Friday Favourite: A Short Boating Trip

 

The weather forecast said sunny. Winds light. We packed our gear and enough food for three days and chugged off to Cabbage and Tumbo Islands. Solitude, our boat, hasn't been used much in the past few years - there was the driving trip to the Arctic Ocean one summer followed by a trip across Canada the next, and last year we went to Europe. This year we are staying closer to home and making an effort to use the boat. 

Doesn't the scene above look tropical? The water is very cold; less than 10 degrees Celsius, so no swimming for us. 

There is a lovely hiking trail on Tumbo Island, through the forest, alongside a marshy wetland, and by an old farm where buildings and rusting equipment lie drowsing in the sun. From the trail I took a photo of our boat, 25 feet, and just enough room for the two of us.

Two pairs of bald eagles provided entertainment. They swooped overhead, sometimes with small prey in their claws. Here the larger female is perched high while the male is down in the nest. We couldn't tell if there were young there or not. A few years ago we did see eaglets in this same nest. 

Oystercatchers in the evening light allowed our kayaks to approach quite close. 

Gulls of several varieties rose up in the air, swirling above us in our kayaks, filling the air with harsh screeching. I was thinking about gulls' penchant for leaving behind droppings everywhere and hoping my head wasn't a target. Luckily, we both escaped the indignity. 

Back on Solitude we watched the colours of sunset intensify and then fade into darkness before settling down to sleep on calm seas.

Home now. Unpacking and a few errands this afternoon. The wind has picked up and a bit of rain fell. I hope to spend time in the garden over the weekend. Now that May is here, everything grows much faster, including the weeds. 

Up Close with Nature

Tim and I took a couple of days away on Solitude, our boat. We chugged down the Strait of Georgia to Cabbage and Tumbo Islands, two small pieces of land jutting out of the sea. Many rocky islets, essentially reefs, stretch along the shoreline of larger islands making navigation something to pay attention to. Fat seals lounge on many of these islets, basking in sun or rain, impervious to the weather. 

Everything seems to taste better out in the fresh air. It's like having a perpetual picnic. Unfortunately, on this trip I left the eggs and milk in the fridge at home. One of my friends attributed it to "exhausted teacher brain." Could be. Anyway, I did remember the avocados so we ended up with avocado toast that was very tasty, along with bacon. So glad I didn't forget the bacon! The message on the tea tin is a good reminder to make the most of any situation.

There is a good hiking trail on the larger island, beginning with a forest path, then winding along the shore on a berm between a marsh and the beach. The grasses swayed and rustled in the breeze and Canada Geese looked very at home there. 

We stopped to watch this Swallowtail Butterfly flit from thistle to thistle. 

High in a tree on smaller Cabbage Island a Bald Eagle surveyed the landscape. We heard a lot of noise and when we looked further down the tree, we noticed a nest with two eaglets feeding.

They look ready to fledge as they were not small. One climbed onto the edge of the nest and we wondered if he was about to take off. Instead, he quickly hopped back into safety.


Benjamin Franklin writes, speaking of the United States, "For my own part, I wish the bald eagle had not been chosen the representative of our country. He is a bird of bad moral character. He does not get his living honestly." After what we saw on our trip, I have to agree with him. Majestic though the birds are, they are ruthless predators.    

On our first morning out, while preparing breakfast (without eggs and milk!), I heard a ruckus outside. On the shore a murder of crows wheeled and screamed while a Bald Eagle killed a Great Blue Heron. We sat on the boat, transfixed by what we were seeing. With his talons gripping the heron, the eagle used his beak to tear great wads of feathers that flew into the air and landed on the water, creating a trail of grey blue evidence along the shore. The heron fought, but had no chance.

After a few moments the eagle tried to carry off the heron, but it was still too big, so he tore at the flesh until it was a size he could handle, presumably carrying it to a nest with young ones. The above photo is not the greatest quality, as it was taken from a rocking boat with the telephoto zoomed out. 

Later, while we observed the two young eagles in the nest above, we saw another eagle carrying another heron, this one smaller and fully feather, its legs and neck swinging limply as the eagle flew. About 10 minutes later we saw the eagle fly over us with the bloodied carcass, now featherless. We assumed he had gone to the beach to prepare the bird for his young. 

The next morning, I saw three eagles chasing a heron. The heron wheeled and turned in desperation, flying and swooping close to the water among the boats at anchor, desperate to escape. I'm happy to say that the heron survived and the eagles left for other prey.

I enjoy watching Bald Eagles; I'm fascinated by Great Blue Herons. But one is food for the other. It was a sobering experience. Nature is often cruel.

On a happier note, the starfish have returned after being decimated by a wasting disease several years ago. They are mostly purple here, with a few pink ones for variety. 

Sunset over the water. When we are on the boat we are completely absent from life at home, not just physically, but mentally, as well. We become completely absorbed in the moments and the awe of creation. It's truly a getaway, even for just a few days. 

We celebrated Canada Day on the 1st with a barbecue with family. We didn't even stay up for the fireworks! Happy Independence Day to my American readers. 

Abandoned Dreams

One might think, traveling off the beaten path, that few people have been to certain places. But up and down this coastline of ours, all 27,200 kilometres (16,900 miles) that wind in and out of deep inlets and fjords, and around some 40,000 islands, big and small, one finds evidence of past human activity. 

Midden beaches mark the spots where First Nations harvested shellfish. Crumbling villages and rotting totem poles are all that remain from many settlements. 

From the nearer past, boarded up and falling down structures are all that's left of many people's dreams. On Tumbo Island, accessible only by boat, a house, a barn, and a tottering stone chimney bear silent witness to someone's hopes. 

Whoever lived in this cabin planted a couple of rosemary bushes that are now sprawling wildly. I picked a few sprigs and took them back to the boat. That same someone planted lavender, too, whose long spires were busy with bees. 

And who chose the colour of this door? She, or he, and I have something in common - an attraction to rosemary and lavender, this pretty blue - yet I know nothing of her. No name remains, only silent buildings and overgrown plants. 

Historical records tell us that the island was once used for coal mining (too deep), fur farming (mink and foxes), and that Chinese immigrants who worked in the mines grew a large market garden and rowed (!) the produce across the Strait of Georgia to White Rock (about 20 miles). 

An abandoned rowboat bakes in the sun. The island is now a park, although a small section is still privately owned and occasionally occupied. Remote settlements such as this became more rare as fishing and logging were commercialized and single operators just couldn't make a living.

It's a quiet place to visit. The big pleasure boats don't stop here, as the anchorage is shallow and crisscrossed by shallow reefs. Across the Strait, the densely occupied BC and Washington coastlines are visible, and tanker boats and container ships sail by regularly, but Tumbo and Cabbage Islands drowse in the sun, hardly noticed by civilization.

Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Maggie of Normandy Life.  

Off the Beaten Path

We had planned an extended boating trip for these first two weeks of July, however, with Tim's mother's passing, we had no time to get ready, and no real energy for the trip. Tim canceled all but one week of vacation and will take more later. Instead, after taking care of things here in the garden for a few days, we took a short jaunt to Cabbage Island Marine Park.

En route we saw seals, cormorants, bald eagles, and of course, plenty of gulls. 

Situated on the western edge of the Strait of Georgia, it's a bit off the beaten path. Reef Harbour lies between Cabbage Island (very small) and Tumbo Island (not quite so small). The islands are long and thin, and there are many rocky reefs to navigate. We paid close attention to our charts while the boat was pushed and pulled by strong currents. 

The first day there we hiked around Cabbage Island; it's about a kilometre - very short. The next day we visited Tumbo Island for a longer hike (about 5.5 km). We circled this beautiful bay with views to Mount Baker in the USA. Stunning, and almost tropical - in looks - the water was chilly!

A salt-water marsh to the left of the bay is home to many Canada Geese. This little family was out for a casual paddle.

When the parents saw us approaching, the goslings circled close to their mother while the father placed himself between his family and the perceived threat.

Beautiful Mount Baker seen from Reef Harbour. We could see across the Strait of Georgia to White Rock, BC, and towns in Washington State that we couldn't identify. One night, in the evening, as we were preparing for bed, we heard loud booms. Fireworks! It was July 4th! We saw a great show all along the beaches of Washington State, exploding light after exploding light, one after another, for at least 45 minutes. Beautiful! And no crowds!

Sunset over Cabbage Island. It was a welcome and needed break. Do you like to go off the beaten path? 

Linking to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Maggie of Normandy Life.