KYUKUOT SOUND VANCOUVER ISLAND 2007 Kyuquot Sound Lies

KYUKUOT SOUND VANCOUVER ISLAND 2007

Kyuquot Sound lower left south east of Brooks Peninsula jutting out into the ocean Kyuquot Sound lies sheltered from the rugged Pacific Ocean off the northern west coast of Vancouver Island, a vast wilderness area. Kyuquot Village is at the southern extremity of this wilderness, the northernmost community of 14 Nuu-chah-nulth First Nation bands. The rewards for making the difficult journey here is to be immersed in a pristine wild coastline, and the solitude provided by a maze of volcanic isles and islets interwoven with the sea, and inland preserved temperate rainforest with magnificent stands of Sitka spruce, the only species of tree able to thrive under the constant salt- and magnesium-loaded spindrift that winter storms carry ashore in high winds. In the sheltering forest, marbled murrelets nest in the deep moss that enshrouds the thick branches of the spruce. Herds of Roosevelt elk graze in the lush, green understory, while black bears forage in the berry-laden bushes. Mountain lion and wolves stalk their prey in the deep forests and along beaches, and sea otters, sea lions and harbor seals feed in the saltwater passageways. This wild shoreline is one of the last remaining environments on the west coast where logging has been held mercifully at bay, from Brooks Peninsula Provincial Park south to Checleset Bay and a section of Fair Harbor. Vancouver Island lies in the North Eastern Pacific Ocean, the largest island on the West Coast of North America 276 miles (460 km) in length from the south capital of Victoria to Cape Scott’s windswept beaches and rocky headlands at its northern tip. The rugged terrain along the mountain spine and outer coast combines old-growth forests, snowcapped mountains, and untamed shorelines to create a very diverse temperate forest and marine ecosystem. Vancouver Island has been the homeland to many indigenous peoples for thousands of years, but first explored by British and Spanish expeditions in the late 18th century. It is one of several North American locations named after George Vancouver, who explored the Pacific Northwest coast between 1791 and 1794. I shared that desire to explore the outer coast and had the opportunity over the years to kayak two wonderful wilderness areas over the years. My first kayak trip was in 1976 paddling the Clayoquot Island group north of Tofino, reached by a long drive across the mountainous spine central to Vancouver island from Nanaimo. This area was still relatively little known then before sea kayaking became popular and Tofino was changed from a fishing port into a tourist town. The second trip to the outer coast came over three decades later in 2007 when I desired to film the reintroduced sea otter community and explore Kyuquot by kayak and by boat. Paddling the Clayoquot Islands north of Tofino in 1975 before it became discovered was an amazing experience and my first introduction to sea kayaking. I remembered drifting on the edge of large waves before they broke towards rocky reefs, paddling next to grey whales foraging for sea pens along the sandy ocean bottom, exploring underwater reefs, snorkeling in underwater forests of kelp beds for abalone, and walking beaches where there were no people, and finding an octopus trapped in a deep lave tide pool. I will never forget having a huge school of Pacific herring torpedoing in unison underneath my kayak, flashing silver at the edge of the surfline and leaping out of the water chased by larger King or chinook salmon. I was drawn by the rich forest and intertidal interface of sea life and its great diversity here, and had to return athough 30 decades later. I arranged to explore Kyuquot Sound as a guest of Walters Cove Resort reached by Fair Harbor to the east. From Kyoquot Village I would explore the islets north to Cleveland Peninsula, and film sea otters that were increasing in their population since their introduction several decades ago. Kyuquot is world famous for its productive salmon and halibut fishery. Hundreds of differing schools or runs of Chinook (King) and Coho (Silver) salmon follow a corridor, a “Salmon Highway” along the west side of the Island at 50-fathom line depth. There is a large underwater feeding mile long reef east of this corridor located at the entrance to Kyuquot Sound, inviting salmonid concentrations to linger and feed. Salmon hold there before continuing their journey south to their river of origin, some as far away as California. The amazing marine productivity here is due to canyons that extend from the continental shelf connecting deep, cold and nutrient rich upwellings from the Pacific Ocean to the surface. These upwellings mix and support exploding phytoplankton and zooplankton populations, creating a plankton soup fed on by baitfish that include herring, anchovies, sand lance which in turn support their predators by salmon and tuna, and bottom fish such as halibut and lingcod. And the nutrient rich marine ecosystem is surrounded by old grow temperate rainforest, a refuge for old growth Sitka spruce, cedar and hemlock. I was to take a week vacation and on a Friday night in late August, tired after work I finished packing camping gear, folding kayak and paddles, dry bags and food and left the house in Bothell north of Seattle by 7 PM. I made it to the Canadian border by 9PM, waited through customs, then finally got to Tsawwassen by 10:30 PM where I caught the ferry to Nanaimo. Two-hour crossing and arrived at 1AM. Drove for another hour before I finally found a small side road to pull off and sleep in the truck. Couldn’t really sleep more than about 4 hours.

August 29, 2007. Drove north to Campbell River on a beautiful morning with light over fog breaking through on the peaks. Just north of Campbell River I gained a wonderful view of the glaciated mountains of Strathcona Park. Left the highway at Woss and turned on a gravel logging road to Zeballos towards the west coast and salter water. The logging road passed through mountains that form the north south spine of Vancouver Island, and the peaks were draped in mist and clouds enhancing sections of old growth forests still intact. Everything else downslope has been heavily logged down to the edges of lakes and stream, clear-cuts all the way to Zeballos and tidewater. Lots of waterfalls, and snow fields, meadows and lush growth in the second growth forests recovering from logging.

Reached the quaint town of Zeballos located north and east of Nootka Island between Nootka Sound and Esperanza Inlet. It is picturesquely nestled at the foot of towering green- cloaked mountains. Now only a population of fewer than 300 people, the town was the site of BC's last gold rush during the 20 & 30s. and followed the shore for several miles, then a rough road for another 16 miles across a clear-cut ridge to Fair Harbor. Fair Harbor is a small inlet in the coast that consisted of a long dock, a small grocery store, and machine shop that most likely was used to repair fishing boats.

Unloaded the truck with all me gear and waited patiently for Leo jack, a First Nation Kyuquot Checleset who charged a high price for his water taxi to Kyuquot, only a 20 kilometer (12 miles) or 25-minute run from Fair Harbour. The tidal flats were beautiful and

Walters Cove Resort, Kyuquot Grocery where the MV Uchuck delivers passengers and supplies weekly covered with sedge meadows, but unfortunately, they forests were logged all the way to tide water. Leroy arrived a little late, and we loaded his aluminum boat. He was a heavy-set man, about 5’4, and noticed he was blind in the left eye that was opaque. He said little, and we motored off to the village of Kyuquot, and Walters Cove across the bay where I was staying. Finally arrived at the village, tucked between the mainland and a small Islet at Walters Cove.

Kyuquot is off the south side of a forested Island, filled with lakes that once carried sockeye salmon until it was logged. Brad, manager of West Coast resorts offered me free room and use of his boat guides for exchanging some photos of sea otters. I am amazed at Gods hand in providing this hospitality. Kyuquot Sound is one of the 5 major sounds indenting the west coast of Vancouver Island. To the northwest of Kyuquot Sound is Checleset Bay. To the east is the steep Vancouver Island mountain range, with peaks of over 1500 meters that descend 15 km to the sound. The Kyuquot and Checleseht territories are accessible only by air and water; the only road access is at Fair Harbor, where there is a government dock, boat ramp, free and paid parking, fuel station, propane, small store and camping.

Kyuquot Sound contains the Barrier Islands, which form an arc in front of the Sound. Union Island, the largest of these islands, effectively shelters Kashutl and Tahsish inlets from Pacific swells. These and other islands dominate the shoreline configuration of the outer coast. Offshore, the continental margin is a broad submarine shelf stretching about 30 km from shore, with a seafloor generally less than 200m deep. Kyuquot has some of the most pristine temperate rainforest left on Vancouver Island, and has some preservation such as: Brooks Peninsula Provincial Park, Checleseht Bay Ecological Reserve, Tahsish-Kwois Provincial Park, Tahsish River Ecological Reserve, Dixie Cove Provincial Park and Rugged Point Marine Park. I had researched that it was a complex ecosystem with many small islands, bays, beaches, rocky shoals, streams and rivers, lush forests, hills and mountains.

Incredible afternoon. Settled in and met the staff while given a delicious pastrami cheese sandwich, then headed out to see the sea otters in one of their small aluminum fishing boats with a small enclosed cockpit and open transom. We came to shoal where there were several hundred sea otters and drifted off Chief Rock near Spring Island for a half hour. The otters were sleeping, but many would wrap themselves up in kelp fronds, grooming, Bald eagles perched on rocks just outside Kyuquot snoozing on their backs with front paws folded almost as if in prayer, rolling, playing interacting. So amazing to be so close to them. And there was a beautiful evening light on the otters.

Returned by 7 PM as the fisherman came back with their catch of red snapper, ling cod and a few 12-15-pound spring Chinook salmon. The first nation guides and locals are so friendly and good natured. I met Rob, Kyuquot Checleset Indian man of slight build and dark handsome features was asked to take me out again, as the light was getting better and the sun had broken through for an hour. Boarded the boat and motored through the bay at a falling tide through a narrow passage with large rock faces and islets close to either side. The tree covered islets were amazingly on fire in color: metallic greens of foliage, and bronze, burnt sienna, yellow ochre tones of exposed brown seaweed and kelp glistening in the low evening sunlight. There was also red and maroon coloration of the red algae group, green algae, and colourful starfish of purple and orange hues.

Once at chief rock, we drifted in perfect light of turquoise water reflections and gold coloured otters. They had really captivated me, watching them roll in the kelp to secure them, blowing air into their fur to help keep them more buoyed. We spent another half hour watching, even hearing one individual off to the left that was cracking a crab on a rock resting on its chest. Many of the otter were sleeping with their paws over their eyes, or over their ears. We drifted amidst them several times, and Rob was great about controlling the boat even though we were right at the edge of a reef that amplified the swells into waves.

The sun had now settled below a bank of offshore clouds, so Rob backed us out of the kelp, and we motored over to what he called seal island, an islet out in the open pacific due west

from where we were, and past spring Island. We cautiously approached in large swells the rock islet where a large group of Stellar sea lions had hauled out. Many huge bulls roaring on the rocks, with their large harems and calves gathered around them. Huge swells off the Pacific Ocean smashed and broke over the islet, creating such a raw, powerful atmosphere where sea affronts land of the rugged coast. As we surged in and out with the giant swells near the rookery, many took to the water, while others bellowed and belched and moved to the other side of the small islet. The waves carried us with such force and I could barely stand up in the boat as we were powerfully carried by wave force towards the rocks, then pulled back on the reflecting rebound. The island was so noisy with their grunts, belches, roars and calls.

Clouds building up over the water to the east was so blue in color and the forest turned a metallic green in the reflection of a brilliant setting sun. A spectacular sunset formed to the west with deep blue clouds and shafts of red light, a beautiful evening and I praised the Lord God for the opportunity to see this beauty and the hand of His work and raw beauty. I learned that Kyuquot Sound meant in translation "place of many winds” an area rich in native history dating back some 4000 years. Returned with Rob so elated, and was treated to a great dinner at the lodge, and finally a hot shower and warm bed. I slept so well and was so thankful to the Lord for His provision on this trip.

August 31. A storm front moved in this morning. Brad offered to take me out north to the Brooks peninsula to the north and explore the Checleseht Bay Ecological Reserve and an Indian whaling village that had several totems still recognizable, rotting in the forest. I shared a great breakfast with the staff of sausage, eggs and hash browns. Left with camera and rain gear protection, and motored towards the Acous peninsula just east of the Bunsby Islands, a rocky jagged coast of islets and islands, and steep beaches. Encountered some swell behind Spring islands and once past their protection we were hammered by huge swells from the open pacific, and a dark squall was coming from the west with heavy rain . But the steep mountains to the east descending from Vancouver Island were spectacular. The coast varied with rock reefs and cliffs, interspersed with steep gravel beaches where you could land a kayak. Bundsby Island Group south of Brooks Peninsula Once east of the Bunsby Island group we motored into Checleseht Bay and OuOu Kinner Inlet, a sheltered section of the Ahous peninsula. As we beached the boat on intertidal reefs and lined it to a large Sitka Spruce along the beach, he explained we were at a 120-year-old Checleseht Indian camp where there were still a few totems left lying on the forest floor. Amidst walls of salal and spruce, we found both totems of what was once a Kyuquot Checleset whaling village. One totem depicted the head of thunderbird, the other of a whale lying on its side. Young saplings were growing on the thunderbird, which had a carved beak stuck into the ground. The other totem had a rotting mask lying next to it. Such a privilege to see this site. According the Kyuquot, the chief here had lost a son, and he abandoned the village to move elsewhere. I walked around to find any remnants of a long house, but there was none. There were only the deep shell middens of clams of the village that I walked on that were probably a thousand years old.

The Kyuquot, perhaps 2,000 in all, were once the largest of Nuu-chah-nulth nations, occupying 14 river-mouth villages during salmon runs and four winter villages. Populations Above Totem Checleset Kyuquot Acous Peninsula Below Nuu-chah-nulth Totem Pole, Acous Peninsula of all West Coast natives declined drastically after Europeans arrived from the spread smallpox, tuberculosis, and measles. The much- diminished Kyuquot and Checleset nations, former enemies, finally amalgamated in 1963. Historic records note the Checleset were formidable warriors. British blacksmith John Jewitt, enslaved by Yuquot Chief Maquinna from 1802 to 1804, related that a Checleset group, visiting Yuquot after a raiding party, "informed our chief that they had been to war with another tribe and killed 100 men and women." The Checleset were known to display heads of the vanquished before their villages, boring holes in the skulls and stringing them together. The Kyuquot, by contrast, had a reputation for pacifism.

The Kyuquot were sustained by the abundant marine, terrestrial and coastal resources of this region and fished for five species of salmon, halibut and other ground fish, herring, abalone, sea urchins, mussels, clams. Shellfish were harvested from the many streams and inlets of the coast. Off shore, they hunted sea otter, seals, sea lions and whales from our dug-out canoes. On land, they picked the many berries and roots that made up an important part of our diet. The Kyuquot were part of an extensive trade network, with routes weaving east through Tahsish and Artlish all the way to the east coast of Vancouver Island. Their dentalia shells, which were used as currency in early First Nations trading, have been found in locations across the continent and as far away as Mexico. They travelled the ocean by canoe, made from the great cedar trees that are now almost complete gone from logging. From cedar wood and bark they made baskets, clothing, and the great totems that recounted our family stories. Houses were made of cedar, and painstakingly disassembled and moved each summer when all the local groups shared a summer village on Aktis Island. Throughout the year, the tribes united for feasts, potlatches, singing, dancing and other communal practices.

Great demand for their once abundant sea-life also had a huge impact on the community, where demand for otter pelts moved them away from their winter villages, and decimated the resident sea otter population. In the early 1900s, the arrival of large-scale commercial fisheries, whaling and forestry industries further changed the landscape. Once abundant resources such as fish and forests depleted, the Kyuquot struggled with many challenges. One resource management issue of particular concern is the protection of resident sea otters, which once were extirpated as a result of extensive trading in the 1800s, were reintroduced in the early 1970s. The otters are a natural part of the ecosystem and their presence restores balance. They reduce the number of urchins and abalone (which in turn eat kelp). This allows kelp forest, which act as nurseries for young fish, to flourish. However, as sea otters are now a protected species, we are unable to control their expanding population and thus manage certain areas for higher shellfish production, as once would have.

A Kyuquot elder named Hatsa (Robert Peter), 84, related that over 70 years ago when police came for Hatsa as a boy, he hid in the forest. The children were taken to schools to learn English, and were forbidden to speak their language. Hatsa now is a living repository of traditional language and culture, one of a handful of Kyuquot people who speak the Wakashan language. Such elders' knowledge of river ownership and inheritance may prove important to Nuu-chah-nulth treaty negotiations with B.C. and Canada, which involve land claims and rights to resources and self-governance.

Rob had related to me much of this history, and continued that in his community, each of the chiefly families’ names is associated with a stream, inlet, island or other natural feature. Family names carry the suffix –aht, which means “people of.” For example, Ka:'yu:'k't'h' (Kyuquot), are “the people of Ka:'yu:'k.” In this way, our connection to the lands and waters of this region is evident even in our own tribal names. Today, we face many challenges that have resulted from the alienation of our people from their territory and from one another.

Rob continued “Many people of our village live in poverty, because there are restrictions placed on our access to our territorial land and resources. And mismanagement and closure of commercial industries in our region has left many of our people without alternate ways to make a living. On reserve, our people lack access to adequate housing and facilities (such as a recreational center). We also lack sanitary garbage removal. Without the financial resources, we aren’t able to address either of these issues. Years of alienation from our traditional ways of being have led to problems with substance abuse with alcohol and drugs. Today we maintain a dry community; alcohol is not permitted on any of our reserve lands.” I grieved for this community, but there was a strong Christian presence reaching out to help the people here.

Left Ahous peninsula on a falling tide and it started to rain lightly, as we traveled in large swells again towards the Brooks peninsula. We left the abandoned village while the darkened clouds of the storm front began to unleash on us with a light rain, changing to a downpour. We motored towards the Brooks Peninsula through islets and the Bunsby Island group. We were traveling in the Checleset Bay Ecological Reserve (33,000 hectares) located north of Kyuquot Sound and south of Brooks Peninsula. It was established in 1981 to provide sufficient high-quality marine habitat for a reintroduced population of sea otters to increase their range and abundance to the point that they are no longer endangered. The Clanninick Creek Ecological Reserve (37 hectares) was established to preserve a small, exceptional alluvial growing site for a stand of old-growth Sitka spruce. Located 3.5 km N of

Sitka spruce Picea sitchensis in evergreen understory of salal Gaultheria shallon Kyuquot, the reserve is 2.5km inland from the ocean. The old growth Sitka spruce trees reach 2.5 to 3 meters in diameter and 75 meters in height; there are about 35 such large trees as well as smaller ones. The excellent growth is thought to be as a result of base-rich parent materials developed from volcanic rocks. The primary management concern is the impact of adjacent logging surrounding the ecological reserve, isolating it as a narrow- forested island and resulting in severe blow down and possible degraded water quality and flow regime impacting the spawning salmon.

The Brooks peninsula is roughly a 10 by 15 kilometres of brick-shaped headland known as one of the wildest, wettest, and stormiest places on the West Coast. In 1995, the peninsula became part of a provincial park protecting the Nasparti watershed, as well as streams draining into Johnson Lagoon. Also preserved are the west-facing slopes along Nasparti Inlet, the Power River and Battle Creek watersheds, and the Mount Seaton area, a broad tract of old-growth forest between Brooks Peninsula and the nearest road. There is no trail that penetrates this natural world, a vertiginous spine down the peninsula's center, with forbidding rocks and shelves forming the shoreline on three sides. The peninsula's wild domain of bogs, impenetrable brush, and forest clinging to impossibly steep slopes separated the traditional territories of the Nuu-chah-nulth and Kwakwaka'wakw people. Today, Brooks Bay, on the peninsula's west side, provides one of the few camping spots. There is astoundingly plentiful wildlife in its bays, including more than 400 sea otters, which European sailors hunted to extinction in the 1700s and scientists successfully recolonized here starting in 1969. The Brooks Peninsula escaped the last ice age, and as a result, rare plant species found refuge among its unique geological formations. It is also

Bunsby Island Group

Black Bear sow and cubs

wolf, black-tailed deer

Top Brooks peninsula, Black bear, wolf, blacktailed deer, Bottom Osytercathcer, common merganser pair

Black turnstone, black-tailed deer eating beach algae difficult to penetrate the rain-forest perimeter that walls the stands; an impenetrable morass of mosses, ferns, and deadfall cloaked with thickets of waist-high salal bushes. Centuries-old Sitka spruce here have an enormous girth, and the exposed forests routinely withstand Pacific winter storms.

The Bunsby group of five major islands has become a refuge for more than 400 sea otters, which are surprisingly large, as much as 100 pounds (45 kilograms) and 60 inches (150 cm) long. They are covered with guard hairs with underneath a soft thick coat that made them a prized catch centuries ago. Easily spotted, they play, preen, and munch on shellfish as they float lazily on their backs. At night, they wrap themselves in bull-kelp tendrils, which are anchored to the ocean floor, thus keeping them in place while they sleep.

Mainland of Vancouver Island Brooks Peninsula nearing Nasparti Inlet

Cleveland Peninsula and Nasparti Inlet that has a narrow passageway with large tidal rapids between tides

Brad motored through many small islets north of the Bunsby Island group, then turned east into Nesparti Inlet and the forested, rugged and steep slopes of the Books Peninsula sloping dramatically vertical from rocky beaches next to us. Encountered much sea foam as we entered the head of Nesparti Inlet, and found the source, a two-mile-long Johnson Lagoon that was emptying through a churning narrow. Brad kept the boat here into the current just below the outlet, a fun spot fighting the outgoing tidal rapids and witnessing the dramatic canyon and rapids filled with gulls. Couldn’t enter the bay as the narrows had two very large and exposed boulders slightly hidden under water, so we followed the peninsula to the outer coast edge, encountering huge swells rounding Clark Point. Brad checked out the beaches, and we almost surfed onto shore on huge 5-6-foot swells in 25 feet depth of the sea. The waves peaked and broke 50-100 feet from the shore where we motored enough to not be swept onshore.

It began to rain heavily, and dark blue grey clouds enveloped the peaks around us. Could hear the hiss of the rain on the sea amidst the squall, and heard thunder and the roar of breaking surf just beyond us landward. I got nervous in the steeper swells, as many were nearby breaking on the rocks too close to us as we drifted close to the beach. Brad backed up and we continued just offshore to explore other beaches where he wanted to surf the boat in just where a river emerged from the steep foothills. This beach was a beautiful spot, where there were huge Sitka spruce and a steep cobble beach. We saw three otters that poked their heads up by the river outlet, and was inspired by the rugged and raw coastline.

The run back was fast as the boat slammed through steep waves, then turning towards the Bunsby Islands had a following 3-foot sea that drenched us and the back of the boat. Storm petrels glided, then floated above the waves, searching for baitfish. Encountered more squalls and we were pounded by chop and stormy seas until we reached a break and saw the sun just north of Kyuquot Sound. Thank you, Lord, and prayed for Gods will to be expressed in my life.

Worn out by the pounding ride back in the small boat, I rested before I went out with Rob again this late afternoon. He left the dock and we floated in next to an old wooden boat filled with first nation kids from the village and addressed a man named Danny. Danny was a heavy set, very brown skinned man who was with another woman. Rob said she was his girlfriend for a while, until she went back to her husband. I was grieved over how the village not knowing the Lord and His love, versus a Catholic Church establishment here with no priest. I have talked to some of the Kyuquot Checleseht people like rob and Keith on the village life and discovered their need for the Lord, with marriages dissolving and exchanging wives, partners, people living together, and the lack of the Lord Jesus in this community. I wanted so much to share Jesus with them and the good news, but find it hard to get a start about Christ and His love for us. They are wonderful people, but they also must carry so much pain and are hiding it, there is an emptiness here. Rob has such a good eye for light and Gods creation, and wants to please. Lord I pray for these people and for their salvation. who had worked with the BC fisheries sea otter commission, and told us of an otter female pupping area south of spring island in a group called Moose Islands. WE shot across the bay and found them, quite a few females with young but they were so wary. We motored back to Chief Rock and at high tide, found only a very small group of 20 otters. The rest were out foraging at high tide. Returned to the lodge and I shared a great meal of white King salmon, crab, and shrimp baked on mushrooms…so good. Raining hard now.

Brad shared a few stories and his work at another fishing lodge to the north. He had seen in August 3-5,000 pacific white-sided dolphins spread as far as the eye could see towards the horizon, leaping and porpoising in the water. He was amazed at this huge number. Another Molluscs Mossy chiton, Nudibranch center and right Top: nudibranch, pisaster starfish, sculpin, rock crab, Bottom: kelp crab, sponge

trip on his sailboat at night he encountered photoluminescent ‘torpedoes’ coming right at his boat, and they were dolphins coming to play at the bow, stirring up bioluminescence, also however a sign you are near a rocky subtidal shoal. He also experienced a blue shark taking a salmon off a fisherman’s hook, and Orca taking Chinook salmon off a line, leaving the head, while leaving Coho alone, not as oily and desirous. Heard humpback whale mating Sitka spruce forest, Top: camas, monkey flower mimulus spp. Allium spp wild onion. Bottom Orchid, Indian paintbrush Castilleja spp. Scrphulariaceae, Sedum spp or stoncrop calls and their complexity of repeated bars and measures, when songs are old from one year, they add bars of immature males successful mating and other males copy the measure. Brad also encountered a brown bear along the coast on a steep forested slope 25 feet away. They stared each other down for a few seconds while they slowly backed down the steep slope. Brad said he finally pulled out the rifle slowly, and fired a warning shot above the bears head. But the bear didn’t flinch, then stepped sideways with its eyes on them. Finally, they backed away and heard two cubs call behind what was a dangerous sow, and they left unscathed. Interesting evening. Lord thankyou for giving me this time.

Sept 1, Saturday. Read this morning Job 40.who are we to question Gods authority, then 2 Cor. And prayed for this lost community in pain, and alcoholism affecting everyone. I was motivated to explore and hike across forest behind the lodge to a point where the trail emerges into a limestone deposit of rocks overhung by large Sitka spruce trees. Lots of scoured out and scalloped tide pools with anemones and starfish. So quiet here. I returned and Rob took me out one more time to film sea otters by Chief Rock while the tide was low and the males were gathered. Wonderful to see these amazing creatures, roll into kelp fronds, groom, sleep, play. I was so thankful for this final time with them and photographed some good scenes. We them motored out to seal rock and the light got better, haze to the north of the Brooks Peninsula, behind them the clouds cast in a grey blue tone, like a watercolor painting. The surf was pounding into the rock face where most of the Steller sea lions were gathered, bulls guarding their small territories from other bulls, while the females gathered around them. Spooked them as we got close with the wave swells really pitching the boat violently. Really an amazing spot.

Brad offered kindly to take me back to Fair Harbor before a large storm hit the coast, so loaded up the boat and explored the inlets on the way back. We motored east between the mainland to the north and Union Island, passing Fair Harbor to the head of Tahsish Inlet, then ascended the estuary of the Tahsish River. This was a beautiful protected ecological reserve with old growth Sitka Spruce bordering the sedge meadows of the estuary known as Tahsish-Kwois Provincial Park. Here there are elk, and the river full of sea run cutthroat Coho and steelhead. These huge spruce arched over the river further upstream, and the water was so clear. There was western red cedar, crabapple, and spruce all covered with lime green bearded lichens of a primary rainforest, creating a wonderful place like a fairy land with moss hanging in shrouds of lichens draping sweeping horizontal branches. Forested mountain slopes descended steeply to the river, and the old growth forest

Tahsish-Kwois Provincial Park primary forest preserve north inlet of Fair Harbor provided an estuary nursery for belted kingfishers, herons and ducks and the odd raven. Finally returned to Fair Harbor and Brad and Eric helped me load the truck up. I thanked them for a great trip back. It was a wonderful way to end the trip to Kyuquot.

Drove the really bad 90-kilometer gravel logging road back to highway 19, then drove north to Telegraph Cove on northeastern Vancouver Island. Camped near the bay and watched a beautiful sunset unfold, with the mainland mountains turning red and crimson to the east. By the next day the storm that was forecast had hit here as well creating white caps along the straits. Johnson Strait is a very diverse area for marine life because of the concentrations of tidal currents and the subsea diverse topography. Spotted the first group of Orca known as A30 along the mainland in heavy seas and wind. Once whale breached in the distance, while another spy hopped. We were north of Robson bite but crossed over the strait to Blackfish Bay where we encountered another group named A10, related matriarchally to A30. WE motored through several islets and found some protection from the wind. Pacific white sided dolphin came towards the bow for a minute, then we followed a humpback whale female and her calf.

Male Orca live about 30-40 years, with females life span reaching up to 60 years. Research is finding high levels of PCB in their fat, more in males than females. Matriarchal system where males stay with mothers. One group has been tracked for 40 years, found males only mate with another group like G o L pods. A pod individuals call like canaries, G group like donkeys, and L group calls like pigs grunting. Amazing how each group differed, and that the fish- eating groups or residents are very vocal and communicate in the channels. The transient group is mammal predators. One autopsy found the remains of a moose. Feed and attack Dall’s porpoise, and herd them into coves silently orchestrated to trap them and then kill. (also Pacific white-sided dolphins).

High winds continued but created a beautiful setting once the winds died down. Clouds now hung over the violet blue, purple and green mountains. I entered the drive back to Nanaimo in heavy rain, reflecting as I passed through Parksville the wonderful time I took Clara and Ethan here and to the coast by myself several years ago. I was thankful for this time to reflect and enjoy the rugged coast, learn of the Kuyuquot community, and come home refreshed.