Great Bear Rainforest (Part 8)

The first order of business the next day was Sherry's lesson in gumboot dancing. This is a type of dancing invented by South African miners, forbidden most forms and tools of self-expression, who used the rubber boots worn in the flooded gold mines as percussive musical instruments. Yours truly mastered the first of Sherry's three or four steps of increasing complexity though constant repetition, but regardless of skill level, we all had fun. Here Kate and Mary continue their practice.

Landing on our next beach we came across two grounded and deceased humboldt squid. They are sometimes found this far north when they are following an erratic warm current, but they inevitably die when the warm current disappears.

A short distance inland was an abandoned First Nations house, probably ceremonial but possibly residential. We had permission to visit the site with a few common sense restrictions, such as to limit ourselves to standing on the edge of the structure, and not to enter or cross it.

The posts had evolved a fascinating blend of texture and color out of layering, moisture, plant life, and time.

A short distance from the old house was a beach on the other side of the spit of land. This was obviously the side that accumulated windblown logs.

We spent quite a while on the beach, especially on the mud flats where we birdwatched and inspected all manner of small critters.

Sailing on, we encountered a squad of porpoises, or rather, they decided to check us out. They're fast and hard to get into a photo.

The weather gods smiled on Captain Ian (no sacrifices were made that I know of), and he was able to turn off the motor and cruise down Laredo Sound and Hecate Strait under sail power alone. The Island Roamer reached speeds as high as 7 knots, good for a passenger boat. Everybody basked in the sun and the breeze, although the swells might have caused some to reach for their Bonine.

We anchored behind Day Point Island and sadly began to pack our bags for the next day, departure day. But what a sunrise the next morning; it was an thrilling conclusion to an inspiring trip.

Tom stands by the mast in awe of the sun.

You can see the end of our journey in the distance. Goodbye, Great Bear Rainforest, and thank you very much.

Great Bear Rainforest (Part 7)

The next day started with an oscillating drizzle -- sometimes light, sometimes moderate. (It's a temperate rainforest, yes? Don't complain, sailor, just put on your raingear.) After pulling out from Hartley Bay the Island Roamer soon reached the southern end of Gil Island and the private research station, Cetacealab. We were treated to a presentation by Herman, and learned about their hydrophone-based research into resident and transient orca pods, orca calls, and the three dialect groups among the resident pods in that area. I highly recommend checking out the web site. Here's a snapshot of Hermann in the shadows behind Joan, along with Candy and Frieda (in the camo outfit).

Given that the rain was continuing, plan B was invoked (good trip leaders always have a plan B, and usually a plan C), and so the afternoon was spent in Barnard Harbor, close by to Gil Island, feasting our eyes on humpbacks that were breaching, tail slapping, and even occasionally spy-hopping. Seals frolicked among the whales without much concern for being smacked by an errant tail or flipper. (Apologies that some photos were taken through a rain-swept plastic screen. I'm a wimp when it comes to hauling the camera out in foul weather!)

 

 

Barnard Harbor is also home to the King Pacific Lodge, a floating luxury resort, which we admired from a distance.

The humpbacks seemed to love Barnard Harbor. As we departed we had two escorts close by the port side of the boat!

The rain diminished and the clouds began to disperse as we made our way down to Chapple Inlet to anchor for the night. The scenery had metamorphosed by the time we reached the inlet.

All hands on deck for the sunset, dinner will have to wait ...