Great Bear Rainforest (Part 6)

The next morning we were met by representatives of the Gitga'at First Nation, landed our zodiacs, and walked a short distance inland on Gribbell Island accompanied by guides Derek, Marvin, and Richard.

We were headed for an observation stand alongside a creek that is a favorite haunt of the spirit bears, as well as our first visitor, the regular black bear.

He wasn't too concerned about us.

Soon a spirit bear came long, snagged a salmon, and enjoyed his snack.

After scouting the creek for more, he headed upstream on the far bank.

Time melted away except for the softly increasing light. If you are there for two or three hours, what's the point in watching the clock? If your feet got tired, you could sit down for a moment, but you might miss something. Hermit thrushes, for instance. Fruit bars were passed around to pacify the stomach. We were able to ease up and put our attention at wide-angle, yet always ready to snap back. Sometimes the spirit bear is far away,

and sometimes he is close. Always take your binoculars.

Eventually the time came to rejoin the Island Roamer. That afternoon there were two humpback whales logging, sleeping on the surface with an occasional puff of breath. Ian killed the engine and we drifted with them.

Then they awoke and dove, leaving us thinking that, if they didn't swim too far away underwater, perhaps we would get to see a tail fluke. The pair breached (jumped completely out of the water) just a couple of boat lengths away. We were in awe. I was stunned and did not get a photo of them in the air, but look at the size and closeness of the dive splash ...

We tied up at Hartley Bay for the night, and to take on fresh water. Hartley Bay town is the major Gitga'at settlement, and has no roads, only boardwalks. Here's a picture of the church.

Joan and I took the boardwalk up the stream that flows into the bay; first stop, the fish hatchery.

Half an hour or so up the boardwalk is a small, shallow lake. Just before you reach the lake there is a shoe tree. Is it a home for lost soles, or a way of keeping your roots firmly planted at home?

When we returned to the Island Roamer, it was dinner time. Kate always put on delicious, imaginative spreads, despite the hobbit-sized galley.

What a day!

Great Bear Rainforest (Part 5)

By the afternoon it had started to rain (temperate rain forest) and we visited Butedale, an abandoned canning town that had been self-sufficient for electricity, with turbines powered by the waters coming down the mountain. Or, in a manner of speaking, Butedale visited us in the person of Lou, the caretaker, who among his other inventions generates a bit of electricity for himself by attaching auto alternators to the old turbine shafts (the turbines are long gone.) Lou came aboard for coffee and muffins and a good long chat.

The current owner of Butedale is holding out for a high price, so Lou will be there for at least another year. Occasionally boats anchor there (it's a great harbor) amidst the battered town, as these photos taken on our departure, when the rain let up, show.

Some time later, Captain Ian began steering the Island Roamer up to the edge of the channel, towards one of the many waterfalls.

Sherry takes a shower for the team.

We anchored for the night in Bishop Bay, site of a well-known hot spring. Half our group decided to don bathing suits under their rain gear for the short zodiac trip to the landing; half (including Joan and me) came in a second wave to check out the spring without actually getting into it. A brief boardwalk climb away, a stone building collected the output of the spring into a steamy pool. Decor was classic fishing tackle, and the inhabitants seemed happy. Another time, in daylight and without rain, I might try it. That night, I was content with my decision. Tomorrow a big day loomed -- watching for spirit bears up close at one of the best sites in British Columbia.

Great Bear Rainforest (Part 4)

After the morning's grizzly watching we sailed out of Mussel Estuary, and soon passed some Steller sea lions and elephant seals basking on a rock.

We cruised by Swanson's Bay, an abandoned and now mostly overgrown lumbering town. The BC coast has a number of defunct lumbering and canning towns that thrived before resource depletion set in, and before the timber industry learned to hide the worst of its clear-cutting.

There followed a spectacular afternoon of cruising, visiting waterfalls and pictographs, and we reached our anchorage in Khutze Inlet, near the mouth of the Khutze Estuary. The zodiac cruise departed as the sun grew low in the sky, and fog began to gently settle above the water.

 

Scrambling up the bank with the help of the crew, we set out on a nature walk to see the plants and terrain of the estuary. (We weren't wishing for a bear this time.) After beating through bushes and walking through calf-high water, we emerged on a meadow where the naturalists gave us learned discourse on the trees, grasses, and berries in that environment. By the time we got back into the zodiacs it was dark. Jupiter was rising above the mountains to the southeast, and the Milky Way was visible, which always results in slack-jawed wonder among us suburban types. Captain Ian seemed to know where he was going, even though the fog had thickened. At last, we saw the masts of the Island Roamer poking up out of the fog and we descended upon Kate and another scrumptious dinner.

The next morning we departed before the fog had completed lifted. Looking back, we were treated to a fog-bow.

A bear was spotted, headed downstream along the bar. He/she crossed over a small tributary and began foraging, bending branches to get at the berries, digging for tasty roots, and generally ignoring us. The photographers went wild. After a while, we went slightly further up the bar and landed. We found the bear's pawprints in the sand.

And we continued to watch the bear. Those of us with telephoto lenses continued to snap the bear.

 We explored the bar, upstream, away from the bear's dinner table. Here yours truly provides scale for some of the large items washed down.

I loved the appearance of some of the algae-colored rocks exposed by the low tide. 

As we returned to the zodiacs, bald eagles circled overhead, gaining altitude to cross over the mountains to the next inlet, and Ian hurried to take a cast of the bear's paw prints before the rising tide took them away.

The casts were guarded by Sherry as we zodiacked back to the boat. They made an impressive display in the salon. I wish I had put a ruler next to them for scale -- darn!