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Where Are the Wild Things?

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Got to say that as much as our recent trip to the Gulf Islands was a raging success, we were wildlife-watching failures this year. Watching wildlife both above and below the water is one of the pure joys of cruising by small boat and the southern Gulf Islands of British Columbia offer some mighty fine watching of all kinds of wild things. This year, however, the absence of some animals was more striking than the presence of others.

Vultures. We weren’t looking for them particularly, but there were lots of them.

Almost entirely missing from our trip was the ever present Bald Eagle. I was dead disappointed about this, if not downright perplexed.  I have a soft spot for eagles, considering them a special totem and I believe their presence to be an auspicious sign (except, perhaps, for their prey)  Symbolic of the archetype of Freedom (among other things) the far-sighted eagle portends good things when I spot one as a trip begins.  Six Bald eagles circled above Galapagos, talking back and forth to each other, the day we first splashed her with her new engine. So if that doesn’t prove their worth, I don’t know what does.

The magical- thinking creature inside me was perplexed, and then alarmed, as  days went by without even one small eagle sighting; not even a tiny flash of white feathered head. By the time we got to the islands, I was seriously concerned. I began looking with concerted effort, but every sentinel tree remained unoccupied, every craggy rocky outcropping was left unguarded. I wondered if the spirit of the eagle was, perhaps, leaving me. I tried to come to some acceptance, pretending to be all Zen about it, but really, I would feel the loss keenly. I’m kind of attached to their majesty and all.

No eagles at home here on Kuper Island.

Then I thought, ‘Get a grip, Melissa! This is more than just one totem going out and another still to emerge! Surely there is something in the world of… I don’t know.. maybe SCIENCE…that is happening here?’  And finally it hit me. This is September. We’ve always traveled in June, July, or August, so we’ve never been up in the islands this late. Isn’t there something about spawning salmon and rivers and eagles and migration and feeding that goes on this time of year? And yes, apparently there is. And I knew this but didn’t put it together at first. I’m slow, but I eventually get there, one synapse at a time.

This dog, Arch, liked to play 'stick'. He guards the dock at the Montague Harbor Marina.

This dog, Arch, liked to play ‘stick’. He guards the dock at the Montague Harbor Marina.

The eagles migrate this time of year to an annual eagle convention of the ‘Order of the Running Salmon’, or probably something like that. I’ll bet they feast, they celebrate, maybe wear funny hats and do secret handshakes, all the stuff.  Basically, it’s a huge eagle party. The Fraser River boasts that it’s the biggest gathering of eagles in the world. Seems like it’s a little early, but where else could they go?

So the eagles were not at home. It was a great relief to me to understand what was happening, but I really missed seeing them very much. Those bare trees just look undressed without an eagle to sit in them. And who knows what shenanigans happen on unguarded rocky outcroppings!  In the end, I spotted exactly two eagles, both on the west coast of San Juan Island on our very last day before heading home. They were close together, in fact, two flickers of white among all the green of the trees. Perhaps these eagles didn’t get the memo. Or perhaps they were being shunned; all dressed up with no where to go.

Don and his friend, Maxie. We enjoy the dogs of others while we’re cruising because Skippy hates the boat. Maxie was tired of talking and wanted to go ashore on Kuper Island.

More serious in its absence was the purple and orange sea star. There were exactly 3. In all. Three starfish in all, each of them in the tidal zone of Kuper Island.  Five years ago there would have been hundreds of starfish at any anchorage.  Our starfish are dying. Some scientists think we may lose them altogether. I hope they can come back from this wasting disease because their loss is tragic.  This, from my trip diary:

We both turned in early last night, just after sunset and moonrise. Full moon. This morning I had a nice paddle out to the light on the east side of Portland Island, then around Chad Island where I looked for more seastars and was disappointed to find none. I did see some small ones, the pale pink kind that have short and stubby arms, and also a large tunicate, but none of the ubiquitous big orange and purple stars that have always delighted me and brightened up the tidal zones.  These give such childlike pleasure in their perfect formation and gaudy colors. They look straight from the Crayola Big Box. They are sorely missed and remind me that the beauty of the natural world cannot be isolated from its animals.

This photo was taken last year at Kuper Island. Just last year there were many sea stars in the tidal zone there. This year there were two. 

No sea stars, no eagles. It was mightily discouraging and we had also seen no whales. We decided to rectify that situation. You want to see the Orcas? Go to Haro Strait in the late afternoon/early evening and look for the whale boats. They have some kind of secret way of knowing where the Orcas are feeding. There’s no guarantee, of course, but we’ve had good luck spotting them by making sure we’re in that area in the early evening. We sailed into the north part of the strait around 4:00 in the afternoon and started scanning with the binoculars. Bingo. Right off the coast of D’Arcy Island, a Prince of Whales boat just sitting in place. That means they are watching whales.

Hiram roared to life and we jigged on over in that direction mighty quick. Staying well clear we still got a magnificent view. A large male, two females, and a baby! We were able to watch them from a distance as we went back north to Stuart Island for the night. They stopped to rest at the surface, maybe tending to the young calf, by Sidney Island, then continued north. All’s right with our world when we see the whales, but keep a good thought for our sea stars.

Taken with my zoom lens, of course.

Just a small spy hop.

The little one is to the right.

Good Boat!

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We know you’ve been dying to find out how the engine performed on our trip; how that exhaust elbow stood up. Did Mike and Melissa do boat work in exotic places in British Columbia? Did the Little Cunning Plan team have to use their new unlimited towing through Boat U.S.? Did Mike perseverate on the exhaust system?  The answers are yes, no, and yes. Two yesses and a no, because we are resourceful and do our best to be prepared.

Scenes like this make boat travel worth the risk.

In this case, I was dead anxious about taking this boat very far from home with an exhaust system that was sure to fail…sometime. On the other hand, we had been taking the boat out in our local waters as much as we could, and thus far the stupid exhaust had held its ground. Which means it wasn’t broke, so why would we fix it? Still, even as we wanted to believe that it would hold for a long time, we weren’t convinced.

“What’s our Plan B?” , I asked Mike before we left.  So he made a plan. He’s cunning like that.

Before we left for the trip he stocked a repair kit of sorts consisting of supplies he got at the auto parts store. He bought a fiberglass/epoxy and wire muffler repair kit. To this he added a steel collar that could be bolted onto the pipe to hold pieces together should things go south. My contribution was a magnifying glass and a lot of praying. Our goal: have as much fun as possible before the shit hits the fan and also keep Hiram safe. 

Don’t think that my light tone implies that we didn’t take the risks seriously. We certainly did. But if you are going to have a boat and do the things we like to do with a boat, calculated risks are part of that equation. We figured we would be pushing the engine and the exhaust system pretty hard on that trip. If it failed, we’d just get it repaired wherever we were. If it didn’t fail, then we would stop worrying about it.

I had my little magnifying glass out each day, examining the weld all the way around. Days went by and I saw nothing. Then one day I thought I saw what looked like a fine pencil marking, so faint I couldn’t tell if I was actually seeing it. I talked myself out of telling Mike, thinking that it was nothing, truly not even sure it was there. That’s how faint it was, and how bad my eyes are, I guess. Mike checked with his bare eyeballs every day, or every few hours actually. We were both attentive to engine noise, always waiting for something to change. It sounds worse than it was. We just kept part of our brains in that ‘awareness’ mode you all know and love. Kind of like when you first bring a baby home and every time you walk by the crib you make sure the kid is breathing. That kind of thing.

View from under the hard dodger.

It happened when we were anchored at that lovely little beach on Kuper Island, about two days after I thought I saw what I thought wasn’t actually there. It was a Sunday. Mike went below and this time his silence just sounded different. You know, no cursing or anything like we’d had before. Just this silence that was deafening in its own way. I don’t know how I knew. I just knew.

It was cracked in the same place. Not completely broken yet, but soon it would be. Of course, we were pretty close to services where we were. There would be Ladysmith just across the water, Sidney wasn’t very far, and Maple Bay has services a well. We were not exactly in the middle of nowhere. There was a couple on a Cal 29 anchored close by who offered us the use of their car on Salt Spring Island if we needed it. We probably could have just had it fixed there. But we didn’t.

View from Sidney Spit

Mike whipped out the epoxy/fiberglass tape bandage and wrapped the thing carefully. I put on the receiving wire, which was kind of like jewelry wire only heavier so my hands knew what to do. When the epoxy cured, Mike put on the steel collar for extra holding power.

Our original travel itinerary had us going north of Gabriola Island and sailing down the Strait of Georgia. I felt strongly that karma would not deal kindly with us if we threw fortune in her face like that. It just felt like pushing our luck. So I kind of sort of insisted that we go south and start back home. We wouldn’t go home early, but we would stay close to services should we need them. Poor Mike. I felt as though I had rained on his very parade. We would have actually made it to someplace we hadn’t been before. We so want to go further north. But it was not to be.

Staged for purposes of photo because Mike had already removed it once.

Staged for purposes of photo because Mike had already removed it by the time I remembered a photo was needed.

We sailed down to Portland Island, using the engine as little as possible. Hey, babying your engine is a great way to practice your sailing skills. When we had the engine on we kept him at just the right RPM to minimize vibration. I love Portland Island, and we had a great day of sailing. So that was okay by us. We had the perfect anchorage there and settled in for a couple of days.

After our Portland Island stay, we had just enough time for a stop in Sidney to restock, then it was time to get home. We check in to Roche Harbor and began the trip back to Tacoma, again, sailing as much as possible. But damn that thing called a ‘job’, we did have a deadline for making it back.  So Hiram was fired up much of the way. Mike tested the integrity of the exhaust elbow constantly. If it was cool enough to the touch, he was testing it.  It held and held and held.

We arrived in Tacoma on Sunday afternoon after a wonderful, fulfilling trip to the islands. We docked that boat perfectly. We got her tied up and situated while the engine cooled off. Mike went below to check on Hiram. And the elbow broke. It broke all the way, as in ‘two pieces’. I am not making this up. That boat got us home with a cracked exhaust all the way from Kuper Island. It didn’t actually break in two until we were snugly, safely in our slip in the marina. Hiram was safe.

Good boat. Really good boat.

A really Good Boat.

 

How to Gain Two Sizes in Two Weeks the Easy Way

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When we go on vacation, we take a vacation from everything including cell phones, laptops, and reasonable diets. If you want to gain weight really fast, live on a boat for two weeks. I know, it’s counter-intuitive. One would think with all that glowing exercise, weight would simply peel off.  If you believe that, I have some property in Florida…  No, my friends. Sailing the Gulf Islands consists of short bursts of activity and ladder climbing interspersed with hours of reading, sleeping and eating. There is the occasional hike, or slow perambulation. Falling into the water doesn’t count as an activity. This is a recipe for disaster but it sure is delicious.

After our circum-perambulation of Portland Island.

After our circum-perambulation of Portland Island.

First, there is the alcohol. At home, a mixed drink is a rarity. It would be empty carbs. Plain and simple. But somehow in my mind, ‘vacation’ is the same as ‘celebration’ and there is delicious vodka left over from Claire’s ‘Welcome Home’ party, so it goes on the boat. Here is my recipe for the perfect Lemon/Lime Drop Martini in case you, too, could use a couple of extra inches around the gut.

1 part vodka (or 1 cup, if you will)
1 part lemon or lime juice (another cup)
½ part sugar syrup (1/2 a cup)
½ part Triple Sec (another 1/2 a cup)
ice; Shake shake shake  Pour into tumbler. Repeat. Serves two, sort of.

While you are drinking that, let’s talk about what to make for dinner. Galapagos has no refrigeration yet. But we like cold drinks and fresh fruits and vegetables. So we use the fridge as an icebox. Just like at home, as foods begin to ‘need cooking’  we get a little creative with our combinations. When the broccoli began to scream for attention, I whipped this up in a hurry.  I wonder if it would be just as good without the potatoes, which I never even think about cooking with at home. Naw. It probably wouldn’t.

Eggless Skillet Fry

Fresh-ish broccoli
1/2 onion, chopped or sliced
some small orange and red peppers, or large ones – whatever you have handy
hash browns left over from breakfast
bacon – because it makes every single thing better

Fry bacon in skillet, extra crisp, remove bacon and set aside. Leave the fat in the skillet. Why waste a good thing? Stir fry vegetables on terribly hot.  Salt and pepper for flavor. Less salt, due to bacon. At last minute add rehydrated hash browns, stir fry until hot, then add crumbled bacon. Serve. Outstanding after a long day of motoring and sitting on your hind end, especially if dinner at 9:00 pm, just before bed. Maybe add a few red pepper flakes? Don’t blame me if you need larger pants after this. I warned you fair and square. For dessert? Fresh fruit and yogurt. One needs to make some sort of effort here.

Island Bounty

On the lighter side, sometimes when hiking you can take advantage of the bounty of nature. Such is the case on Portland Island, where there is an old orchard, and loads of blackberry bushes.  There is something about harvesting fruit like this that is soul satisfying. I look forward to Portland Island every year, partly because of the berry/orchard combination. We ate blackberries fat and juicy from the vine.

Beautiful apples from Portland Island. Organic, delicious.

This year, the apples were almost completely ripe. If we had longer sticks, the riper ones at the top of the tree would have been within reach. As it was, I had a longish piece of driftwood to use, left thoughtfully at the base of a tree by another scavenger. I filled my bag with apples, stuffed a few into Mike’s backpack. My plan: applesauce.

Portland Island Applesauce

As many apples as you can carry
Water
Sweetener of choice – honey, sugar, stevia, whatever

Cut up the apples, put them in your large pot. Add water about 1/2 way up the apples. Cook until the consistency you adore. Add sweeteners as it cools. You can also add spices such as cinnamon and cloves.

Ready for sweeteners.

 I discovered that, unlike my supermarket variety of apples, these have LOTS of pectin in them. They would make a fabulous pie (next year). So you may have to keep adding water as they cook. If you go to Portland Island in the late summer or fall, bring some canning supplies, or at least a pie crust.

Here’s one thing I did with this applesauce:

Peanut Butter Applesauce Spread

A cup of warm applesauce
1/4 cup, or whatever, peanut butter

Mix well with a spoon. Lick spoon. Delicious on crackers of any variety.

The bounty of the land! I will bring more jars next year. And maybe my canning pot.

Best Tacos Ever

Recently, we were nominated for the Liebster Award and we had to name our favorite restaurant. I’d like to correct my answer. I now consider Village Tacos, on Galiano Island to be my favorite restaurant.  Who needs Mexico when it comes to great tacos?

We discovered this little gem during a long walk down the main road from the marina. There was this place, set back from the road, that was a house that looked like it had an outdoor dining room. This little sign was by the side of the road:

Who could resist this?

From my notes in the Cruising 2014 diary: It’s a ‘farm to table’ place and all the food is fresh, local, whole, and delicious. I had the buttermilk chicken tacos, Mike chose the chorizo tacos. We had bay laurel iced tea – delicious tea with a bay laurel leaf in the glass. I would not think of this but it was lovely. The chips were crisp and thin, made there. The salsa thick and spicy. Not too hot. Hand made corn tortillas, thin, and delicious, full of ripe corn flavor. I don’t know about Mexico, but Galiano Island is now famous to me for its tacos.

Just the right combination of tastes and textures, with a beautiful presentation.

Want to know what else they have?

And the service is also excellent.

This was our one and only ‘eating out’ during the trip. So worth it, and probably the healthiest meal I had in two weeks. Now that we are back to our regular lives, the piper must be paid. Ugh. Back to the old ‘being careful’.  In my next life, I plan to have a high metabolism, be naturally thin, and love all forms of tortuous exercise. I can’t wait.