| July 31, 2002 We're in Ucluelet again, that being the center of civilization for Barkley Sound. You'll recall that we came here last Friday to go through customs, although, as it turns out, customs was done entirely by radio. (They always want to have the option of boarding you and doing a stem-to-stern search -- something we've fortunately -- knock on wood -- never had to endure). We came back here this time to deliver Sid to the Laidlaw bus that took him to Port Alberni -- Nanaimo -- to the ferry -- and finally to Tswawassen, where Julie was hopefully waiting for him. Most of the people here in Ucluelet seem to be sports fishers, and there's lots of salmon being caught. The sun shone yesterday and today, and it's really quite a lovely town. You can look up any time and see bald eagles riding the wind. There are mountains across the inlet, with tendrils of fog often hanging on their shoulders. We took advantage of the sunshine (and plentiful water) to wash the boat down, and swab out the heads. Craig went to the local chandlery looking for a particular nut -- stainless steel, metric -- and was apparently met with unspoken disbelief -- no stainless steel to be had, and certainly nothing metric. Canada is obviously not entirely wholehearted in its conversion to the metric system. But on the plus side, Ucluelet does have a good grocery store, a liquor store, a post office, and very friendly people. We ate in a semi high-class restaurant last night where the food was good, but the architecture -- a mix of concrete blocks, rough cedar log beams, and blown-in, dirty looking fluffy ceiling stuff -- YIKES! I had some prawns that were breaded with coconut -- sort of a cross between prawns and macaroon cookies! Craig's big project before we left St. Helens last week was to get the Monitor self-steering gear installed. I haven't fully figured out how it works yet, but it's a big, strong stainless steel cage framework, with a windvane that sticks up into the wind, a rudder that sticks down into the water, and gears and pulleys that connect by rope to the boat's wheel. It takes up most of the boat's transom, and when it's in place, it makes the swim step at the stern pretty much useless. But Craig designed and built a custom swing-away attachment, so the whole affair can be folded out of the way on one side of the swim step. (The Monitor people wanted to know if they could have his drawings...) It works quite well, and the swim step is nearly as useful as it was before. Anyway, we did a trial of the Monitor, crossing Imperial Eagle Channel, and it worked! (I'm still not quite sure how...) We visited Wouwer Island, which is one of the very outer islands of the Broken Group in Barkley Sound. We anchored on the landward side of the island, and dinghied ashore. We found a trail through the thick forest, going to the windward side. The salal is about 8 feet tall, and it towered over our heads. The path is springy -- it feels as though there must be eight feet of duff underneath. The windward side of the island is obviously subject to the worst of the storms in the winter. Huge logs are piled on the beach like pick-up-sticks, and they're all worn down to their cores by pounding against each other. Unfortunately the beach also had plenty of empty plastic oil bottles, detergent bottles, plastic floats, polypropylene rope, and other evidence of civilization near and far. We scrambled along the shore for a bit, but the giant puzzles of logs are somewhat daunting. We never did see the sea lions we had heard barking in the distance. After we left Wouwer Island, Craig caught a ling cod, 66 cm. The minimum size is 65 cm., so there was the usual mad scramble for a tape measure, while the poor fish is flopping around. If he's not legal, you want to figure that out in time to throw him back so he can live and grow to legal size for someone else. But he was legal, so he made for a delicious dinner at the dock in Ucluelet. The ling cod has flesh the color of lime sherbet, although this one wasn't as green as some we've seen in past years. (It turns white when you cook it.) I managed to catch a cold, so we're taking it a bit easy in Ucluelet, enjoying the sunshine. Perhaps we'll head out this afternoon and find an anchorage with good possibilities for oysters... |
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| Right: 8 foot high thickets of salal on Wouwer Island. |