Sailing to Princess Louisa Inlet - Part IV: Relax and Explore

Note:  For earlier entries in this trip log, scroll down or click on an entry at the left of this page.

We awoke in Princess Louisa to our own little world.  Already boxed in on three sides by formidable mountains, our anchorage was now blanketed by low cloud.  It had the effect of transforming a soaring and expansive environment into a closed and cozy one.  Some might find this confining or even claustrophobic.  To me it was reassuring.

Gradually our little seven-boat community began to wake up.  People with steaming mugs of coffee began to walk the length of the dock, hair still tussled and eyes sleepy.  We chatted and speculated about the day's weather.  Most were happy to accept the dense cloud - it only enhanced the feeling of being apart from everything else - a feeling that boaters of all strips inevitably crave.

Eventually though, the sun began to burn away our canopy of cloud and in places it would peek in and illuminate the dock  and surrounding area as though it was a stage in an otherwise darkened theatre.  It was truly some of the most surreal natural light I have ever seen and it continued to evolve as we sat and chatted.  Soon the direct sunlight began drawing steam from the moist dock and it rose in etherial wisps as we talked.

Eventually we made breakfast and once we were done we set out to explore.  There is a rugged trail that leads from Chatterbox falls up the steep mountainside to an old trappers cabin.  David and I set out with our day-hikers looking forward to some exercise.  Before long we came to a sign that warned of treacherous conditions on the trail, advising all but the most experienced hikers to stay away.  Normally neither of us would be deterred by this but a few more steps validated what the sign had warned:  The trail immediately turned into a scramble over steep rocks for as far as the eye could see.  It had been raining off and on for days and the rock looked slick and moss covered in places.  We promised ourselves we would follow this trail - just not today.

Back at the boat I occupied myself by rowing out in the dinghy to explore and take pictures from a different vantage point.  I glided into the mist of Chatterbox Falls and played with the settings on my new camera, most of which remain a complete mystery to me.  I took pictures of Ge'Mara from the water and then rowed over to one of the waterfalls that fell from the mountainside.  I later learned that in Princess Louisa one should never approach a waterfall that has a dinghy lingering beneath it as the occupants are liable to be naked and taking advantage of a fridgid freshwater shower.

On my return to the dock, David had the barbecue going to make burgers for lunch.  With that done, we decided to move to a different part of the park about half way between the entrance at Malibu Rapids and where we were.  BC parks had installed some mooring buoys next to MacDonald Island so we thought we would spend the next night there rather than at a dock with boat neighbours.  We motored slowly over and before long we had tied to a mooring buoy and were enjoying our new, even more secluded environment.  I had to laugh at David, as he struggled much more with the mooring buoy this time in absolutely perfect conditions than he had on his first attempt over a year ago in Plumper Cove - in driving rain and high winds.

The nearby terrain was not nearly as steep as it was near Chatterbox and there was an unoccupied summer camp on the shore so we opted to row over in the dinghy and explore.  We walked around the well-kept camp buildings and commented that this would be a wonderful summer camp for anyone.  The tide was low and exposed huge beds of beach oysters.  David pointed out the interesting looking birds with long orange beaks called oyster catchers.  We also tromped through the bush, following a dried creek bed for a time.  Everywhere we went we saw reasonably fresh animal droppings and we speculated what kind of animal it might be.  I looked around and fancied that somewhere that animal was watching us from a distance.

We figured out where all the animal droppings were coming from

Oyster Catchers

Back on the boat we opened a bottle of wine and got the barbecue started.  As we chatted, David suddenly pointed to shore and we both had the answer to our earlier question.  There, lumbering around foraging was a sizeable black bear.  By this time we had burned through our first bottle of wine and were on to number two.  Thus emboldened, I got in the dinghy with my camera and rowed towards shore, hopeful of a better photo of the bear.  Perhaps fortunately, the bear wanted no part of this and disappeared into the forest before I could get close.  As a consolation prize I got a decent shot of a pair of oyster catchers.