Egmont, BC 28 August 2015

Mostly Down Day

Overnight, light rain fell, resuscitating the mosses that were looking pretty dim. They call this the 'Sunshine Coast' ('they' being the local boosters; every little community has its hypesters, and it's hard not to laugh at them, especially on a day like today) -- but this is, after all, a temperate rain forest, and the natives here need the rain. I see it's set for the whole coast, as far south as Caspar maybe, and this may put a dent in the fires? It's an ill wind that doesn't blow someone good.

For us, however, this is one of those travel days one could easily press Fast Forward on. We started the walk to the Sechelt Narrows, known for their tidal water show, sometimes, like on a full moon day like today, a tidal berm up to two meters high. On the way there's meant to be a bakery-cafe ... and there is, with a sign, 'Due to the sudden death of our oven, CLOSED TODAY.' No breakfast. 

Or no four kilometer walk. Breakfast won out, and we drove over to Earl's Cove for a few bites at the Cove Cafe. Very ordinary ... but it would be a nice place to await the ferry departure. Better, at least, than Saltery Bay.

I'm sitting next to a power plug in the downstairs lounge of West Coast Wilderness Lodge (WCWL), watching the clouds play amongst the surrounding mountains. From here to Alaska, the North American continent falls off abruptly into the Pacific; the offshore islands, like the big one, Vancouver Island, are bits that broke off in some unimaginable event many hundreds of thousands of years ago. When I post this page, its bits travel half a million miles via satellite to the Caspar Institute web server. Big numbers like these are hard to comprehend.

So, frankly, on a day like today, is an anomaly like WCWL. I think it's that second W that pulled me in: the sort of 'British in the Jungle' idea that one can experience true wilderness without any personal inconvenience. 

Okay on that second part; no mosquitoes yet, and while the food isn't spectacular, it's adequate especially when the difficulties of staffing and provisioning here on the edge of true wilderness are taken into account.

From Powell River northwards, travel is by boat or not at all, because the land is so vertical. It's called 'the Bear Coast' because the Grizzly is the apex inhabitant. Without Vancouver Island's sheltering bulk -- the Sunshine Coast enjoys clement weather due to Vancouver Island's rain shadow, and the fact that the waters trapped between the narrow channels to its north and south gradually warms up, and warms the adjoining land -- the Bear Coast is undiluted temperate rainforest. The BC government, hiding behind a green facade (like the narrow bands of forests preserved along the highways to conceal the clear cuts) is truly as resource greedy as the rest Canada's conservative federal government -- the folks who so cheerfully brought us the Alberta Oil Sands debacle.

Interesting, being here in Green BC -- green in every sense, having sent two Green representatives to the national parliament, and being almost entirely covered with forest. The company that is still trying to run the pipeline from Alberta to Texas is hedging its bets by trying to double down on an aging pipeline from Alberta to Vancouver. Like the US Federal bureaucracy, the conservatives have been patiently stacking the deck against sensible management of dwindling resources. They've muzzled their energy board, so it's just 'advisory' and stuffed with industry puppets. While it's clearly a lost cause, objecting, Canadians are so well educated that their letters to the editor are wonderful to read ...even if their writers have failed to grasp what is so clear down below: that the conservatives have their own fact-set, conveniently and thoroughly insulated from actuality, and so no amount of good sense will make the slightest dent.

I'm going to stop now. Being here on the edge of wilderness -- wilderness that is so clearly stressed and changing, who cares whether by anthropogenesis or not -- makes the imminent loss even more troubling. I'm going to stop troubling the aether with my transmissions, and read a good escapist bodice ripper.

Boat Ride to Skookumchuk

I have to revise my report. Mostly, a down day, but with tomorrow's forecast cancelling our planned zodiac ride, we arranged for Kevin the Captain to take us down to Skookumchuck Narrows, also known as Sechelt Rapids, where two billion gallons of water pours through each time the tide changes. That's a lot of water.

It was big enough today to be (relatively) smooth and navigable, and Kevin took us through three times, and hovered 'in my hole' for a couple of minutes to watch the kayakers playing.

We played too, back and forth through the standing waves, whirls, and upwellings. I shot a couple of movies of the kayakers and the waves. Impressive. Thrilling. Made our day.

Worth remembering: this isn't a river; this is an arm of the sea. This phenomenon isn't unknown, but this is one of the most spectacular instances anywhere.

After the thrill of Skookumchuk, Kevin raced down the inlet to a favorite spot of his, where he showed us First Nation rock paintings that have been dated at 700 to 900 years old, well before George Vancouver threaded these waters in 1778.

He took us to see fur seals, and an off-the-grid island with a tiny carbon footprint named (we think) Out There. A feature of this area is the dotting of second homes all along the shoreline, accessible only by boat. This is a boaters paradise, and, obviously, has been for a long time.