More sun — less fish

The AM at Forward Harbour brought, of all things — SUNSHINE!!! Did not realize just how much I was taking on an albino appearance. With my ultra blond summer hair and the occasional pinkish morning eyes, topped off with my un-tanned skin and there you have it. As we slowly made our way down Cordero Channel we tried fishing in what appeared to be probable “good fishing areas” as we wanted to be somewhat prepared when , Angie and our grand-boys arrived in Campbell River. Not a fish in sight but we have a new sunny day and we  did notice some boating action at the north end of Sonora Island, and so, discretely slipped into the pattern of the other boats we methodically plodded around in large circles while trying all the appropriate gear in the tackle box. No fish — and as we kept closer tabs on the surrounding boats we noticed — no fish. But we did pass the day away in glorious sunshine. Make our way to Cameleon Harbour and drop the pick to await another dawn. A new day and guess what — more sun. This is getting unreal as we have definitely not been accustomed to this situation. Invigorated, we motor down to the junction of Nodales Channel and Discovery Passage to work an area where there are certain to be fine salmon, just waiting for the catching. Wrong, they are still waiting for the catching and we must be off to Cambell River to provision for the arrival of the family.

Good thing that we had allowed an extra day for some leisurely provisioning and boat clean-up as due to some rather crappy weather in the Bellingham area, Chad and Angie decided to join us a day earlier than originally expected. Hey, two thumbs up, — more time with the grand kids don’t you know. They all arrive in good order, albeit late in the day. We are in good shape for the following day, and the start of a new adventure. A new sunny day, but we are a bit late for the early slack at Seymour Narrows, and a bit early for the late slack, but we manage to kill a little time until we can make our way in a northerly direction once again. Back to Cameleon Harbour once again, but boy will we be ready for the fish on the morrow. Well you know, we were certainly ready, but someone forgot to inform the fish as we dutifully drowned bait in a blazing sun, as we wiled away the hours. Down Nodales and up Cordero we drowned bait, and not a sniff of a fish. Three small faces with big expectations — and no fish. However, as we near Bickley Bay, our intended destination for the day, we determine that perhaps a bottom fish or two will help to redeem ourselves, and so with a change of gear we proceed to impress the troops. In short order, ’s line indicates a fishy type activity and the boys were called to share the momentous occasion of boating a fish. But no – the fish-gods are still giving us the finger, as when the fish was skillfully brought to the surface, it turned into a dogfish. Exciting, but not tasty, and even though we changed location several times, dogfish was the “catch of the day”. Oh yum!, but fortunately we still have provisions for a group of forty or more. We shall not starve.

Another glorious morning, which we must appreciate, as it is all we have to offer, fishing being what it is. If nothing else we are determined, as we dutifully fish the shoreline of Nodales once-again, and yes — persistence can pay off, for just as we were about to pull our lines in and change locations once again, was blessed with an actual strike, by an actual fish. A small spring, but a salmon none the less. Big time excitement and it all seems worth while. Not the end of our fishing, but all we can show for our catching – unless you count more dogfish — which we won’t. I have never seen so many dogfish. Started to look up recipes for shark-fin soup. But that will have to wait. Won’t bore you with the details of our remaining days of non-catching nor will I yet-again mention the wonderful sunny, cloudless days, but all this hot weather has warmed some of the coves and small bays, to where it was possible to swim, and indeed this was taken advantage of by Chad and the boys.

Once again time has flashed by and it is time for us to part. With assurances that we will persevere and not only locate the preferred fishing areas, but also the time of the runs of salmon. Our next visit will be in Redmond, and we already look forward to that.

More to follow ——

Warden One

The word of the day is “storm warnings” all up and down the coast. Seas to five metres and winds 50 to 55 kts. Not only is it the word of the day, but the next several days.

Taking advantage of some flat water in Chatham Sound prior to the storm, we leave Prince Rupert and make our way south. No storm ,but heavy rains. First night Klewnuggit, second night Khutze. Next day we cross Jackson Passage to Matheson Channel and down to Reid passage, still trying to keep ahead of the northwest winds and even uglier weather. Now as we have had nearly constant rains for most of the summer and this trip southward, my windshield wiper, at the helm window, decided to go on strike. This would take place as we approached the south end of Matheson, which is a rock strewn jumble of hazards, awaiting to do injury to unsuspecting boats destined for Reids passage. At about this time, my Nobletech decided to go into slow motion. As this would show my vessel position moving along where we had been, not where we were at present, it made for tight sphincters and a nervous, actually very nervous, Admiral. Employing the age old skill of dead reckoning, we made our way into Port Blackney, and threw the hook.

The following day brought some periods of lighter rain, which allowed me to take the wiper assembly from the galley window and exchange it with the totally non-working helm unit, and voila, our ability to see is restored. Add to this the fact that after re-booting the helm computer, and threatening it with a booting of a more physical nature, our Nobletech decided to give us back our navigation system. Had the spare system loaded on the laptop, and paper charts as stand-by, but is nice to have things work that are supposed to work. Bonnie looks to me in the same fashion.

On to Codville Lagoon and an extra day of just doing nothing. Not only that, but we have had the occasional glimpse of blue sky, less rain and varied winds. Things are looking up.

A better report for the Nor’wester and we make our way down Fitz Hugh Sound, to Frypan Bay, which we had to ourselves. Woke up to sunny skies and flat water in Frypan, and as our weather report was not well received in the Bay, we ventured out into open spaces with the intention of possibly taking a stab at Queen Charlotte Sound. Not to be as the dreaded swells were still coming in from the Sound, and the Admiral made the seniority decision that some time in Fury Cove, where we could watch the outer water from our anchorage, would be prudent. Good decision, as the next AM brought glass smooth water with a low westerly swell. Time to go.

A great crossing, although admiral Bonnie would have preferred no swell at all,  and we carried on down to Port McNeill. As it was late in the day, we were not able to get moorage so, once again dropped anchor in the harbour. Got good slip space the following morning allowing for a few provisions and some water. This in case we wished to shower again at some point. The need becomes apparent when Bonnie and I keep trying to “up-wind” ourselves from each other.

With tears in my eyes, we make our way over to the fuel dock and a top-up of diesel. Just about to the point where it would be cheaper to burn whiskey, but then one would run the risk of fighting with the engines for an appropriate share. I have found that if I keep the engine RPM’s under thirteen hundred, the fuel economy is not actually that bad, and gives us about 7.5 knots. It is in this proud fashion that we head towards Johnstone Strait. We are on flat water, but the forecast is for the perpetual gale warnings for the Strait. Some time it will actually happen and catch a bunch of boats unprepared for rough water.

As we neared Robson Bight we moved to the mainland side of the strait, as the Orcas like to frolic in the Bight, and scrape their bellies on the gravel beach. Because of this activity, the area has become a whale-watchers haven. Unfortunately it has also become a haven for “granolies” for as we made our way southward an inflatable boat approached us at a fairly high rate of speed. In the boat was a member of the” KGB whale saving society” who we were to find out was known as Warden One. As she approached our vessel she commenced to flap her arms in what appeared to be an attempt at becoming airborne. I quickly calculated that, given her body mass, (we ain’t talking no tiny Warden One here) her arms would need to be in the range of forty feet across, and thus assumed that she actually wanted us to stop. Now having been informed by Bonnie that I should just stay where I was, ”as I can be ignorant”, and she would handle the situation at hand. Warden One meets Admiral One.!!! Now after assuring us that she was just doing her job, we received a lecture about going too fast in a whale watching area and that we should keep our speed to 7 knots. Now this is a most discerning eye on Warden One, as when I once again brought us up to thirteen hundred RPM, we were doing 7.6 knots. However, I suspect that there may well be some tax payer funding involved here, and in order to build the bureaucracy an ever increasing quota of nasty perpetrators must be apprehended and scolded. Next year we may well have a Warden Two and Three as well. Plus I suspect that there may have been something of a personal motive involved with the protection of the whale as there was a bit of a family resemblance involved with the Orcas and Warden One. Oh well, I am certain that at the end of the day Warden One sleeps well with the thought that the world is a much better place because of her. Actually, Warden One does not realize just how close she  came to “poking the bear” during her discussion with Admiral One.

Winds are once again building as we make our way to Forward Harbour and our next anchorage.

Look after yourselves and enjoy each day.

The Summer that wasn’t

Time for an update from the summer that wasn’t. Todd, Kristen, Kayla and Matthew arrived from New York as scheduled. Flew the distance in one day, so was a long trip, plus a 5 hour layover in Vancouver. As a special treat the weather tried to co-operate by giving out fleeting glimpses on sunshine — a rare sight this year. It seems that it went directly from June-uary to November, and we now have cool days with much horizontal rain and, of course, frequent storms. But once again I get ahead of myself. 🙂

The weather is not the only item difficult to predict, there is also the location of the fish which has been, to say the least, very erratic. We strike out for the area which has shown a degree of dependability for us, and offers areas of good moorage, should a storm rear its ugly head. The north end of DundasIsland gives us both, as Brundidge Inlet offers excellent holding when at anchor. Unfortunately, it also offers a type of black fly that is actually a set of sharp teeth and a pair of wings. As a special bonus they come in large quantities, and I am certain that they can chew their way into a sealed boat when they are in a feeding frenzy. Now, I suspect, that in an effort to lure these carnivores away from her grand babies, Granny offered herself as a sacrifice, with the result of some rather nasty welts. Her year to look as though she was the loser in a bar brawl. Not to paint this picture all in the negative, we did get into a rather good bite of nice size cohos, which put something of a smile on Todd’s face. 🙂 Rather than face another opportunity of feeding the flying teeth, we struck out for the Moffats, and God”s pocket. On the way we decided to drop the prawn traps for a succulent feed of the little critters.

As we now had a good catch of salmon on ice, we decided to set our sights on some fresh halibut. Now as halibut have been the only dependable thing this season, that we should get our limit is pretty much a given — wrong !!! Just when I was starting to get pretty cocky about getting these “flat fish” at will, they up and disappeared. Possibly just to teach me a little humility.  We offered them some of the most delectable fishy type snacks known to man, and couldn’t get a sniff. We caught red snapper, caught lingcod, caught rock fish galore, but not one ugly halibut. Plus we tried the above at all the spots where we had previously caught halibut over the past two years. Some things are just not meant to be. Oh yes, our prawn pull yielded us a much better catch of starfish than it did prawns, and as their were no commercial prawners in the vicinity for Bonnie to exhibit her prawning skills, we opted to move the traps to a different location. It was a good thing that we did, as when we pulled this set, we not only had a bountiful two prawns, but one of the largest Pacific octopuses I have encountered. 🙂 It would have reached about eight feet from toe to toe and yet had managed to squeeze into the prawn trap through it’s three inch opening. While in there, he unscrewed the bait container and had a snack, but courteously left the container and lid. Now as the trap has little gates which fall down on the inside, he no longer had the little three inch opening to leave by and was in the process of building a new exit by tearing a hole in the net cover of the trap. This is when we brought him aboard and watched as he squeezed himself out of his newly created opening. Getting a fairly large octopus aboard the boat is one thing, getting him to leave is totally another. Worse than a landlord trying to evict a nasty tenant, or so it seems. I was about to get out my cookbook of Chinese cooking delights when we managed to entice our unwanted guest into the landing net, and then back into the water. So much for prawns.

As we continued our pursuit for the wily halibut, in the open, bouncy water south of Melville Island, we noticed a Humpback whale in the distance, trying to out do us in the fishing department no doubt. Apparently we elicited a degree of curiosity in the brute, for as we started to leave the area empty handed he surfaced about twenty feet abeam our starboard side. Now I can tell you that this is somewhat impressive, and as he dove back down we could even see vegetation hanging on his tail fluke. Another Kodak moment in trade of poor fishing. Unfortunately it is hard to think “picture” when your mouth is open in awe and your mind is in neutral.

A few more salmon for good measure, including a nice Spring, and we are off to Tuck Inlet for, hopefully, a feed of crab. As luck would have it, this came through for us as, on the pull, we had twenty – eight crab in the trap. Kept eleven of the biggest and sent the rest back for the next time.

Don’t have to like it but time is up and the family is off  to New Jersey. Time for us to prep the boat and point ourselves Southward in search of some sunshine — hopefully.

More to follow.