Summer Cruise Aboard "Jubilacion" 2017

The rain was relentless during our stay at Bottleneck.  In between rain cells, however, I managed to get a few photos on my paddles. 

 

 

Thanks to Elizabeth Gilbert, I have a new appreciation for moss, which is why this moss- covered rock face caught my eye.  Did you know that moss eats rock?  Over centuries, moss can turn a rock face into gravel.

 

 

Some of the trees have moss growing on them, and parasites or ferns thriving on top of the moss.

 

I did manage to scare up this pair of Loons.

 

 

I spotted this water-logged eagle high up in a tree one day.

 

 

While I was checking out the little waterfalls the rain was creating, some movement in the tree branches nearby caught my eye.  This Varied Thrush was enjoying the last of the summer elderberries.  I’d never seen this beautiful little bird before.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Near one of the waterfalls I spotted something very small.  I zoomed way in, but whatever it was was so small and moving so fast that it took forever for me to find and focus in on what turned out to be a busy little Winter Wren.  Its body didn’t look much bigger than a walnut.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We’re on our way to Bottleneck Inlet, just 3 miles south of here.  It looks like the whales have moved on since we were here a month ago.  We don’t see even one spout in Finlayson Channel. 

We noticed that the twin waterfalls in Finlayson, opposite Bottleneck, were really roaring after all the rain we’ve had lately.

 

 

In about 30 minutes we were anchored up in Bottleneck, just as the rain started to get really serious.  The rain never let up all day.

 

 

On my first morning in Wallace Bight Loon I spotted an Osprey perched on an old snag, enjoying the morning sun.

 

 

 

It was a beautiful sunny day, and it was low tide, so I decided to paddle outside the lagoon and check out the tidal rapids in the east end of the Wallace Bight.  We actually entered this channel at high tide in Jubilacion many years ago, before electronic charts, thinking we were entering the lagoon.  Hard to believe we managed to get in and out without hitting a rock.

 

 

 

Each day I paddled the perimeter of the entire lagoon, looking for photo ops.  There weren’t many birds around, other than this Loon, who was very adept at dodging me.

 

 

And this pair of Loons who seemed to be performing a ballet.

 

And, I found this female Mallard feeding in a shady cove.

 

 

 

There were two pair of Murrelets that fished the lagoon all day long. 

 

 

 

 

When I couldn’t find any birds, I checked out the rocky shoreline for Sea Stars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While admiring the Sea Stars, I spotted Sea Urchins just a couple of fee below the surface of the water.  Needless to say, with my inflatable kayak, I steered clear of the Sea Urchins.  They were beautiful, but dangerous.

 

 

I had been reading a novel by Elizabeth Gilbert, called The Signature of All Things, in which the main character is a bryologist (an expert on mosses).  A bryologist would be in Heaven in this area.  There are probably thousands of different mosses here.  I couldn’t help taking a photo of this rocky slope, covered with lots of different mosses, including a beautiful rosy variety.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This morning, we were headed down Thistle Passage on our way to Wallace Bight Lagoon when Al shouted, “Wolf on the beach!”  I grabbed my camera and frantically searched the shore.  I knew he wouldn’t be hanging around long.  Finally I spotted him.  He wasn’t black like the wolf in Quigley, and he looked really undernourished, poor guy. 

 

 

 

In Meyers Passage, we encountered an Indian canoe.  I noticed they had a cedar wreath draped on the bow. 

 

 

 

 

They gave us an oar salute as they passed.

 

 

This Kingfisher was kind enough to sit still long enough for me to get this shot while passing through Meyers.

 

 

We anchored in the north end of the lagoon near what looked like a seagull convention.  I spotted a couple of Red-necked Grebes cruising the area.

 

 

 

 

 

At high tide, I paddled up the creek, thinking I might be able to get a lot farther up.  The creek was a lot wider, so it wasn’t quite as spooky.  The storm clouds were pretty spooky, however. 

 

 

Just passed where I’d turned around yesterday, I discovered this lovely waterfall.

 

 

This Kingfisher was hanging out nearby.

 

 

When I got around the next bend, it was obvious I wouldn’t be able to get very far upstream, even on a very high tide.  I was running out of water, and I could see huge boulders just below the surface.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There’s a really low tide this morning, so I decided to land my kayak on the mud flats and take a look around. 

 

 

 

I noticed something that looked odd, like a bunch of snorkels. I felt them and they didn’t feel like plants.  What on earth were they?  Could they be siphons?  It’s a mystery.

 

 

Then, I spotted some Moon Snail egg collars.  The Moon Snails lay their eggs in these collars.   The eggs are sandwiched between two layers of sand cemented together by mucous secretions.  The collars look like rubber.

 

 

 

 

I was really excited, because I’ve never seen Moon Snails anyplace other than St. John Harbour.  After looking a little farther up the beach, I found the Moon Snails.  These are very large shells, about 5 inches in diameter, and the foot, which is edible, is enormous.

 

 

 

There were lots of pretty colored cockles also.

 

 

And there were millions of mussels, fields of them.  I’d never seen anything like it.

 

 

 

 

 

I love mussels, so it just kills me that we can’t eat them because of the fear of paralytic shellfish poisoning.  Oh, well.  Someone needs to design an inexpensive PSP test kit.

At the far end of the mud flats I saw some Canadian Honkers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As soon as they spotted me, they took flight, headed upstream.

 

 

 

 

 

Today is the beginning of spring tide, so we knew we’d have a really low tide this morning.  Al anchored us in 60 feet of water.  We only draw about 3.5 feet of water, so that seemed more than adequate. However, judging by the fact that I could clearly see the bottom, clam shells and lots of eel grass looking down at the water off our swim step,  I think maybe 70 feet of water would have been better.

 

 

 

 

I yelled at Al to come up and take a look at what low tide looks like in Weld Cove.  He couldn’t believe it.  I took the unextended boat hook to see if I could touch the bottom before Al fired up the engines.  The depth finder was recording 3 feet of water.  We draw 42 inches.  It was close, but we were still afloat.

It was still raining, but luckily the wind had lightened to about 10 to 15 knots, so our trip down to Quigley was a piece of cake.  The weather is supposed to be nasty for the next few days.  Quigley will be a much safer place to be, we hope.

When we got to Quigley, the wind had dropped to nothing and the sun was out, so I launched my kayak and went exploring.  The tide was too low to get up the river very far, so I poked along the shoreline, admiring the colorful lichen and fungi that cover the rocks.  The colors were beautiful. They looked like abstract art.

 

 

 

 

I have no idea what these are, but they were very colorful.   I’ll have to do some research on Google.

 

 

 

 

 

While I was busy taking pictures of the things growing on the rocks, out of the corner of my eye I caught something scurrying over the rocks.  It was a mink!  He stopped and looked at me.  I very slowly got into a position where I could get a shot of him, hoping he wouldn’t bolt like minks usually do when they see me.  He stared at me.  You could almost see the wheels turning.  “What the heck is that?” 

 

 

And then he went back to scurrying over the rocks looking for breakfast, but stopping now and then to keep tabs on me.  It was like a game of Hide and Seek, with me paddling back and forth wondering where he would appear next, and hoping I wouldn’t scare him off.  He gave me a real work out.

 

 

 

 

 

I finally gave up on our little game of Hide and Seek and headed out to investigate the various islets in the area.  This Kingfisher seemed to be begging to have his photo taken, which is unusual, because they usually take off just as I almost have them zoomed in.

 

 

This seemed to be my lucky day, because just as the Kingfisher flew off, I spotted this deer.

 

 

Mrs. Deer took one look at me and she was outta here.

 

 

I continued upriver just to see how far I could get before running out of water.  I was close to shore, hoping to find another mink, when I looked up and saw a big black wolf  come out of the trees about 100 feet ahead of me.  He turned around to check me out as potential breakfast.  Apparently he had bigger fish to fry, because he turned back around and continued upstream.  Unfortunately, I was in shock and shaking too hard to get my camera out and get a decent shot of him.  But, on the positive side, I hadn’t become that wolf’s breakfast.

I continued upstream, slowly, paddling as far from shore as possible, until I finally ran out of water.

 

 

 

 

 

As I was turning around, I heard something.  Was it a wolf call?  Nah.  Must be my imagination.  Probably just a bird.  But, then I heard it again, louder, closer.  I stopped paddling , making sure I was in the center of the creek and called Al on the VHF to make sure he heard all the howling.  Then I heard a whole cacophony of howls.   The whole pack was howling up a storm.  Al said, they must be getting close to their prey.  The howling went on for quite some time.  Very eerie.  I felt a lot more comfortable when I finally made it back to the mouth of the creek.

I found some more interesting lichen on one of the islets, while I was taking a shot of Jubilacion.

 

 

 

A beautiful Great Blue Heron flew over and landed in a tree not too far away.  I really wanted to get a shot of him, because herons in trees are always beautiful.  So, I paddled very slowly toward him, just barely moving my paddle, until I was able to get close enough to get these 100X zoom shots before he flew off.

 

 

 

 

I was surprised to see a boat headed for the creek, so I paddled over to see what they were doing.  It turned out to be a Coastal Guardian Watchmen boat.  Maybe they were checking on salmon.  Hard to say.  They didn’t get very far.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After listening to the weather report last night, it looks like we’re going to have to pass on Bay of Plenty this year.  There’s a huge storm forecast to hit this afternoon, so we’re going to have to ride it out in Weld Cove, just south of Bay of Plenty.

When we got to Weld Cove, the wind was gusting up to 30 knots, but there was no fetch and we were anchored in only 60 feet of water, so we were very comfortable.  They were reporting winds up to 60 knots out in Laredo Sound.

  

Since I want to be at Bay of Plenty during the next spring tide, we’ve decided we’d better move on to Fifer Cove today, just 12 miles up Laredo Inlet.

It’s raining when we arrive at Fifer, but I decide to go for a paddle anyway.  The creek from Bloomfield Lake empties into the head of the cove.  As you can see, you can look right through from Fifer Cove into Bloomfield Lake.   Unfortunately, however, the creek is too shallow to get to the lake by boat.

 

 

An eagle was hoping to catch a salmon that might be trying to swim up the creek.

 

 

 

Since I couldn’t get up the creek, I decided to check out the shoreline.  I found lots of little waterfalls because of all the rain we’ve been having. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I headed back to the mud flats this morning, at low tide, to see if I could find any photo ops.  Right at the shoreline I spotted these Green-winged Teals.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I continued paddling up the creek and came across this Yellowlegs.

 

 

Hiding back in the tall grass I spotted a couple of Sandhill Cranes.