Flowing in, flowing out.

My Captain has a new navigational focus: tides, currents, tidal rapids and “gates” are now top of mind. Twice a day, the ocean enters the fjords, canals and inlets of the Inside Waters along the coast of BC with a speed high enough to take it seriously. Twice a day the ocean retreats even faster. Our Garmin Chartplotter warns about these tidal currents with colorful arrows, from green over yellow and orange to red. 

When all that water has to move through a narrow passage, the speed is ramped up and can even reach a whopping 16 knots. The safest and sometimes the only way to pass is during slack. My Captain loves the thrill of steering O2 through narrows, after having calculated the exact time when to go for it. Me, I’m always keeping an eye on the small eddies and whirlpools while holding my breath. The deep inhale that follows the exhale once we are through is sheer delight. Not just because O2 made it safely to the other side, but also because of the nearness of the trees. We have turned into fir sniffers. The scent of British Columbia’s coastal temperate rainforests – a woody, humid fragrance of fresh fir- goes straight to one’s head. 

The first couple of days, the rain came down in many forms: from wet fog to drizzle over a soft steady shower to regular downpours. We spent those days in splendid isolation with the running water of tides, creeks, brooks, rivulets and waterfalls down basalt walls as soundtrack.

On our way to Bella Bella we spent the night near a natural hot spring . There we socialized for the first time in days with a party of happy locals. They were having a jolly good time, fishing, drinking beers and telling tall tales. They warned us about bald eagles swooping down on you as you are gutting your catch. “I looked up from my salmon only to look straight into the eye of an eagle whose wings were as wide as my boat. You can’t hear them coming. They are silent like a ghost. Its stretched out talons skimmed my face. You’d better beware.” They couldn’t believe we had come sailing from Hawaii. Their small fishing boats – a quarter in size compared to O2- were equipped with two outboard engines of 300 horsepower each whereas O2 only totals 100 horsepower. But lately, for lack of wind or wind meeting us head on – we have forcefully turned into a motor vessel ourselves.

Being a motor vessel all of a sudden, we made the mistake of fueling up in Shearwater – a resort annex restaurant belonging to the First Nation community of Bella Bella, which lies on the other side of the inlet. A guy motoring by shouted out loud “I wouldn’t want to pay that diesel bill !” Neither did we. But we had to. They surcharged us 30%, and in doing so they wiped out one third of our monthly budget.

On our way to our next anchorage, we motor sailed past Fancy Cove – what’s in a name- and that’s when we stopped dead in our tracks: 6 orcas with a tiny baby in tow were flashing their dorsal fins like submarine periscopes. We were willing them with all our might to come nearer to us, since it is strictly not done and against Nature’s rules for us to approach them. But they totally ignored us and kept peacefully cruising along the shore in the opposite direction, while we remained glued to our binoculars. High time our house photographer joined O2, which will happen soon.

Our next anchoring spot in Pruth Bay was an absolute gem with lovely trails through the woods to wide sandy beaches where both bald and golden eagles hunted for fish in the ocean. Pruth Bay used to be in the commercial hands of a fancy fishing lodge. Those guys blocked all public access to the beaches. Opening up the trails was the first thing The Haika Research Station did when they bought the place. As well as generously offering 300 MB of free WIFI per day to all boats anchored in their front yard. 

Pruth Bay is also the place where My Captain caught his first 2 salmons, thanks to heeding the professional advice received in a fishing gear shop in Shearwater. We already knew how to catch tuna or mahi-mahi. To do so, you must reach a speed between 5 and 6 knots and the lure is trawled on the surface. But for salmon, it’s quite the opposite. You must slow down to a maximum of 2 knots and weigh down the lure to a depth between 7 to 10 meters. And add “a flasher “to the line to mislead the salmon that a competitor is about to strike the same lure he is after. So, he’d better hurry up. With of all this new knowledge and his brand-new toys, My Captain went for a tour of the Bay with the dinghy. And now our freezer is packed with chinook. 

There are five species of Pacific salmon in North American waters:chinook, coho, chum, sockeye and pink. My Captain caught a chinook, also called the king salmon because it is so delicious.

We haven’t met a lot of Canadians yet, but the ones we do meet are so easy to connect with. Like the non-indigenous guy who was doing a paint job at the Bella Bella First Nations’ school that had a rather mossy totem pole in front. His hands were itching to clean it up and give it a fresh lick of paint. But he explained he’s not allowed to do that. “You know, it’s against ancient old traditions. It’s not that it is a religious thing. It’s more like spiritual. You must allow the elements to run their course without interfering. And rather sadly he added: “And when the totem pole falls, it falls.”

And we won’t ever forget about Agnes, the old Heiltsuk lady who parked her rollator next to our bench in the sun. As she was enjoying her vanilla milkshake, she told us her harrowing life story. Of how as a young girl she survived on bread and peanut butter and jam in the boarding school where at night she listened to the younger kids whimpering as they were being raped. How later she turned into an alcoholic because of it. Of the accidental death of her fourth son and the suicide of her third son. She had stayed angry with him for a long time because of what he had done to himself and to her. She nodded solemnly when she saw the sheer shock spreading over our faces. And as if to give us some comfort and relief from her pain, she brightly added that she hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol for 17 years now. And that she was looking forward to going to the wedding of her niece in Bella Bella. She had traveled to Shearwater – accompanied by yet another niece- to buy the wedding present, a rice cooker. “I was not so sure whether they are coffee drinkers or not, but everybody likes rice, right?” Right.

On a happier note, we also got to know the joyful crew of SV Playmobil, a beautiful 50-foot Fountaine Pajot, completely equipped with fishing gear as well as a fish gutting & cleaning station. They invited us on board over a delicious plate of charcuterie (which they pronounced in a very funny and endearing way, the same way English speaking folks pronounce “formidable”. Which we find formidably funny) Charlotte, the young daughter, showed us a picture of the lingcod she had caught the day before, using a “buzzbomb”. Now My Captain is the proud owner of such a buzzbomb and he has even been taught how to properly use it. I fear the moment we catch a lingcod, as it is a big, prehistoric looking creature that can swallow a fair size octopus as a whole. Charlotte’s lingcod had done so, and she showed another picture of the gutted lingcod with the intact octopus in its stomach to prove it. I’d rather stick to salmon.

Today July 26th, we have crossed our first “gate” since we left Prince Rupert. A gate is “a significant body of water that must be crossed” if you want to carry on along The Pacific Northwest from one cruising area with protected waters to the next. And that’s exactly what we want to do: carry on. We did hear wolves howl in the woods the other day, but we didn’t spot any. And the bear quest is absolutely on.