Triangle Island - Part 2

14-29 June 2007

Please enjoy this post which takes you to a place that 99.999% of the world's population will never see.

We (Marie-Claire and Roger) were on our boat at the Royal Vancouver Outstation at Scott Point on Saltspring Island. A short ferry ride from Vesuvius to Crofton on Vancouver Island brought us to the island highway. Bypassing Nanaimo and with a brief lunch break in Campbell River we continued on up the Island Highway to Port Hardy. This is a seemingly endless drive (500 km. from Scott Point). But the scenery is dramatic like this shot of the famous Seymour Narrows. In the late 1700’s Captain George Vancouver called this “one of the vilest stretches of water in the world” – and this from someone who had rounded Cape Horn more than once. One of the major hazards was the twin peaked Ripple Rock which had sunk or damaged 119 ships and caused over a hundred deaths. You can see Ripple Rock being destroyed in April 1958 in the world’s largest non-nuclear explosion.

This is still a treacherous stretch of water and should normally be transited at slack water since the tidal streams can run at up to 15 knots (about 30 km/h) and with the tide running has many whirlpools, eddies and overfalls.

Port Hardy is the southern terminus of the BC Ferries route to Prince Rupert, a trip that Roger’s children enjoyed as young kids. Pamela’s boat Precious Metal is kept there at the marina and hotel owned by her boyfriend IV. IV’s Pub has excellent halibut burgers as well as a full and delicious menu.

The marina would be Roger’s base for a couple of days. Marie-Claire drove the 500 kms back to Saltspring Island to babysit our boat for 2 weeks.

Port Hardy is a delightful town and a great base from which to explore the region by land and by sea. While it is ostensibly at the end of the Island Highway there is reasonable to excellent access to a number of small communities in the area, to Cape Scott Provincial Park , a rugged semi-wilderness park, to Winter Harbour. This is a great area to explore by car, truck or boat.

The principal challenge that Pamela and Roger would face in getting to and especially anchoring safely at Triangle Island was the wind. But Precious Metal is a well-found sailing vessel, exceptionally well maintained, with a highly competent captain. It is really a "little ship". For most of the 2 week period we would have winds from the southeast or southwest, typically over 25 knots. The night before the first day of the two week charter we motored about 20 nautical miles from Port Hardy to Bull Harbour, a safe anchorage in any winds. We moored to the first nations floats for a fee of $20 and that evening wandered over to Rumble Beach on the other side of the island – aptly named because of the noise of the rounded pebbles as they roll in the surf.

Bull Harbour is a good place to wait for the right wind and tide to cross Nahwitti Bar into Queen Charlotte Sound. The waters from Cape Scott to Triangle are relatively shallow so the swells from the open Pacific get compacted and heightened as they hit this shelving area. At Nahwitti Bar this is further complicated by even more shallow waters to the north of the bar and then rapidly deepening waters on the south of the bar. The narrowness of the passage causes a tidal stream and if the wind is against the flow of the tide Nahwitti Bar creates large standing and quite steep waves. So Bull Harbour is a good place to await the optimal time to cross.

The next morning we made an early departure. While the tide was slack we still ran into large enough swells and a, for us, rare wind from the northeast to give us an exciting ride over the bar and on towards Triangle. Anchoring about 4 hours later in South Bay, protected from the northerly wind, we discovered that there was something wrong with the newly installed motor on the windlass. It simply stopped as the anchor was being lowered. Releasing the clutch on the windlass we safely anchored – wondering how we were going to retrieve 180 feet (56 meters) of chain and a 60 lb. (30 kilos) anchor without a windlass.

Having made contact with Triangle Island by VHF radio on the way in, I (Roger) was dispatched in the dinghy to bring the BBC film crew on board. Later we might be able to post a picture of this. But for now imagine the story as it was later related to us. Rachel, a young technician in the SFU research group was wondering if there was a young Adonis who would be driving the dinghy. Instead here comes a 66 year old grey-haired guy in shorts, with spindly legs and reef walkers, who lands the dinghy at some seemingly solid kelp washed up on the beach. Off he jumps with a dramatic flourish - King Neptune returning from the sea - and sinks to his waist in clinging, cloying, dead, washed up, smelly kelp. Ta dah!!!!!

Gavin Thurston, cameraman (on the right), and Ed Charles, associate producer, come back with me for a drink and discussions with Captain Pamela about their filming plans. We know that the wind is going to change the next day to strong south easterlies which will make the anchorages untenable. Gavin and Ed decide that they will stay on the island. That’s pretty gutsy because they have been camped for two weeks on the only flat site, also sometimes used to land supply helicopters, a million years old guano dump. For the uninitiated, guano is bird droppings. For a while they wondered what was smelling in their tents. Ah the dedication of BBC filmmakers!! But staying will allow them to film what they can at the sites that are accessible to them. Hopefully they will get some decent weather and good light while we are gone. They have already walked, at a zero tide, as far around the island towards the major rookery in North Bay as they can. But the topography would not allow them access for filming. So if we get a good weather window the next time we come back, we’ll be able to dinghy them to the site.

I run them back ashore with some supplies, clean T-shirts and a delicious curry dinner, which they will share with the SFU research team.

That evening we get a call on the VHF from Dr. Mark Hipfner, the Scientific Director of the SFU research site, asking whether, since we will be returning to Port Hardy to find out why a brand new windlass motor has failed, we can take Kyle, an MSc student in biology who is in his second summer of puffin research. Kyle, originally from Ontario, has been out on Triangle for about 2 months and is going to meeting his parents for a wedding in the Kootenays. We readily accept knowing that Kyle will be another set of hands to pull up all that anchor chain in the morning.

Early the next morning, with our dinghy already hoisted aboard with some minor engine problems, Mark, Kyle and Rachel come out in their dinghy. We load up Kyle’s gear, arrange to pick up new supplies for the research team. Helicopters coming to Triangle have to have a 10,000 foot (3,000 meters) ceiling so that they are high enough to glide to a safe landing site is their engines fail. Triangle is so far out that they need that much height to have a safe glide path. The weather doesn’t look promising for several days so that’s why we’re taking Kyle back and returning when possible with supplies. Everyone pitches in and hand over hand we haul in all that anchor chain. Many hands make “lighter” work and we are soon underway.

Kyle regales us with stories of research on the island. Turns out that his hometown is where Pamela had relatives – six degrees of separation works again.

Eventually Kyle with another 50 photos of birds wears down and crashes in the bunk below. Well the puffins are nocturnal and so much of his research has to be conducted at night, so he's entitled to sleep in daytime.

Back at Port Hardy we occupy ourselves with some minor sail repair, the outboard engine and the windlass. Eventually Pamela’s local experts discover that one of the brushes in the new windlass motor has been dislodged. It had been tested several times after installation and was working fine – so it will remain a puzzle how this could happen to a brand new, sealed motor that is designed for rough service and the physical shocks of living in the bow of a boat exposed to salt water.

But now the weather at Triangle has turned nasty with southeast winds consistently at 25-35 knots (50-70 Km/hour). So we won’t be able to anchor there. While waiting in Port Hardy, Pamela arranges a ride for me on a water taxi running up to a fishing lodge to deliver a new heating boiler. Bill, the operator loves his job and can’t get enough time bashing through waves.

He just loves that white water breaking over the boat.

Along for the trip is a fascinating guy who used to have a crew that, dressed in hockey helmets, a wetsuit, knee and elbow pads and hiking boots, picked horse neck barnacles from the exposed rocks and islets along the coast in this region. As he says, the barnacles thrived in big water, so the more exposed the rocks, the better.

One of my former navy buddies, recently deceased, and his wife used to be in that business, buying from “pickers” along the coast and exporting them principally to Spain and Portugal. So I’ve heard the stories before about pickers being washed off a rock and waiting for the right wave to wash them back on. I mention their names, and of course six degrees of separation is at work again. Stefan sold the bulk of his production to Ian and Nina Rudiak and had accompanied them on a trip to Spain and Portugal.

Back in Port Hardy, awaiting suitable weather for anchoring at Triangle, we are on hand for the arrival of the Van Isle 360 sailboat race around Vancouver Island. Pamela is the chairperson of the 2400 mile (4800 km.) 2008 Victoria to Maui race so this gives her a good opportunity to recruit boats for that race. For me it’s an opportunity to look for racers who might still be racing 12 years after I stopped.

HMCS Oriole, the Canadian Navy sail training vessel (110 foot ketch) that I sailed to Alaska way back in 1963, is there.

A few racers from my era are there. And six degrees of separation – so is a former colleague from Kwantlen University College my employer for 36 years. Bob Davis , one of the race organizers, is seen here talking with one of the First Nations elders from the co-hosting community of nearby Fort Rupert.

One of the "joys" of aging is the periodic flash that not all of your cronies are still around doing crazy things like racing sailboats. Or that it is indeed almost half a century since you sailed in Oriole.

A great evening with award presentations for that leg of the race and a barbecue – and then the weather shifts.

Our repairs completed, and the weather forecasts suggesting a possible window, Pamela decides to set out for Bull Harbour to be ready to again get over the Nahwitti Bar and on to Triangle Island.

As we are sailing out to Triangle early the next day the wind continues to build from the southeast. When we raise Gavin and Ed on the VHF, we ask what South Bay looks like. They reply that it looks pretty good. But knowing their height above the water and the winds we are experiencing, we have our doubts. As we sail into the bay the wind has picked up to 25 knots and there are 5 foot swells rolling into the bay. It is pretty clear that the wind is going to build and along with that the swells. This will not be a safe anchorage tonight. It won’t even be safe to pick them up with all their gear. So we figuratively wave to them from the bay, turn around and head back to sea, initially toward a safe cove on the west side of Cape Scott. But the wind and growing swells are right on the nose and we are reduced to 4 knots of boat speed which means we won’t arrive before sometime after sunset. Pamela has scouted out potential anchorages as we came to Triangle and decides on Cox Island back towards Cape Scott. Once we get into the lee of the Cape Scott Islands, the swells drop a bit, we get a more comfortable ride and our speed increases to 7 knots. Before sunset we are anchored in a lovely cove in the lee of Cox Island and, while the wind whistles overhead most of the night, we are safe and secure.

The next morning the wind has dropped and we head back to Triangle, drop off the food supplies for the SFU research team, and pick up Gavin and Ed and all their gear. And I mean all. I had no idea how much gear they had. Some of it we’ll be sitting on for days. The weather looks good and Pamela makes the call to go around an anchor in North Bay – a good call because we are able to get them ashore filming that day.

If you left click on and expand this picture you will see that what looks like driftwood on the beach is actually over 1000 Steller sea lions.

This is the first time that Gavin and Ed have been able to get on this beach after 3 weeks on the island so it is a major event when I’m able to land them there with their cameras.

And this is what they have come to film.

Meanwhile Precious Metal sits quietly at anchor in this isolated spot. You would think there was never a breath of wind here.

The boat is frequently inspected, usually by the bulls. We have to be very careful to not disturb them. We here only to observe, not to be intrusive. The BBC nature film crews have a longstanding rule to NEVER intervene in any natural situation; even if they think that they can for example save a pup’s life they do not intervene.

They take incredible precautions to not frighten any sea lions off their sites. So every approach to a beach or rock is taken with the greatest of care.

A good afternoon of filming ends with another of Captain Pamela's outstanding meals; and with sunset we settle down for a good night's rest.

Resting with over 1000 sea lions calling 24/7 is maybe wishful thinking. If you’ve ever been in Vancouver, Montréal or Monte Carlo when the Grand Prix race cars are roaring around the course you will have a good idea of the noise of sea lions as it endlessly crescendos and dips, crescendos and dips, crescendos and ….. But what is puzzling is that we never hear any birds, even though there are millions nesting here. Ah, but did I mention that they are nocturnal? At 2:57 A.M. I awaken in the cockpit. The dull roar of the sea lions is still there. But now it is leavened by a much higher pitch – millions of birds returning from the ocean and their night of feeding, calling as they fly in, land and find their burrows to feed their nestlings.

The next day I land Gavin and Ed on some off-lying rocks so they can get panoramic shots of Triangle. This is a fun exercise, especially for them. While I have to watch the 5-8 foot (2-2.5 meter) surge and bring the dinghy in and hold it there with the engine, it is they who have to clamber ashore on miniscule platforms, pass their heavy gear up and when they’re done repeat it all in reverse order. But then they have been scrambling on Triangle’s rocks and cliffs for 3 weeks, stringing safety lines to a blind they have used for filming, and climbing out towards it during a major 60-70 knot (120-140 km/hour) storm that sent spray flying 50 feet (16 meters) in the air over their location and destroying their safety lines. So maybe this is small potatoes now.

Even though the dinghy motor has been checked out by a mechanic, the last time we were in Port Hardy, it is still acting up and can only be run at quite low revolutions without stalling. So we abort our plans to run about 2 miles out to a large rock that would give an excellent panoramic shot and decide instead to drop them near their blind. Enroute the outboard motor stops and we can’t get it restarted. We raise Pamela on the VHF and she will bring Precious Metal around to pick us up. We play with the motor a bit. Remembering that it has been smoking, we wonder whether some fuel dock has perhaps mixed outboard oil in the gas as though it were a 2 stroke engine, although it is a 4-stroke. Releasing the fuel line and holding it open with a marlin spike I discover that the fuel is quite discoloured – maybe dirty fuel has been our problem.

Pamela picks us up, and knowing that the weather is forecast to deteriorate to strong southeast winds again we head for Port Hardy. But all is not lost because within minutes we spot a couple of spouts separated by some distance. With me on the wheel, and Gavin, Ed and Pamela filming or shooting photos, a humpback entertains us for 30 minutes as it feeds around the boat. Once it comes within 20 feet of the boat dives and comes up 20 feet on the other side, giving rise to Pamela’s epic and original comment – HOLY S_IT -, to which Gavin dryly queries – “Is that a nautical term?” One shot of the humpback is on Gavin’s website. While there were two excellent fluke displays as the whale sounded no one was able to catch them on film.

Back in Port Hardy we had a couple of fun nights in I.V.’s Pub, borrowed another outboard motor and waited for the weather to change again. Then it was back to Bull Harbour again – although this was a first visit for Gavin and Ed. I think that Ed, especially, was really taken by the west coast and the trail to Rumble Beach.

The next two days we were able to anchor in North Bay at Triangle where Gavin and Ed got some excellent footage of a prolonged battle between 2 bulls, while Pamela got some great photos. The smell in the air is starting to change and the mating season is fast approaching as the females come into estrus.

The next day I drop Gavin and Ed in a cove where their blind is located. They hope to get some more footage in this excellent light and then retrieve their blind. The cove reeks, supposedly with the smell of the females, surely attractive to the bulls but not very appealing to humans.

Thinking that they will be ashore for a considerable time, I drift offshore a bit, and take a few photos of some bulls.

Their harems can be quite large depending on their ability to defend their territory and retain their females. Sometimes they can be found 40 or 50 feet above the water.

By now it was time for a little lunch and a siesta. The lunch was great but the siesta didn’t last long. Just as I was drifting off I hear Ed on the VHF – “Uh Roger, could you come in and pick us up?” They had climbed up to their old path to their blind, carrying all their equipment. The same bull who had been about 10 feet away from the path on other visits, was still there. But this time he didn’t give one roar, drop his head and doze again. This time his hormones must have been raging and he didn’t want to see anybody in his territory. “Run Ed”, said Gavin and they beat a discreet, if hasty, retreat.

And so ended our and their sojourn at Triangle. They had a lot of good footage, great memories of the friendliness, hospitality and congeniality of the bird researchers they had broken bread with for three weeks on the island, and a desire to see their families and loved ones again. I had great memories of sailing with Pamela again, her excellent meals, her seaworthy “little ship” and a couple of really congenial BBC guys with great stories. So even though “The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men/ Gang aft a-gley” (Robbie Burns), we had a great trip and “All’s Well, That Ends Well” (Shakespeare, circa 1623).

NOTE: If this has wet your appetite, don't hesitate to journey on up to Port Hardy. Use it as the base for your own personal exploration of this region even if you do it all by land. If you are more adventurous you can arrange some trips by water and while you quite rightly will not be allowed to land on any of nature reserve islands like Triangle, you can cruise near them and if the weather is right, anchor nearby.