dire situation

Walking by Rushbrook docks yesterday, Ty turned to me very seriously and confided "Not having a boat in this town is a sin.  It's like having your hands tied up with a bowl of ice cream in front of you."

If you know Ty and ice cream, apparently our lack of boat is a very dire situation. I don't think I've ever seen him look quite as concerned.

Luckily, we've had some lovely people take us out on the water lately.  Stay tuned for that post when I get around to writing it.  As a preview, this is Ty's face on a boat.  So HAPPY!

of dilated pupils and 125 year old boardwalks

So here is a little, crucial life tid-bit that NOBODY told me:  When you go to get your eyes checked they put some crazy drops in them and dialated your pupils to the size of pennies which means you CAN'T. SEE. ANYTHING.

Ok, ok, that is being a bit dramatic, but seriously, if you get this done, your life will be blurry for a good 2-3 hours.  You will pretty much be useless.  This is a vital piece of information that perhaps the bloody optometrist should TELL YOU when you make an appointment to get your eyes checked.  Especially when you tell her you haven't had your eyes checked in well over 10 years.  Alas, she did not, so I found myself floundering at approximately 9:45am last Friday in the optometrist office feeling like I was underwater without a scuba mask.

This would not have been a big deal except a) I was supposed to be working and b) I was supposed to drive out to the North Pacific Cannery in Port Edward for a meeting.  This is about a 20 minute drive away and I couldn't clearly make out the wall 4 feet across the office from me, let alone safely operate a vehicle.

Crap.

Very luckily, I had the wonderful Tess working with me last week, so as I flew back into the office (in a similar flourish of chaos and swearing as I had left as I'd actually completely forgotten about the eye appointment in the first place until they called wondering where the hell I was), I was able to toss her my keys and we hit the road.  That was after she had stopped laughing at me because apparently SHE KNEW this was going to happen and also had not warned me about my imminent blindness

We arrived at the cannery to meet with the manager there, who is organizing a community event later this spring.  Luckily we are new friends, so I was able to explain the reason I looked like I was as high as a kite and also why I needed to wear my sunnies even in the dark and shadowy buildings.

The North Pacific Cannery is a super cool place.  It opened in 1889 and was once the foremost packer of sockeye salmon in the world.  Unlike many canneries on our coast which have since fallen to ruin, the North Pacific Cannery has been preserved as a National Historic Site to exhibit and interpret the history of this once pivotal industry in British Columbia. Check out their site here.

Now I am quite certain that I will visit this place many more times during my time up here- so I will save more stories of its history until then.  What I will share with you is the few phone-photos I shot whilst stumbling around in my blurry haze.  To be very honest, I couldn't see my screen at all, so I was snapping photos totally blind and really just took them as a record to check back on later (just to make sure the whole scene wasn't a total dream). Therefore, what I saw looked nothing like this at all and looked more like a blurred watercolour Monet, but either way, it's a very picturesque place.

wait 5 minutes...

It's finally spring!  Sort of.

Part of my north coast education has meant learning that end of march does not equal cherry blossoms (sad) and instead, it means weather with a severe multiple personality disorder.

The moto these days: "Don't like the weather? Wait five minutes."

On the first day of spring, I was lucky enough to have my colleague and friend, Tess, visiting.  We snapped a few photos outside my office window to illustrate the meteorological madness.  In a matter of 8 hours, we peeped out the window to see snow, rain, hail, and blazing sun.

The other saying around here when the weather gets nutty is "The herring must be in".  Don't worry, I was perpelexed too and did my fair share of mmmm-hmmm-yes-fake-head-nodding-like-I-know-what-you-mean.  But someone finally explained that the weather is often insane in March, and this also corresponds to when the herring begin to concentrate and spawn.

I thought it might have meant something like this:

Yes, I'm aware these aren't herring and Prince Rupert looking nothing like this.

saviour fish

Sometimes you need a fish to save the day.

Ty's birthday dawned grey and drizzly.  Not the weather we had hoped for.  Our gusto to head out on a day of outdoor adventures felt dampened and we were inspired to do little other than eat a large breakfast, drink too many cups of coffee and  listen to records (I even let him listen to The Wall since it was his special day- our disparate views on Pink Floyd may be the largest point of contention in our relationship).  But by noon, with the false enthusiasm of someone who just wants to crawl back into bed, we attempted to make the most of the special day headed off into the rain.

The weather was not the only thing stacking against us.  Our next stop was Diana Lake to do a little hike, but not only did we arrive in rain to find that the trail was still covered in a foot of mushy, crusty snow, but also full of recent wolf poop. Wolf poop = wolves (see, my biology degree is useful).  I picked up a pokey looking stick as defense, but we ended up shortening our hike to a bit of a walk due to the nasty walking conditions and, ultimately, my scaredy-cat-ness.  I'm not scared of wolves for my own safety, but have heard too many accounts of attacks on dogs and while Mr. Mase is a big guy, he'd be no match for multiple wolves. I concluded (quite correctly, I might say) that having our dog, the most important thing in the world to Ty, attacked by a wolf was not the stuff of fabulous birthdays.

Wolf poking stick, obviously.

Feeling a bit bummed that the day wasn't working out as we'd hoped, our last ditch at saving the day came down to a fish.  And not just any fish, a saviour fish.

Heading up the Skeena again, we were looking for eulachon activity.  Eulachon (also know as ooligan, oolichan,candlefish and saviour fish) is an anadromous smelt. Best birthday EVER!

What all birthdays need: Interpretive Signage!!

But really, eulachon are exciting.  As the first pulse of nutrition available after a long winter, eulachon are a major food source for both wildlife and First Nations around the rivers that support runs.  Birds and marine mammals (seals and sea lions primarily) crowd into the rivers to feast on the concentration, bringing a flurry activity to the still icy Skeena.  First Nations harvesters can also be found along the shore.  Eulachon are not only the first source of fresh food in many months, but due to their extremely high oil content, can be rendered into grease.  This grease was an incredible trading commodity between nations.

Searching the drizzly Skeena for signs of action

Despite the rain, we did manage to find a frenzy of bird activity (happy birthday, you're welcome!). While my photos don't do it justice, we sat beside the road cheering as we watched the hoard of gulls reeling in the air and then diving into the water only to alight again with the slender fish in their beaks!

We stopped beside a bridge to watch some fishing, chatting with a few of the fishermen.  I was surprised to see that they harvest the fish by dipnet- and even more surprised to see that almost each scoop had a fish or two in it. I could do little but imagine the swarms of slippery, slender fish that must be present underwater for this method of fishing to be effective.

Unfortunately, eulachon are in trouble.  Of the three designatable units identified in B.C., two are listed as endangered (Fraser and Central Pacific Coast).  As a child, I can remember a time when the  Fraser near our home was full of sea lions feeding on eulachon, an event that no longer occurs off of New Westminster because of the sharp decline in that population.  The Skeena/Nass unit is faring slightly better and but is still  listed as Special Concern.  In other words, saviour fish around the province need a little saving of their own.

Nonetheless, the fish were found, the day was saved. We headed back into town for a pint over looking the water.

And, yes, I am available to plan your birthday.  ;)

PS.  My photos are kind of crap, but a couple of wonderful local photographers, Arianne and Mike ('From the Treehouse') took some stunning photos of action on the Skeena this month...check them out here.

digby 1.0

February was an incredible month here.  We saw more sun than rain, had dry feet more than wet, and as a result, spent as much time outside as possible.  I'm not sure if this is normal North Coast winter weather and everyone just lies about it to try and keep people away, or if it's been out of the ordinary, but whatever it was...it was grand.

One of our weekend adventures was a day trip over to Digby Island.  I call this trip 'digby 1.0', as I am sure we'll visit many more times while living up here.  It's charming.  Digby is the island across the harbour from Prince Rupert.  It has a few things going on- including the airport and the small communities of Crippen Cove and Dodge Cove.

Scenes from the ferry

There are a few ways to make your way over to the island, but for this trip, we took the free airport ferry.  Free!  Nothing is free anymore.  We were stoked.  The ferry workers were also pretty keen on Mase, who loved the attention.

After 15 minutes we were on the other side and directly off the ferry is the beginning of the trail.  It starts off as a pretty walk though the woods and leads you towards Crippen Cove.  We bypassed Crippen on the way there and continued on towards Dodge Cove.

 The trail then leads you towards the hydro rightaway and you follow this to continue through some muskeg.  We hadn't even though of it, but we were so lucky to go during a cold snap and the ground was frozen.  Had we gone during a wetter or warmer time, I am sure this section is utterly mucky.

Dodge Cove was the end of the line for us this day.  It's a small community that has a very Gulf Island-esque vibe. There are no paved roads, and people appear to use golf carts as the preferred mode of transport.  Unfortunately, after a quick picnic, we needed to head back as we wanted to make sure to catch the airport ferry home.

Looking across towards Rupert 

Dodge Cove

After our first trip, we learned that there is a water taxi that does the run from Rupert right to Dodge Cove.  We will most definitely use it to return some time soon- there are several trails that leave from Dodge Cove that we hope to explore and apparently the CBC tower hill blooms with yellow daffodils in April.

On our hike back, we popped into Crippen Cove.  Even smaller than Dodge Cove, it's a little settlement of  ramshackle homes.  To be honest, it was a bit eerie.  Some of the buildings are in great disrepair and falling apart.  We didn't want to tresspass on anyone's property, so we sort of skirted around the outside.  After deciding that it didn't appear that anyone was there, we noticed a single bulb turn on in a house.  Ty and I looked at each other and busted a move out of there.  It all felt a bit too Blair Witch-y to me.

All in all, a great little day.

Apologies for the overload in photos, it was too pretty not to be super snap-happy.  And...to end it off: my two loves waiting on the beach for the ferry home.  I couldn't resist one more...

ferry island faces

A few weeks ago when Ty, Mase and I ventured along the magnificent Skeena, we were on our way to Terrace for a little day trip.  A highlight of our little venture inland (besides the delish lunch we had at Don Diego's) was checking out Ferry Island.

I love how the aspens made a bit of a tunnel

On paper, Ferry Island doesn't sound too special - a park within town limits that hosts a municipal campground, picnic shelter, and playground.  But venture on to the trails and you'll find that Ferry Island holds a little bit of (not so) secret magic.

There are over 50 faces are carved into the cottonwoods of Ferry Island.  Created by local artist Rick Goyette, the faces take advantage of the cottonwood's craggy bark.  Each one is different and the experience of searching them out adds a certain amount of Easter Egg hunt excitement to an otherwise nice walk through the woods.  While the faces are almost a bit creepy when you inspect them in detail, nestled into the trees, the effect is more mystical than sinister.

It was quiet in the park the day we walked through.  I like to imagine that the faces come to life afterwards and gossip  about the people that pass them by.  I bet they snickered at our poor observation skills as well...we only found half of the supposed 50 that are there.  We'll have to go back to search them out.