty of Queen Charlotte Strait ahead of us, the prudent mind says to get back pointed north, and after much procrastination and fond farewells that is exactly what we did. Timed our passage through Green rapids and Whirlpool Rapids, and found ourselves safely ensconced in Forward Harbour for the night. Back to Johnstone Strait on the morrow.

Poked our nose out into Sunderland Channel in the AM and noticed that it did indeed bounce rather nicely in an up and down motion. This as a result of incoming water down Johnstone, accompanied by significant winds. A couple of hours of this and we decided to tuck back into Port Neville and let the water settle down a bit. Like Yogi Bera would say “ déjà vu all over again”. Two days later and we are back in Port Neville. Sat around in the boat for a couple of hours, and the water began to flatten out nicely. Pointed north once again and away we went. Some things just get better as they get older, a single malt for one and this day for another. The water just kept getting flatter and even the sun reared its ugly head. What with the great water and the sunshine, even Bonnie was happy. As we neared Port McNeill and prior to crossing Queen Charlotte Strait we decided to top off our fuel tanks. Now normally we do this little duty at Port Hardy as the price of fuel tends to be somewhat more reasonable there. Not !! Would you believe abut 3 cents a litre less at Port McNeill. I believe that they all belong to a society of bandits and at least Jesse James wore a mask. However, thanks to Bonnie and here telephone, we did save that 3 cents a litre. Water still flat and the day yet fine, so north it is to yet another port. Port Alexander on Nigei Island. Now as all the other ports we have spoken of, had real live people, one might jump to the conclusion that there may be inhabitants here. Not so, but it is a great spot to drop the pick prior to crossing the open water of Queen Charlotte Strait and gains about 15 miles from leaving port Hardy.

A fine nights sleep and a six o’clock awakening to water with a mirror finish prompted us to weigh anchor and try the crossing. The report from West Sea Otter listed swells of one and a half metres, but calm winds, and the reports from both Pine and Egg Islands had light winds. Prefer a metre or less at West Sea Otter but what the hey. For the land lubbers amongst us, West Sea Otter in not a cute furry little animal placed on the water for our viewing pleasure, but an unmanned reporting device giving sea conditions in Queen Charlotte Strait. Made our way out Douglas Channel, taking some current on our beak, (the pointy part of the boat), along with some ups and downs of ocean swells. We are still a way from the Strait and already Bonnie is starting to clench her window sill. A quick taste of the open water convinced us that a smoother passage might be had later, and so, back to Port Alexander. Water dead calm, deceitful little devil. As we sat about enjoying the day, the reports kept getting better. WSO is now 1.2 metres, with Pine and Egg as before. Up with the anchor and back down Douglas Channel. Less bounce to the ounce on this pass and away we go. The closer we get to Pine Island the greater the roller coaster ride, until Bonnie started to make little whimpering sounds. Now I have been around long enough to interpret the signs, and I know that if mom ain’t happy, nobody’s happy. Back to Port Alexander. Now, had we turned off the ships radio, we might have spent the remainder of the day with a good book and sunshine, but oh no, we’re not that clever. It is now 3 o’clock and West Sea Otter is less than one mtere. Bonnie suggests that if we wait much later in the day, we would be making the crossing in the dark. That is not going to happen, so pull the pick and off we go. Suffice to say that Bonnie kept horizontal on the crossing, but in spite of the carnival ride we made it to Fury Bay unscathed, and in time for a little relaxation and then to bed.

A new day and a new sun. One could get used to this. Also no wind. A definite bonus when on the water. However, it is Sunday, a day of rest. I curled myself up on the chesterfield with a good book and the warmth of an early morning sun. Quite contented, like a fat old tom cat. I was very nearly to the point of purring when “she who decides” determined that the day of rest could include “a few chores”. It is too small to hide on a boat and too cold to swim to shore, so a few chores it was. Oh well, nothing so pressing in our schedule that a vegetative state can’t be post-poned. Tomorrow is another day and we will ply our way north once again. On to Ocean Falls. Will update from time to time. Care to all.

T

North to Alaska — well almost!!

Summertime and the livin’ is easy. Not. A mad scramble to finish off the must do things for our trip north. The Alaska thing is an "almost". It is more like an Alaska panhandle thing. If you stand on your tippy toes you can very nearly see Alaska across Dixon Entrance. It looks a lot like northwestern BC but they haven’t cut down most of their trees. But I am getting ahead of myself.

We made our Costco run for a few provisions. Mistake. Last year we took so many frozen items that there was no room in the freezer for fish. Swore that we would not do that again. Wrong. We must have thought that our boat was turning into an arc as it appears that we purchased two of everything. Again , no room for fish. We now have a couple of weeks to eat enough freezer food to make room for all the fine fish that we intend to catch. Costco graciously offered us the use of a Brinks truck that we might safely get our items back to the boat, but we declined.

Left Port Sidney noonish of Saturday the 17th, and poked our way to Nanaimo, timing Dodds Narrows for the flat. Dropped the pick along side Newcastle Island for the night. Next AM we pointed ourselves (and the boat) towards Campbell River. Now this is up the Strait of Georgia and Bonnie could tell a yarn or two about that little piece of water, but this trip was uneventful. Flat water and sunshine all the way. Twiddled our thumbs at Cape Mudge for an hour, waiting for the water to settle down a bit, before going into Campbell River. A lot of water tries to squeeze itself into a rather small channel, in its desperate attempt to head back to the Pacific, then changes its mind and reverses the process. Does this twice a day. Decisions, decisions, decisions. This passage is called Discovery Channel and carries you all the way to the other end of town. Campbell River that is. It then turns into Seymour Narrows. Now this nasty little piece of water can hurl itself through there at 16 knots on a big tide. No place for boats or people. Very prudent to wait for slack tide and current and thus avoid the whirlpools and other forms of cranky water. Now add to this, a lumping big stone parked in the middle of the channel, just below the surface. In the "old days" said stone used to delight in ripping the bottom off unsuspecting vessels, until man tunneled under the water and stuffed the hole with dynamite. In its day was the biggest non nuclear explosion and no more stone. Didn’t time this one too well, so overnighted in Gowland Harbour, across from Campbell River.

The morning of the 19th saw heavy cloud cover accompanied by frequent rains, but the trip through Seymour was perfect. Trundled our way up Johnstone Strait with a destination of Port Neville. We had made plans to meet our good friends Art and Janice there and not only that, but a fine meal was already prepared for our arrival. They had spent several days trying to catch the elusive fishy, but were not having much luck. After a libation or two, Art and I convinced ourselves that we were at least as smart as most fish and if indeed there were fish about, we would have them boated. Oh well, had a great time.

Will keep this posted with new and wonderful events as they transpire. Take care of yourselves.
T