Central Coast Cruise – July 14-30, 2014
The distance between White Rock, where Bruce and Debbie of Red Current and Rosa and I of Port Nut live, and Bella Coola, where we would be launching our little boats, is vast. It was never our intention to get there quickly, but instead, to stop over at the Bridge Lake cabin for a night’s rest. In the case of the Port Nut, she was still being re-provisioned after having been on a cruise to Princess Louisa Inlet the previous month (June 22-26, 2014). But one night at Bridge Lake turned into another and then into three as the weather was spectacular and the boating and swimming was too fabulous to resist. Bella Whoola, Bruce asked?
Sensing the time was right, we set off on the long road to the coast – from Williams Lake to Bella Coola – through the wide expanse of the Chilcotin District of the Interior Plateau of British Columbia. At Nimpo Lake we stopped for fuel and stayed at the RV site there. The opportunity for a shower after a long, hot ride was a welcomed respite. It was hot enough to cause a “mantrum.” As we made our first repairs to the boats and prepared dinner, we were treated to a stunning Chilcotin sunset. We were now near the edge of the continent and the Coastal Mountains formed a serrated western horizon behind which the sun set with such drama. These first repairs were necessitated by the gruelling road (which pioneers would have delighted at) that us city folk with delicate equipment find a bit rough. The road needs mentioning because as we neared the Coastal Mountains, it grew progressively more rough and then suddenly plunged down to near sea-level by means of a precipitous, at times one-lane, track. It is called Highway 20, and arguably the most difficult of the three routes that reach the West Coast of Canada. For perhaps 100 miles the rattle and shake causes both damage to equipment and consternation to the occupants. It’s best not to hurry.
The people of Bella Coola, (First Nations and European pioneers) had long been isolated from the rest of the continent by the nearly impenetrable mountains that border the sea. A trail existed from long ago, but could accommodate only pack animals or those on foot. Even to get out via the Burke Channel was an ordeal, for that long waterway is often beset by strong winds. In summer, they are inflow winds while in winter, outflow winds compete with frequent Pacific storms. In the 1950s, the local residents resolved to solve that “little” problem by building a road; the Freedom Road they call it. The logging people toiled to build a most difficult path, but one that now gives them access to Williams Lake located on Highway 97 and provides a route to bring in supplies as well as tourists - us among them. Of course, the Red Tape of present day would not have permitted such an undertaking, but in the early 1950s, the people were more independent and determined than they are today.
Andrew Scott, author of Encyclopedia of Raincoast Place Names describes Bella Coola: “Heiltsuk First Nation name for the aboriginal inhabitants of the area, who call themselves the Nuxalk people after their term for the Bella Coola valley. The name appears as Billichoola in the 1834 journal of HBC trader and medical officer William Fraser Tolmie, and it has also been recorded as Bellaghchoola, Bellichoola, Belhoola and Bi’lxula. The main village (Q’umquots) has long been located at the site of Bella Coola, near the mouth of the river. Alexander Mackenzie arrived at this spot in 1793 to become the first white person to cross North America north of Mexico, and he referred to the community as Rascal’s Village after surviving an altercation with local residents. Members of Capt. Vancouver’s expedition also arrived that year, from the sea. The HBC had a post here 1868-82, later purchased by its former manager, trader John Clayton. A colony of Norwegian settlers arrived in the valley in 1894 and farmed, while several salmon canneries operated on the waterfront. The community of Bella Coola, with a population of almost 1000 in the early 2000s, was not linked to the rest of BC by road until 1953.”
We arrived in Bella Coola at mid-afternoon under a scorching sun pegged to a clear blue sky above an aquamarine sea. Glacial melt water turns the sea a milky-blue and provides an upper layer of fresh water that makes it pleasant to swim in. So, once we had prepped the boats for the trip, we joined the twenty or so young natives in refreshing ourselves with a dip at the launch ramp. A few of the kids delighted in playing with our dinghy (the Nutella) as we lingered at the docks for the night. Next day we would get an early start with clear heads and, hopefully, calm water.
Generally, the inflow winds start up by 10 am, as the heating of the Interior causes a thermal gradient that draws cool marine air up the inlets to replace the rapidly-rising warm air inland. The sustained airflow generates a good chop on the water, especially in Burke Channel where, with its long reaches, there is a lengthy fetch. If this were to occur in opposition to an ebbing tide, then the chop could get dangerous. Luckily, we cruised to Eucott Bay in a dead calm, passing fishing boats tending their long nets and being entertained by dolphins as we passed Mesachie Nose. We arrived there in the early afternoon to marauding hordes of horse flies and deer flies. That afternoon, as the tide went out, a couple of bears were seen at the beach foraging in the inter-tidal zone for marine delicacies. Conscious of their presence, we rowed ashore to visit the hot springs and took a dip in the hot water which, although pleasant, washed off all the bug repellent that had been providing immunity from the nasty insects. The dip in the hot springs that evening was much more enjoyable, the horse flies having finally gone home. A couple of rotting pilings was all we saw of the remnants of an old commercial venture. “The origin of the name (Eucott Bay) is unknown, but it is home to well-known hot springs. In the 1930s cabins were available for $2 per week so that visitors, mostly Ocean Falls residents, could receive treatment for rheumatism, arthritis and lumbago. The attended baths cost 10 cents a session. The Miracle Mineral Water Co sold heavily mineralized spring water in Vancouver and Victoria for $1.50 a gallon and also tried to market mud from the site as a skin rejuvenator (Scott).”
The next day we moved on to Ocean Falls where the average annual rainfall is 4,386 mm (14.62 feet). This was once a thriving pulp mill town but today is all but abandoned. Several yachts were at the docks when we arrived there in the afternoon and began to get acquainted with other visitors and the locals. “Nearly-Normal” Norman Brown is on hand to greet the new arrivals and answer any questions they may have. Norm arrived in Ocean Falls in 1990 on a job to recover copper from the remains of homes that had been burned down when the town was abandoned. After two years, the job was done but something about the place caused him to put down roots. He bought a house in Martin Valley, one and a half miles down the road from Ocean Falls where he has lived ever since, part of the community of 20 or so permanent residents that remain. (In the summer, the population swells to over 100). Over the years, Norm has collected a large variety of items that cover the upstairs portion of the marine repair building owned by Herb Carpenter, the Harbourmaster. Herb and Norm took us on a tour of the building and "museum."
Herb entertained us with stories of how he came to land in Ocean Falls. Born in Oklahoma, he left home at 15 and moved to Alaska. There, he went to work in the fishing industry and eventually married the boss’ daughter. Many years later, they landed in Ocean Falls and noticed the awful state of the dock. It being a federal facility, he phoned to complain and was subsequently asked to take on the job of harbourmaster. He clearly prides himself at having wrested about half a million dollars out of the Feds to improve the facilities, the most recent contribution having come from”Canada’s Action Plan" a make-work program created during the most recent economic problems. Together with Norm, they have made it a reasonably good facility, certainly for these parts.
Ashore, one walks among the ghosts of the town. A large hotel and an apartment building stand with vacant windows and wooden houses are collapsing under the weight of the weather and years, while the old streets are mostly choked with growth. The once-mighty pulp mill is gone. The company that owned it, Crown Zellerbach, walked away after having planned its decommissioning and assisting families with relocation. The government of the day took over the town and its industry, but their stewardship was short-lived as the format did not dovetail with the doctrine of the ensuing free-enterprise government. The people were set adrift again, this time for good, and the town was left to be reclaimed by nature. The dam and powerhouse went into private hands and still supply electricity to Ocean Falls, Shearwater and Bella Bella. A fish hatchery sits on the industrial land, but these two concerns probably have only four workers between them on site and they don’t form part of the community as their living facilities are contained within the facilities. In fact, there are only a few jobs that I could count at Ocean Falls. There is the Postmaster and the Harbourmaster. Norman is the dockhand and another man comes from Martin Valley to collect moorage fees once or twice a day. A saloon exists with irregular hours in Martin Valley as does a small store. The store has moved from a small stand-alone building located at the sea-plane ramp to the bottom floor of the owner’s house. Norman says that there is a man who will sell gas and diesel and deliver it to the dock on request. A couple from Alberta bought the accommodation/restaurant facility in 2012 – The Darke Waters - and are trying to make it a success. (They gave us two trout for bait with which we caught two large Dungeness crabs that were cooked up that evening). Dinner at their restaurant, “Tuna’s”, was delicious and ample as Rosa and I celebrated birthdays together in the company of Bruce and Debbie.
With continuing sunny weather, we opted to cruise to Roscoe Inlet the next day. We were hoping to see the spectacular mountains in their full glory and, if the weather deteriorated, we would go visit the outer islands. And so it turned out: the weather was gorgeous as we cruised up. Humpback whales were sighted in Johnson Channel and, when we finally reached the end of Roscoe Inlet, the water was warm enough to swim. At least Bruce thought so. That evening, we ate our fill of crab while marvelling at the scenery. By morning, however, it was raining and the trip down was made under the gloomy low cloud and constant rain that epitomises the Rain Coast. Now, however, waterfalls were appearing where there was only bare rock the day before. The growing storm threw up a bit of chop as we re-crossed Johnson Channel and made our way via Troup Narrows into Discovery Cove (N 52 13.3' W 128 0.5') for the night. And what a night! It must have rained nearly three inches and the bilge pump on the Port Nut cycled on every five minutes.
Next morning, we had a surprise visit from Berman, a fellow boater that I had met at Egmont during the Princess Louisa Cruise. He too was amazed at the amount of rain that had fallen and reported on several leaks that had been revealed in his “Taiwan Trawler.” With wood decks, it is common for these boats to have leaks after a certain age. After checking his crab trap, he had noticed our boat and came over to say hello and show us his catch.
That day we cruised the short distance to Shearwater where we wanted to spend time near shopping, laundry and showers and fuel, while also checking out what Bella Bella looked like. On arrival, we were notified that there had been a huge gathering at Bella Bella and that their ATM was out of cash. As it turned out, we didn’t go to Bella Bella until the following day and so we missed all but the stragglers of the big event. We went there in a water taxi and walked around to see what there was to see. I bought a couple of souvenirs: a T-shirt for myself and a sticker for The Nut. Going into the grocery store, both there and at Shearwater, we immediately noticed higher prices than we were accustomed to. When Rosa told me the price of grapes at Shearwater, a nearby-shopper quipped “That’s cheap!” By the end of the trip we would be believers and would be cringing to have to pay $10.75 for a loaf of sliced bread, but at that moment it was still a novelty.
“Waglisla is Bella Bella’s new name since 1974 and is a Heiltsuk name meaning “estuary” or “river delta” and refers specifically to a creek mouth just south of the village. The main Heiltsuk community on Campbell Island has had several names and even changed location slightly, from McLoughlin Bay, where the HBC established a post, Fort McLoughlin, 1833-45, to its present site just to the north. The name Bella Bella embraces settlements on both sides of Lama Passage (Scott).”
Shearwater, on Denny Island, is the centre of commerce on the central coast. Besides fuel and moorage, there are several other amenities and services. The grocery store has been mentioned, but in addition, there is a laundromat with showers, a pub/restaurant, marine supply store, gift shop and further down the road, a boat repair yard and shop. There is also accommodation and guided fishing. We hiked down the road toward Old Bella Bella which is also on Denny Island. It was raining steadily and my feet got sore, so Rosa and I turned back while Bruce and Debbie persevered and got to walk around that (mostly) abandoned town. The Dept. of Fisheries and Oceans (DFO) has a facility there to accommodate their vessels and personnel. (One day, we heard over the radio a surveillance plane contacting a boat. The call related to something the vessel was discharging. Although we could not catch the full conversation, we now knew that surveillance on the central coast also includes aircraft).
We ultimately spent three nights at Shearwater as a “Gale Warning” was issued. In the end, the winds did not materialize within the channels nearby and we could have left a day sooner, but we were not without entertainment in the meantime. Next to us was the 120-foot Aurora that we had previously seen coming into Ocean Falls. Also next to us was the Elaine Mae with an older couple aboard and their adult son. These friendly folks were waiting for a part to arrive with which to make repairs and so were stuck there for a while. We were the recipients of their friendly dialogue and their generously-shared food: alder-smoked salmon, no less. Also at these docks, we met Jim and Karyn who were cruising on their 25-foot Ranger Tug: Stella. I had met them at Princess Louisa and they recognized the Port Nut and came over to visit. By radio, we also spoke with Captain Mac who orients new Ranger Tug owners to their vessels. He and his wife were on the 29-footer: Ocean Weaver? They reported having had a rough ride through Johnstone Strait and on rounding Cape Caution during their northbound leg. Up to 12 foot seas!
Shearwater was one of several flying boat stations along the coast during World War 2. (Jericho Beach, in Vancouver, was established in 1920, but when WW2 broke out, another five were added). The planes flew surveillance patrols over the ocean approaches. The base’s ramp and hangar form the marine repair facilities at Shearwater. During a walk ashore, we discovered the “Spirit Trail” which takes the hiker along a ridge where we saw long rolls of rusted barbed wire. This suggested that it was an observation point. Partly hidden by the undergrowth are also cement platforms, but what their origins were, we did not discover. The base would have been quite a hub of activity during the war years, and the archipelago we travelled to next reflected that era’s military focus. “The Spider Group is filled with names like Hurricane, Mosquito, Kittyhawk and Spitfire. Henri Parizeau, the regional hydrographer in 1944, assigned these warplane names. The original inspiration was the presence of Spider Island, and the fact that Anthony Fokker’s first airplane, built in 1910, was named the Spin (Dutch for ‘spider’) on account of its many wires (Scott).”
“The name Shearwater refers to HMS Shearwater launched in 1900 in England. She spent most of her working life based at Esquimalt as part of the Pacific Station. The RN phased out the Pacific Squadron at the start of WW1 and the vessel was transferred to the RCN in 1914 and re-commissioned the HMCS Shearwater. Two of its guns were removed and used as a shore battery to defend Seymour Narrows (near Campbell River). She served as a tender to two submarines which the BC government, in a fit of nerves, had acquired from the US in 1914. In 1917, the tender escorted its charges through the Panama Canal to Halifax and spent the rest of the war as a support vessel on the Atlantic coast. The name Shearwater was assigned to a naval air base in Halifax but also became associated with the non-native part of Bella Bella, site of the WW2 flying boat station (Scott).”
Cruising to the outer islands of the Spider group offers a very different flavour compared to the fjords of the mainland coast. Here, the landscape is lower and composed of islands and rocks without count that are covered by wind-stunted trees. The narrow channels are picturesque and offer peek-a-boo views out to the endless sea. Well, it eventually does end but not until one reaches Asia. Here and there, a sandy beach provides an opportunity to walk ashore and explore. One such is Kayak Beach (N 51 53.8' W 128 14'), a favourite of kayakers because it provides a calm and sandy place to land their boats while, ashore, there are perhaps six tent sites and a fresh-water supply. After picking up a few shells, we headed into Bomb-Proof Anchorage (N 51 55.9' W 128 14.3') for the night. There, tucked into a small cove and rafted together with an anchor out front and two tethers to shore, we spent a peaceful night away from the bustle of Shearwater. The weather was improving and, by the next morning, it seemed even better. It should be noted that some of these names are not to be found on the nautical charts, but are, instead, those given by cruising authorities such as Douglass (Cruising the North Coast of British Columbia), Hale (Waggoner Guide) or Hamilton (Cruising the Secret Coast).
That day saw us cruise out of protected waters for the first time as we entered Kildidt Sound for a short while before tucking into Beasley Passage. The gentle swells of one metre every six seconds were fun to experience. Shortly after, we crossed Hakai Passage and there, felt swells of up to two metres which offered a more dramatic experience. Red Current would all but disappear behind one of the larger swells, although their vessel was a mere cable’s length away (a cable is about 600 feet). Although there was no wind during the crossing, it did come up later on as we lay at anchor near Pruth Bay. After our visit to West Beach, we relocated the vessels closer to the docks at Tthe Hakai Beach Institute. "The Hakai Beach Institute (HBI) is a scientific research, teaching and meeting center established by Eric Peterson and Christina Munck on Calvert Island, a remote island on the exposed Pacific edge of the Great Bear Rainforest on the Central Coast of British Columbia, Canada. HBI is a program of the Tula Foundation, a British Columbia-based private foundation also founded by Peterson and Munck. HBI specializes in "Long Term Ecolological Research". It has active research programs in archaeology, earth sciences, terrestrial ecology and marine ecology. HBI enjoys partnerships with neighbouring First Nations, local schools, government agencies and the BC universities (Wikipedia)." The Institute welcomes boaters to tie dinghies at their dock and walk through the property to West Beach. This was a beautiful setting to visit. At anchor, we were visited by the McNabs who were also anchored in the bay in Chanter. We had met them originally in the Broughtons in 2011 and have encountered them a couple of more times since. They live on Pender Island.
After the night at Pruth Bay, we cruised across Fitzhugh Sound and into Green Island Anchorage. There, an overgrown midden site presides over a secluded anchorage surrounded by tree-covered islands. Low cloud shrouded the island tops and obscured Calvert Island where we had just come from. Rain fell. The next day, we weighed anchor for Dawson’s Landing where we would re-fuel and re-provision (bread: $10.75 per loaf). Fuel, showers, food . . . everything seems expensive at Dawson’s Landing but we recognize that it is extremely difficult to make a living wherever the numbers of boaters are few. Dawson’s Landing has been around a long time, certainly in the same family since 1954. While we were there, a crew of “timber cruisers” was staying at one of the rental cabins. Sharply at 0800, they headed out to their jobs. From the looks of the pitted planks on the docks, logging people have been visiting this facility for many years and wearing their cork boots.
Next door, so to speak, is also a DFO facility which was established here long ago. Aloft, the sun was shining now and we were entertained by a sequence of other boaters who seemed very willing to spend time chatting. One boat had just arrived from Kitimat (where I lived many years ago) after a day’s run. It turned out that the skipper knows my cousin, Frankie, as well as several other acquaintances there. Ashore, a mother bear with two cubs came out of the underbrush to stare at the curious creatures that inhabit the noisy human world. Bruce thought it was a grizzly sow, but I firmly assured him that it was a rust-coloured black bear. I took several photos then as well as a bit later when I spotted the mother and cubs again. Much later, when the photos were reviewed and enlarged, it was fairly clear that she was indeed a grizzly. That certainly makes for a more interesting story, since black bear sightings are all too commonplace here.
We spent a pleasant night at Dawson’s and, early in the morning, began to hear boats leaving the dock. Our friend from Kitimat was rounding Cape Caution southbound that day and wanted to be there early while it was calm. Our own day was going to be more casual as we were merely planning to cruise down Rivers Inlet to Goose Bay. Enroute, we stopped at Duncanby Landing where we made reservations for dinner. While watching the goings-on among the wealthy fishers of salmon and halibut, Rosa spotted one of the guides filleting a halibut. She went to ask whether she could have the trimmings for crab bait and what she got was a carcass with enough meat left on it to feed us the next night with delicious halibut in quantities that we could not easily afford back home. Debbie estimated that we ate about $100 worth if bought at our local grocer. Dinner at Duncanby was delicious too and quite reasonably priced.
“James Graham built a wharf, store and fuel station at this spot about 1936 . . . They had wanted to call the location Duncan Bay but, as the name was already in use, settled instead for Duncanby Landing. Graham and his wife added a restaurant and persuaded Union Steamships to stop at their popular landing selling out in 1972 (Scott).”
“New owners bought Duncanby in spring 2005, and they transformed it from a rustic, rough and tumble wilderness stopover to a high-quality destination fly-in fishing resort. Gone are the commercial boats. Gone are the boys from around the inlet who hung out in the bar. The old houses . . . have been replaced with solid new quarters for the fly-in guests (Waggoner).”
Anchored in near-by Goose Bay, we caught two more crabs that night and cooked them for the following day. That day saw us cruising north to Kwakume Inlet. It is a beautiful setting with some chop coming into the bay from the NW wind that had come up as the afternoon progressed. We left the inlet at 10-ish the next morning but not before the Port Nut had undergone a minor repair. Doing an engine check that morning, we noticed that the water pump belt was hanging on by a thread. After half an hour of grunting (for I had consumed a healthy breakfast) we were underway and were soon out in a two-foot chop. There is a stretch of Fitzhugh Sound with no protection from Hakai Pass rollers and so it was a bit rough as we cruised northward. The BC Ferries’ Northern Expedition came up on our stern and we hailed her to request they notify our family aboard that we were off their starboard side. We were unable to train our binoculars on them to see any detail so did not know until two days later (by text message) that the seven of them had indeed seen us and waved with great enthusiasm.
We then entered the bay at the Koeye River estuary but did not land on account of the chop and lack of a dock. There is a beautiful beach in the bay and, ashore, a collection of buildings. “This Heiltsuk term is believed to mean “bird sitting on the water.” The 18,750 hectare Koeye Conservancy, an intact old-growth rainforest watershed with some of BC’s most productive salmon and grizzly bear habitat, represents an important aspect of the lands protected by the historic 2006 central coast land-use decision. The Koeye people, a branch of the Heiltsuk, formerly occupied several village sites on this river. An ecotourism lodge is now located at its mouth. About 1.5km upstream is the remains of a limestone quarry, which operated 1935-67 (Scott).” Sounds like a good place to visit the next time.
Continuing on we passed by Namu but, again, did not land. This was the spot when, on May 26,1793, Vancouver's Expedition re-started the exploration of the coast. How sad it was to see this old cannery facility collapsing in on itself. A ship, the Chilcotin Princess, was tied to the docks and listing badly. It is disappointing that our governments just allow companies (BC Packers bought the property in 1912) to walk away from such large amounts of debris once the resource has been exhausted. “Namu, is the Heiltsuk First Nation name meaning “place of high winds,” referring especially to the SE blasts that sweep over the Namu Range and give nearby Whirlwind Bay its name. Archeological excavations have revealed that Namu was used by aboriginal people as a habitation site, at least seasonally, for 11,000 years or more and is thus one of the longest continually occupied places in Canada. In 1893, Robert Draney built a cannery at this spot and added a sawmill in 1911. The cannery was rebuilt and changed hands several times, eventually becoming one of the largest and most efficient fish-processing complexes on the BC coast (Scott).” Unfortunately, the last inhabitants recently moved away and so one would guess that the continuous occupation has come to an end. We anchored around the corner at Fougner Bay for the night and slept very well after a celebratory drink or two. Our short visit to the Central Coast was nearly at an end and we were cherishing the highlights of that which we had sampled.
“Fougner Bay is named for Iver Fougner (1870-1947) born at Lillehammer, Norway, who immigrated to Minnesota and worked as a teacher before joining the first group of Norwegians to settle in the Bella Coola valley in 1894. Articulate and intelligent, he served as the group’s secretary and as a member of its managing committee. He was also the settlement’s first schoolteacher. His writings are an important source of information about the colony. In 1901 he became the first person to receive a teacher’s certificate at the old Vancouver Normal School; in 1909 he was named Indian agent for the Bella Coola region (Scott).”
The trip up Burke Channel is best started as early in the morning as possible. By 0600 hours we were enroute and at 0650, the log reads that three Humpback whales were spotted off our starboard side. We like to think that it was Mom, Dad and Baby Humpback as one of them was certainly a juvenile. We stopped at Cathedral Point (about half-way) for lunch. By the time we weighed anchor at 1130, the wind was up and a light chop was starting. This got gradually worse and the long reaches of the Channel were still to be traversed. By the time we neared the forks to Labouchere and Bentinck Arms, we were surfing a three-foot chop. The local dolphins were having fun with our boats, riding the bow waves and flashing underneath our hulls from one side to the other. We got many photos of splashes in the water, which is about all that can be expected. They are so fast.
Arriving at Bella Coola at 1510, we had ample time to retrieve the boats and prep them for the road. We made two stops to readjust the trim on the trailers as the bumpy road made it extremely rough to tow. Our stop for the night was at a campground in Tweedsmuir Park where we met a couple from Belgium/France who were planning to buy a wooden boat to cruise the coast. Independently, both couples wished them well and encouraged them to do their boating now while they are young and energetic. Not surprisingly, after reaching the Bridge Lake cabin, I spent the best part of two days unloading and cleaning the boat. I climbed on and off the trailer and boat unit so many times that I lost count. By the end of each day, I went to bed exhausted.
Washing and cleaning the Port Nut marked the end of the cruise of 2014. She has taken us on another fabulous adventure and we feel enriched by the experiences we had. The boat was very dependable and kept us comfortable throughout. Well, as comfortable as the limited space allows for, and knowing its limitations, I stay away from visiting other boats lest I catch that dreaded virus: fourfootitis.
Sensing the time was right, we set off on the long road to the coast – from Williams Lake to Bella Coola – through the wide expanse of the Chilcotin District of the Interior Plateau of British Columbia. At Nimpo Lake we stopped for fuel and stayed at the RV site there. The opportunity for a shower after a long, hot ride was a welcomed respite. It was hot enough to cause a “mantrum.” As we made our first repairs to the boats and prepared dinner, we were treated to a stunning Chilcotin sunset. We were now near the edge of the continent and the Coastal Mountains formed a serrated western horizon behind which the sun set with such drama. These first repairs were necessitated by the gruelling road (which pioneers would have delighted at) that us city folk with delicate equipment find a bit rough. The road needs mentioning because as we neared the Coastal Mountains, it grew progressively more rough and then suddenly plunged down to near sea-level by means of a precipitous, at times one-lane, track. It is called Highway 20, and arguably the most difficult of the three routes that reach the West Coast of Canada. For perhaps 100 miles the rattle and shake causes both damage to equipment and consternation to the occupants. It’s best not to hurry.
The people of Bella Coola, (First Nations and European pioneers) had long been isolated from the rest of the continent by the nearly impenetrable mountains that border the sea. A trail existed from long ago, but could accommodate only pack animals or those on foot. Even to get out via the Burke Channel was an ordeal, for that long waterway is often beset by strong winds. In summer, they are inflow winds while in winter, outflow winds compete with frequent Pacific storms. In the 1950s, the local residents resolved to solve that “little” problem by building a road; the Freedom Road they call it. The logging people toiled to build a most difficult path, but one that now gives them access to Williams Lake located on Highway 97 and provides a route to bring in supplies as well as tourists - us among them. Of course, the Red Tape of present day would not have permitted such an undertaking, but in the early 1950s, the people were more independent and determined than they are today.
Andrew Scott, author of Encyclopedia of Raincoast Place Names describes Bella Coola: “Heiltsuk First Nation name for the aboriginal inhabitants of the area, who call themselves the Nuxalk people after their term for the Bella Coola valley. The name appears as Billichoola in the 1834 journal of HBC trader and medical officer William Fraser Tolmie, and it has also been recorded as Bellaghchoola, Bellichoola, Belhoola and Bi’lxula. The main village (Q’umquots) has long been located at the site of Bella Coola, near the mouth of the river. Alexander Mackenzie arrived at this spot in 1793 to become the first white person to cross North America north of Mexico, and he referred to the community as Rascal’s Village after surviving an altercation with local residents. Members of Capt. Vancouver’s expedition also arrived that year, from the sea. The HBC had a post here 1868-82, later purchased by its former manager, trader John Clayton. A colony of Norwegian settlers arrived in the valley in 1894 and farmed, while several salmon canneries operated on the waterfront. The community of Bella Coola, with a population of almost 1000 in the early 2000s, was not linked to the rest of BC by road until 1953.”
We arrived in Bella Coola at mid-afternoon under a scorching sun pegged to a clear blue sky above an aquamarine sea. Glacial melt water turns the sea a milky-blue and provides an upper layer of fresh water that makes it pleasant to swim in. So, once we had prepped the boats for the trip, we joined the twenty or so young natives in refreshing ourselves with a dip at the launch ramp. A few of the kids delighted in playing with our dinghy (the Nutella) as we lingered at the docks for the night. Next day we would get an early start with clear heads and, hopefully, calm water.
Generally, the inflow winds start up by 10 am, as the heating of the Interior causes a thermal gradient that draws cool marine air up the inlets to replace the rapidly-rising warm air inland. The sustained airflow generates a good chop on the water, especially in Burke Channel where, with its long reaches, there is a lengthy fetch. If this were to occur in opposition to an ebbing tide, then the chop could get dangerous. Luckily, we cruised to Eucott Bay in a dead calm, passing fishing boats tending their long nets and being entertained by dolphins as we passed Mesachie Nose. We arrived there in the early afternoon to marauding hordes of horse flies and deer flies. That afternoon, as the tide went out, a couple of bears were seen at the beach foraging in the inter-tidal zone for marine delicacies. Conscious of their presence, we rowed ashore to visit the hot springs and took a dip in the hot water which, although pleasant, washed off all the bug repellent that had been providing immunity from the nasty insects. The dip in the hot springs that evening was much more enjoyable, the horse flies having finally gone home. A couple of rotting pilings was all we saw of the remnants of an old commercial venture. “The origin of the name (Eucott Bay) is unknown, but it is home to well-known hot springs. In the 1930s cabins were available for $2 per week so that visitors, mostly Ocean Falls residents, could receive treatment for rheumatism, arthritis and lumbago. The attended baths cost 10 cents a session. The Miracle Mineral Water Co sold heavily mineralized spring water in Vancouver and Victoria for $1.50 a gallon and also tried to market mud from the site as a skin rejuvenator (Scott).”
The next day we moved on to Ocean Falls where the average annual rainfall is 4,386 mm (14.62 feet). This was once a thriving pulp mill town but today is all but abandoned. Several yachts were at the docks when we arrived there in the afternoon and began to get acquainted with other visitors and the locals. “Nearly-Normal” Norman Brown is on hand to greet the new arrivals and answer any questions they may have. Norm arrived in Ocean Falls in 1990 on a job to recover copper from the remains of homes that had been burned down when the town was abandoned. After two years, the job was done but something about the place caused him to put down roots. He bought a house in Martin Valley, one and a half miles down the road from Ocean Falls where he has lived ever since, part of the community of 20 or so permanent residents that remain. (In the summer, the population swells to over 100). Over the years, Norm has collected a large variety of items that cover the upstairs portion of the marine repair building owned by Herb Carpenter, the Harbourmaster. Herb and Norm took us on a tour of the building and "museum."
Herb entertained us with stories of how he came to land in Ocean Falls. Born in Oklahoma, he left home at 15 and moved to Alaska. There, he went to work in the fishing industry and eventually married the boss’ daughter. Many years later, they landed in Ocean Falls and noticed the awful state of the dock. It being a federal facility, he phoned to complain and was subsequently asked to take on the job of harbourmaster. He clearly prides himself at having wrested about half a million dollars out of the Feds to improve the facilities, the most recent contribution having come from”Canada’s Action Plan" a make-work program created during the most recent economic problems. Together with Norm, they have made it a reasonably good facility, certainly for these parts.
Ashore, one walks among the ghosts of the town. A large hotel and an apartment building stand with vacant windows and wooden houses are collapsing under the weight of the weather and years, while the old streets are mostly choked with growth. The once-mighty pulp mill is gone. The company that owned it, Crown Zellerbach, walked away after having planned its decommissioning and assisting families with relocation. The government of the day took over the town and its industry, but their stewardship was short-lived as the format did not dovetail with the doctrine of the ensuing free-enterprise government. The people were set adrift again, this time for good, and the town was left to be reclaimed by nature. The dam and powerhouse went into private hands and still supply electricity to Ocean Falls, Shearwater and Bella Bella. A fish hatchery sits on the industrial land, but these two concerns probably have only four workers between them on site and they don’t form part of the community as their living facilities are contained within the facilities. In fact, there are only a few jobs that I could count at Ocean Falls. There is the Postmaster and the Harbourmaster. Norman is the dockhand and another man comes from Martin Valley to collect moorage fees once or twice a day. A saloon exists with irregular hours in Martin Valley as does a small store. The store has moved from a small stand-alone building located at the sea-plane ramp to the bottom floor of the owner’s house. Norman says that there is a man who will sell gas and diesel and deliver it to the dock on request. A couple from Alberta bought the accommodation/restaurant facility in 2012 – The Darke Waters - and are trying to make it a success. (They gave us two trout for bait with which we caught two large Dungeness crabs that were cooked up that evening). Dinner at their restaurant, “Tuna’s”, was delicious and ample as Rosa and I celebrated birthdays together in the company of Bruce and Debbie.
With continuing sunny weather, we opted to cruise to Roscoe Inlet the next day. We were hoping to see the spectacular mountains in their full glory and, if the weather deteriorated, we would go visit the outer islands. And so it turned out: the weather was gorgeous as we cruised up. Humpback whales were sighted in Johnson Channel and, when we finally reached the end of Roscoe Inlet, the water was warm enough to swim. At least Bruce thought so. That evening, we ate our fill of crab while marvelling at the scenery. By morning, however, it was raining and the trip down was made under the gloomy low cloud and constant rain that epitomises the Rain Coast. Now, however, waterfalls were appearing where there was only bare rock the day before. The growing storm threw up a bit of chop as we re-crossed Johnson Channel and made our way via Troup Narrows into Discovery Cove (N 52 13.3' W 128 0.5') for the night. And what a night! It must have rained nearly three inches and the bilge pump on the Port Nut cycled on every five minutes.
Next morning, we had a surprise visit from Berman, a fellow boater that I had met at Egmont during the Princess Louisa Cruise. He too was amazed at the amount of rain that had fallen and reported on several leaks that had been revealed in his “Taiwan Trawler.” With wood decks, it is common for these boats to have leaks after a certain age. After checking his crab trap, he had noticed our boat and came over to say hello and show us his catch.
That day we cruised the short distance to Shearwater where we wanted to spend time near shopping, laundry and showers and fuel, while also checking out what Bella Bella looked like. On arrival, we were notified that there had been a huge gathering at Bella Bella and that their ATM was out of cash. As it turned out, we didn’t go to Bella Bella until the following day and so we missed all but the stragglers of the big event. We went there in a water taxi and walked around to see what there was to see. I bought a couple of souvenirs: a T-shirt for myself and a sticker for The Nut. Going into the grocery store, both there and at Shearwater, we immediately noticed higher prices than we were accustomed to. When Rosa told me the price of grapes at Shearwater, a nearby-shopper quipped “That’s cheap!” By the end of the trip we would be believers and would be cringing to have to pay $10.75 for a loaf of sliced bread, but at that moment it was still a novelty.
“Waglisla is Bella Bella’s new name since 1974 and is a Heiltsuk name meaning “estuary” or “river delta” and refers specifically to a creek mouth just south of the village. The main Heiltsuk community on Campbell Island has had several names and even changed location slightly, from McLoughlin Bay, where the HBC established a post, Fort McLoughlin, 1833-45, to its present site just to the north. The name Bella Bella embraces settlements on both sides of Lama Passage (Scott).”
Shearwater, on Denny Island, is the centre of commerce on the central coast. Besides fuel and moorage, there are several other amenities and services. The grocery store has been mentioned, but in addition, there is a laundromat with showers, a pub/restaurant, marine supply store, gift shop and further down the road, a boat repair yard and shop. There is also accommodation and guided fishing. We hiked down the road toward Old Bella Bella which is also on Denny Island. It was raining steadily and my feet got sore, so Rosa and I turned back while Bruce and Debbie persevered and got to walk around that (mostly) abandoned town. The Dept. of Fisheries and Oceans (DFO) has a facility there to accommodate their vessels and personnel. (One day, we heard over the radio a surveillance plane contacting a boat. The call related to something the vessel was discharging. Although we could not catch the full conversation, we now knew that surveillance on the central coast also includes aircraft).
We ultimately spent three nights at Shearwater as a “Gale Warning” was issued. In the end, the winds did not materialize within the channels nearby and we could have left a day sooner, but we were not without entertainment in the meantime. Next to us was the 120-foot Aurora that we had previously seen coming into Ocean Falls. Also next to us was the Elaine Mae with an older couple aboard and their adult son. These friendly folks were waiting for a part to arrive with which to make repairs and so were stuck there for a while. We were the recipients of their friendly dialogue and their generously-shared food: alder-smoked salmon, no less. Also at these docks, we met Jim and Karyn who were cruising on their 25-foot Ranger Tug: Stella. I had met them at Princess Louisa and they recognized the Port Nut and came over to visit. By radio, we also spoke with Captain Mac who orients new Ranger Tug owners to their vessels. He and his wife were on the 29-footer: Ocean Weaver? They reported having had a rough ride through Johnstone Strait and on rounding Cape Caution during their northbound leg. Up to 12 foot seas!
Shearwater was one of several flying boat stations along the coast during World War 2. (Jericho Beach, in Vancouver, was established in 1920, but when WW2 broke out, another five were added). The planes flew surveillance patrols over the ocean approaches. The base’s ramp and hangar form the marine repair facilities at Shearwater. During a walk ashore, we discovered the “Spirit Trail” which takes the hiker along a ridge where we saw long rolls of rusted barbed wire. This suggested that it was an observation point. Partly hidden by the undergrowth are also cement platforms, but what their origins were, we did not discover. The base would have been quite a hub of activity during the war years, and the archipelago we travelled to next reflected that era’s military focus. “The Spider Group is filled with names like Hurricane, Mosquito, Kittyhawk and Spitfire. Henri Parizeau, the regional hydrographer in 1944, assigned these warplane names. The original inspiration was the presence of Spider Island, and the fact that Anthony Fokker’s first airplane, built in 1910, was named the Spin (Dutch for ‘spider’) on account of its many wires (Scott).”
“The name Shearwater refers to HMS Shearwater launched in 1900 in England. She spent most of her working life based at Esquimalt as part of the Pacific Station. The RN phased out the Pacific Squadron at the start of WW1 and the vessel was transferred to the RCN in 1914 and re-commissioned the HMCS Shearwater. Two of its guns were removed and used as a shore battery to defend Seymour Narrows (near Campbell River). She served as a tender to two submarines which the BC government, in a fit of nerves, had acquired from the US in 1914. In 1917, the tender escorted its charges through the Panama Canal to Halifax and spent the rest of the war as a support vessel on the Atlantic coast. The name Shearwater was assigned to a naval air base in Halifax but also became associated with the non-native part of Bella Bella, site of the WW2 flying boat station (Scott).”
Cruising to the outer islands of the Spider group offers a very different flavour compared to the fjords of the mainland coast. Here, the landscape is lower and composed of islands and rocks without count that are covered by wind-stunted trees. The narrow channels are picturesque and offer peek-a-boo views out to the endless sea. Well, it eventually does end but not until one reaches Asia. Here and there, a sandy beach provides an opportunity to walk ashore and explore. One such is Kayak Beach (N 51 53.8' W 128 14'), a favourite of kayakers because it provides a calm and sandy place to land their boats while, ashore, there are perhaps six tent sites and a fresh-water supply. After picking up a few shells, we headed into Bomb-Proof Anchorage (N 51 55.9' W 128 14.3') for the night. There, tucked into a small cove and rafted together with an anchor out front and two tethers to shore, we spent a peaceful night away from the bustle of Shearwater. The weather was improving and, by the next morning, it seemed even better. It should be noted that some of these names are not to be found on the nautical charts, but are, instead, those given by cruising authorities such as Douglass (Cruising the North Coast of British Columbia), Hale (Waggoner Guide) or Hamilton (Cruising the Secret Coast).
That day saw us cruise out of protected waters for the first time as we entered Kildidt Sound for a short while before tucking into Beasley Passage. The gentle swells of one metre every six seconds were fun to experience. Shortly after, we crossed Hakai Passage and there, felt swells of up to two metres which offered a more dramatic experience. Red Current would all but disappear behind one of the larger swells, although their vessel was a mere cable’s length away (a cable is about 600 feet). Although there was no wind during the crossing, it did come up later on as we lay at anchor near Pruth Bay. After our visit to West Beach, we relocated the vessels closer to the docks at Tthe Hakai Beach Institute. "The Hakai Beach Institute (HBI) is a scientific research, teaching and meeting center established by Eric Peterson and Christina Munck on Calvert Island, a remote island on the exposed Pacific edge of the Great Bear Rainforest on the Central Coast of British Columbia, Canada. HBI is a program of the Tula Foundation, a British Columbia-based private foundation also founded by Peterson and Munck. HBI specializes in "Long Term Ecolological Research". It has active research programs in archaeology, earth sciences, terrestrial ecology and marine ecology. HBI enjoys partnerships with neighbouring First Nations, local schools, government agencies and the BC universities (Wikipedia)." The Institute welcomes boaters to tie dinghies at their dock and walk through the property to West Beach. This was a beautiful setting to visit. At anchor, we were visited by the McNabs who were also anchored in the bay in Chanter. We had met them originally in the Broughtons in 2011 and have encountered them a couple of more times since. They live on Pender Island.
After the night at Pruth Bay, we cruised across Fitzhugh Sound and into Green Island Anchorage. There, an overgrown midden site presides over a secluded anchorage surrounded by tree-covered islands. Low cloud shrouded the island tops and obscured Calvert Island where we had just come from. Rain fell. The next day, we weighed anchor for Dawson’s Landing where we would re-fuel and re-provision (bread: $10.75 per loaf). Fuel, showers, food . . . everything seems expensive at Dawson’s Landing but we recognize that it is extremely difficult to make a living wherever the numbers of boaters are few. Dawson’s Landing has been around a long time, certainly in the same family since 1954. While we were there, a crew of “timber cruisers” was staying at one of the rental cabins. Sharply at 0800, they headed out to their jobs. From the looks of the pitted planks on the docks, logging people have been visiting this facility for many years and wearing their cork boots.
Next door, so to speak, is also a DFO facility which was established here long ago. Aloft, the sun was shining now and we were entertained by a sequence of other boaters who seemed very willing to spend time chatting. One boat had just arrived from Kitimat (where I lived many years ago) after a day’s run. It turned out that the skipper knows my cousin, Frankie, as well as several other acquaintances there. Ashore, a mother bear with two cubs came out of the underbrush to stare at the curious creatures that inhabit the noisy human world. Bruce thought it was a grizzly sow, but I firmly assured him that it was a rust-coloured black bear. I took several photos then as well as a bit later when I spotted the mother and cubs again. Much later, when the photos were reviewed and enlarged, it was fairly clear that she was indeed a grizzly. That certainly makes for a more interesting story, since black bear sightings are all too commonplace here.
We spent a pleasant night at Dawson’s and, early in the morning, began to hear boats leaving the dock. Our friend from Kitimat was rounding Cape Caution southbound that day and wanted to be there early while it was calm. Our own day was going to be more casual as we were merely planning to cruise down Rivers Inlet to Goose Bay. Enroute, we stopped at Duncanby Landing where we made reservations for dinner. While watching the goings-on among the wealthy fishers of salmon and halibut, Rosa spotted one of the guides filleting a halibut. She went to ask whether she could have the trimmings for crab bait and what she got was a carcass with enough meat left on it to feed us the next night with delicious halibut in quantities that we could not easily afford back home. Debbie estimated that we ate about $100 worth if bought at our local grocer. Dinner at Duncanby was delicious too and quite reasonably priced.
“James Graham built a wharf, store and fuel station at this spot about 1936 . . . They had wanted to call the location Duncan Bay but, as the name was already in use, settled instead for Duncanby Landing. Graham and his wife added a restaurant and persuaded Union Steamships to stop at their popular landing selling out in 1972 (Scott).”
“New owners bought Duncanby in spring 2005, and they transformed it from a rustic, rough and tumble wilderness stopover to a high-quality destination fly-in fishing resort. Gone are the commercial boats. Gone are the boys from around the inlet who hung out in the bar. The old houses . . . have been replaced with solid new quarters for the fly-in guests (Waggoner).”
Anchored in near-by Goose Bay, we caught two more crabs that night and cooked them for the following day. That day saw us cruising north to Kwakume Inlet. It is a beautiful setting with some chop coming into the bay from the NW wind that had come up as the afternoon progressed. We left the inlet at 10-ish the next morning but not before the Port Nut had undergone a minor repair. Doing an engine check that morning, we noticed that the water pump belt was hanging on by a thread. After half an hour of grunting (for I had consumed a healthy breakfast) we were underway and were soon out in a two-foot chop. There is a stretch of Fitzhugh Sound with no protection from Hakai Pass rollers and so it was a bit rough as we cruised northward. The BC Ferries’ Northern Expedition came up on our stern and we hailed her to request they notify our family aboard that we were off their starboard side. We were unable to train our binoculars on them to see any detail so did not know until two days later (by text message) that the seven of them had indeed seen us and waved with great enthusiasm.
We then entered the bay at the Koeye River estuary but did not land on account of the chop and lack of a dock. There is a beautiful beach in the bay and, ashore, a collection of buildings. “This Heiltsuk term is believed to mean “bird sitting on the water.” The 18,750 hectare Koeye Conservancy, an intact old-growth rainforest watershed with some of BC’s most productive salmon and grizzly bear habitat, represents an important aspect of the lands protected by the historic 2006 central coast land-use decision. The Koeye people, a branch of the Heiltsuk, formerly occupied several village sites on this river. An ecotourism lodge is now located at its mouth. About 1.5km upstream is the remains of a limestone quarry, which operated 1935-67 (Scott).” Sounds like a good place to visit the next time.
Continuing on we passed by Namu but, again, did not land. This was the spot when, on May 26,1793, Vancouver's Expedition re-started the exploration of the coast. How sad it was to see this old cannery facility collapsing in on itself. A ship, the Chilcotin Princess, was tied to the docks and listing badly. It is disappointing that our governments just allow companies (BC Packers bought the property in 1912) to walk away from such large amounts of debris once the resource has been exhausted. “Namu, is the Heiltsuk First Nation name meaning “place of high winds,” referring especially to the SE blasts that sweep over the Namu Range and give nearby Whirlwind Bay its name. Archeological excavations have revealed that Namu was used by aboriginal people as a habitation site, at least seasonally, for 11,000 years or more and is thus one of the longest continually occupied places in Canada. In 1893, Robert Draney built a cannery at this spot and added a sawmill in 1911. The cannery was rebuilt and changed hands several times, eventually becoming one of the largest and most efficient fish-processing complexes on the BC coast (Scott).” Unfortunately, the last inhabitants recently moved away and so one would guess that the continuous occupation has come to an end. We anchored around the corner at Fougner Bay for the night and slept very well after a celebratory drink or two. Our short visit to the Central Coast was nearly at an end and we were cherishing the highlights of that which we had sampled.
“Fougner Bay is named for Iver Fougner (1870-1947) born at Lillehammer, Norway, who immigrated to Minnesota and worked as a teacher before joining the first group of Norwegians to settle in the Bella Coola valley in 1894. Articulate and intelligent, he served as the group’s secretary and as a member of its managing committee. He was also the settlement’s first schoolteacher. His writings are an important source of information about the colony. In 1901 he became the first person to receive a teacher’s certificate at the old Vancouver Normal School; in 1909 he was named Indian agent for the Bella Coola region (Scott).”
The trip up Burke Channel is best started as early in the morning as possible. By 0600 hours we were enroute and at 0650, the log reads that three Humpback whales were spotted off our starboard side. We like to think that it was Mom, Dad and Baby Humpback as one of them was certainly a juvenile. We stopped at Cathedral Point (about half-way) for lunch. By the time we weighed anchor at 1130, the wind was up and a light chop was starting. This got gradually worse and the long reaches of the Channel were still to be traversed. By the time we neared the forks to Labouchere and Bentinck Arms, we were surfing a three-foot chop. The local dolphins were having fun with our boats, riding the bow waves and flashing underneath our hulls from one side to the other. We got many photos of splashes in the water, which is about all that can be expected. They are so fast.
Arriving at Bella Coola at 1510, we had ample time to retrieve the boats and prep them for the road. We made two stops to readjust the trim on the trailers as the bumpy road made it extremely rough to tow. Our stop for the night was at a campground in Tweedsmuir Park where we met a couple from Belgium/France who were planning to buy a wooden boat to cruise the coast. Independently, both couples wished them well and encouraged them to do their boating now while they are young and energetic. Not surprisingly, after reaching the Bridge Lake cabin, I spent the best part of two days unloading and cleaning the boat. I climbed on and off the trailer and boat unit so many times that I lost count. By the end of each day, I went to bed exhausted.
Washing and cleaning the Port Nut marked the end of the cruise of 2014. She has taken us on another fabulous adventure and we feel enriched by the experiences we had. The boat was very dependable and kept us comfortable throughout. Well, as comfortable as the limited space allows for, and knowing its limitations, I stay away from visiting other boats lest I catch that dreaded virus: fourfootitis.