Over months and miles in the Pacific Northwest, the benchmark for anchorage aspects is set high. What passes as average here would be spectacular elsewhere, and a FaceTime call with the crew from anyone anywhere consistently elicits view-envy on the part of the caller.
Awe
Do snowy mountains with forest capes falling in virid pleats to rocky outcrops and fathomless oceans become banal? They do not. And, once in a while, as though to remind us of the importance of awe, an anchorage still manages to rise above the rest. Such is the case with Khutze Inlet coaxing us off Princess Royal Channel.
Ten thousand years ago this fjord was scraped and scoured by the massive Cordilleran Ice Field. Now the Khutze River empties through a long saltmarsh meadow into the sea at the head of the inlet. Over time it has washed and wasted geology into the bay creating a massive mudflat, such that depths are far shallower than when they were charted in decades past.
A Leitmotif
Conservation work is overseen jointly by Kitasoo Xai’xais and Gitga’at First Nations along with BC Parks. The Guardian Watchman has not yet arrived for season. A lone known boat swings at anchor centered on the bay. We tuck Jupiter near the noisy falls and her high, thrusting cascades become the leitmotif of this astounding place.
The beautiful Surfbird has shared anchorage with Jupiter before, and adds to the already remarkable view.
The Foray
A foray is in order with a spring tide rising and a break in the rain. Our tender, Callisto, is launched and packed with water, crew and cameras. The chart indicates we might make some small progress upriver before it becomes impassable. We do better.
Distinctive and intrepid, Harlequin Ducks, Histrionicus histrionicus, are at home on the cold rushing rivers and exposed rocky shores of northern British Columbia. Their tiny squeak-like communication has earned them the cognomen Sea Mouse.
Cautiously picking our way over snags and rocks we motor far inland in our little boat, raising and lowering the engine as the winding streambed dictates, watching for bear but finding seals, listening to bird song and the sweet susurrus of the old-growth forest, smelling spruce and pining for nothing. We are entirely off the charts.
