southbound sail

At the end of April I had a suite of meetings to attend on the northern end of Vancouver Island and thus had the chance to cross another activity off my North Coast Bucket List - taking the ferry down the coast.

Confession:  I love ferries

I know, I know, it's almost sacrilege to say considering how much British Columbians love to complain about BC Ferries, but the truth is, I adore a good ferry ride.  Love' em.  (Admittedly I've never lived somewhere where I relied on one for day-to-day life, which I am sure takes the romance of them pretty quickly, but I've probably taken 100s of ferries in my life and I still love them).

The trip from Rupert to Hardy is the grand-daddy of all BC Ferries trips so I was extra excited in the days leading up to it. That being said, besides booking myself a reservation, I didn't do too much research into what the trip would entail and what I should bring.  In my usual last-minute fashion, I posted a quick question on Facebook asking people what the must-haves for the trips were.  It was a bit silly, considering I was already at the terminal and couldn't do anything about it, but in case you were curious, here is what I got in response: Gravol, Night vision goggles to look for blows, Alcohol, Know where the liferafts are, A flask, A cabin.  I had none of the above.  Dammit.

Feeling like a rookie (no flask!), I twiddled my thumbs at the terminal for what seemed like an eternity.   The waiting an eternity part was also my fault.  The truth is, I am am a total goody-goody when it comes to check-in times.  It was a Tuesday in late-April, so of course the ferry was not busy.  None the less, since BC Ferries recommended that you get there 2 HOURS before this sailing, I insisted that Ty drop me off promptly at the time stated on my ticket.  And then I sat there.  For hours.  I'm sure in the summer when the sailings are busy, it's a good idea to get there with plenty of time to assure your reservation, but in April, trust me, this is not the case.

At last, it was time to board.

All aboard!

We had a spectacular day for our sailing, and as we left Rupert, I had a little hint of what it must have felt like to take a bit trans-Atlantic voyage from Europe to North America.  Everyone was out on deck, taking pictures, exploring the ship, looking excited.  But by 'everyone', I mean the 20 or so people that were on the sailing. Seriously, it was dead.  I was shocked by how few people were on board. The crew probably out-numbered the passengers 2:1.

Leaving Rupert

Scenes from the sail

Leaving the harbour I started humming a little earworm that stuck with me the entire trip.  Ridiculously, it only started because I am terrible with song lyrics (ask my sister) and I always sing the wrong words. I somehow mixed up Rod Stewart's  "Will I see you tonight, on a downtown train"...as "I will see you tonight, on a southbound train..."which seemed fitting for my southbound sailing despite the fact that I wasn't on a train and well, they were the completely wrong lyrics.  None the less, it provide my inner soundtrack for the entire 17 hour journey.  Good ol' Rod.

Now you're humming that song, right?

Haha. You. Are. Welcome.

Incorrect lyrics aside, the evening aboard was quite lovely.  The lack of people on this sailing meant you could pretty much have any area of the ship almost completely to yourself.  I spent time on deck enjoying the sun and searching for whales, taking pics, having a beer (why don't all ferries have beer?), reading a magazine and generally enjoying myself.

Beer on board a ferry! Sweet!

The Rupert-Hardy sailings in the winter and spring are an overnight service, so after a few hours on board, the sun began to set, turning the water an iridescent shade of orange and the clouds a cotton candy pink.

Sunset scenes

Because I was travelling on my own dime, I decided to forego a cabin and brought my thermarest and sleeping bag to make myself a little bed in the main seating area.  As I mentioned, there was hardly anyone on the sailing and I pretty much had about 20 rows around me to myself all evening, so I was feeling pretty smug aboout my decision to skip getting a cabin.  The smug feeling was short lived though, as just as I was getting ready to go to bed, another passenger came and made her bed RIGHT beside me.  It was the oddest things ever. There was so much empty room around us!  I gave her a look that could only mean "Are you kidding me?" but either she ignored me or didn't pick up on it.  Needless to say I let our an audible sigh and moved all my stuff a little further away.  She happily took over my former spot and proceeded to snore away the rest of the night.  Oy.

Tucked into bed, giggling over the weird lady that apparently wanted to sleep right beside me.

The next morning I awoke in Fisher Channel to the captain announcing that there were killer whale ahead.  I ran outside in my jammies and watched a group pass by at a bit of a distance.  It never gets old.

I spent the rest of the sailing, curled up next to the window reading and watching the more familiar central coast go by. I'd picked up 'The Oil Man and the Sea' by Arno Kopecky a few weeks previous and it proved the perfect read for the journey.  The book chronicles a sailing trip between two friends, one an author, one a photographer, neither a sailor, as they trace the route of the Northern Gateway tankers through the Great Bear.  It's eloquently and humourously written, while still emphasizing the multitude of reasons why the Enbridge pipeline and it's associated tankers are a terrible idea for this rich landscape.  There were points in my ferry trip where I was passing through the exact locations being described in the book, making it an even richer reading and travelling experience.

As we pulled into the Port Hardy Terminal 17 hours after leaving Rupert, I actually felt a bit sad that the trip was over.  There is something almost meditative about travelling alone this way.  For 17 hours I was quiet and contemplative, moving passively through a beautiful landscape, with nothing but a book, some magazines, my own thoughts, and the wrong lyrics to a Rod Stewart song to accompany me.  With life always moving along a full tilt, it's not very often in life that we take that amount of time to just 'be'.

lava

How many times have you been driving in British Columbia and the words "Boom. Lava" have come out of your mouth?  Don't over think it.  The answer is probably never unless you've been to the Anhuluut’ukwsim Laxmihl Angwinga’Asanskwhl Nisga’a (a.k.a. Nisga’a Memorial Lava Bed Park).

They were the exact words that came out of my mouth as we drove in from the north on the Cranberry Connector.  The site is pretty surreal, to be honest.  You're cruising along, enjoying typical northern BC forested landscape and then, well, boom, lava.  Lots of it.  The park is the site of BC's latest volcanic eruption, 250 years ago.  The lava that swept down, burning everything in it's path, also destroyed two villages, and sadly killed 2000 people.

What's left now is a landscape that looks lunar. The black lava is now covered in a fuzzy layer of lichens.  Few larger plants have yet to take hold of the minimal soil available, but there are brilliant spots of bright green saxifrage.  It's beautiful and a bit haunting.

In stark contrast to the black lava and ghostly lichens, the nearby Tseax River is an amazing turquoise.  Just before we left the area, we stopped in a section of park where the lava bordered some old growth forest and walked down to admire the incredible green-ness.

During the summer months, guided tours run from the Nisga'a visitors centre to the cone, something I'd really like to do when we visit again.  The park encompasses 179 ha of land north of Terrace, close to New Aiyansh. While this first visit was the final stop of our Easter weekend road trip to Stewart and Hyder, it would be a do-able day trip from Prince Rupert.

See here and here for more information on the park, tours and the history of the area.

hyder

Welcome to Hyder

Remember that creepy movie Insomnia starring Robin Williams and Al Pacino?  A bunch of that was filmed in Hyder (and Stewart).  The eerie vibe of that film sort of describes how I felt about the town.  It was one part beautiful, one part decaying, and one part heebee-jeebee inducing.  Definitely an odd place. 

Hyder is located a few more kilometers down the road from Stewart.  You can't venture any further into Alaska from there as it's the end of the road, so there is no border crossing upon entry.  Just a few signs (obligatory photos required) and a sense that you're in America.  This includes a somewhat racist depiction of a First Nations person on a gas station, cheap cheese and some guns...though we'll get to that in a minute.

Ty with the border marker between Canada and the US

"Do not injure"

In the 2010 census, the population of Hyder was 87 people.  Originally established in 1907, it was first called Portland City after the canal that it's situated on.  After being informed by U.S. Postal Service that the name was already taken, they named the small town Hyder.  Although originally settled for it's nearby mining possibilities, now Hyder seems to run off the silly tourists (guilty as charged) that want to claim they've been to Alaska and been 'Hyderized'- taking a shot of 151-proof Everclear.  We had big ambitions of being Hyderized ourselves (because we're grown ups like that), but the bar was closed. We settled for a walking tour through town.

We spent an hour or so wandering through Hyder (which is taking things very slow and moving at a snail's pace).  In the span of that hour, four amazing/hilarious/concerning things happened:

1. We walked into what appeared to be a gift shop only to find it was someone's home, stuffed with 'merchandise' that appeared to have been last stocked in 1981.  Perched among the junk was the elderly proprietress herself.  She scared the bejeezus out of Ty when we spotted her.  Besides the post cards, jade stones, and t-shirts were large bags of walnuts (?!).  It was bizarre.  We all bought 20+ year old post cards since it seemed rude to 'window shop' in someone's front hallway and leave empty handed. 
2. An avalanche roared down one of the mountains behind town.  I'd never actually seen an avalanche before and it was intriguing only because we were a safe enough distance away to not have to worry.  I wonder what it's like to live somewhere where you feel like the mountainside behind your home could come down anytime? This may explain the general feeling of unease in Hyder.
3. We saw a sign for a 'Cheese Sale', which of course was too good to pass up.  Following the sign we arrived at another shop situated in someone's home (this time the garage, not the front hallway).  The woman opened up the shop for us which turned out to not only stock cheese, but a large, varied inventory of taxidermied animals and prepared pelts.  We bought some cheap Muenster and played a rousing game of 'what animal did that use to be' with the owner.
4. On our way back, we were admiring the vast number of homes that appear to by falling down, when an elderly gentleman walked out on his porch with a rifle.  We did not stick around to find out what he planned to do with it.  I swear I heard banjos playing.  

After our tour through town and a chat with the bearded old man in the general store about the town's history, we headed out the end of the road to look out at the Portland Canal.  Like much of the scenery, it was beautiful and almost a bit drastic.  The old pilings of the original Portland City can still be seen in the estuary, a disintegrating memory of the past.  

Old piling from the original town

Portland Canal

Hyder is popular in the summer with long-distance motorcyclists and those who come to see the bears in Fish Creek.  If you go, remember to take your passport.  Coming back into BC, there is a border guard.  He seriously inspected our documents and asked if we had anything to declare.  With a sheepish grin we held up our newly acquired cheese, but he waived us through.

stewart

Road into Stewart

Abbreviated version of my conversation with the caretaker at the Ripley Creek Inn, Weds before the long weekend:

Me: "Hello, I'd like to inquire about any vacancies you have for the long weekend.  We're looking for 2 pet-friendly rooms"

Hotel lady: "This weekend?  You know it's supposed to rain?"

Me: "Yes, that's ok.  We live is Rupert.  Rain isn't a problem.  Do you have any rooms?"

Hotel lady: "There's still snow here.  You can't do any hiking.  The bears aren't here yet.  There is only one restaurant open.  There might be avalanches."

Me: "Ummm.  Ok.  That's fine.  I'm just wondering if you have any rooms"

Hotel lady: "Yes we do.  I just want you to realize what you're getting yourself into."

And so begun our Easter weekend in Stewart.  I'd never had someone try so hard to convince me not to visit.  No matter, our minds were made up.  After our road-trip along Highway 37 (read about it here!), we arrived in Stewart, BC.

Streets of Stewart 

Stewart Scenes

The truth is this:  if you're only going to visit Stewart one time in your life, late April may not be a prime time to go.  You'd probably want to choose mid- to late-summer when the bears can be seen pouncing on salmon in Fish Creek, the trails up to the mountains and glaciers are open and the Stewart Toaster Museum (for real, this exists) is open.  But there was a certain charm about visiting during this quiet time of year.  We walked down the middle of the road.  We ate at the two (the hotel lady lied) restaurants in town.  We had the boardwalk in the estuary to ourselves and even spotted a mountain bluebird.  We drank beer on the back deck of the charming Ripley Creek Inn and watched the newly arrived songbirds try to make sense of the still chilly landscape.  It didn't rain at all (hotel lady lie number 2).  It was kind of great.

Boardwalk through the estuary

MOUNTAIN BLUEBIRD! YES!

Estuary paparazzi

Estuary

Deedee the wonder corgi

Stewart is an old mining town that is in an endearing state of disrepair. Rusty relics and chipped-paint wood siding decorate the streets and buildings. The mountains loom large on all side of the town. Next door is the somewhat less charming-more creepy town of Hyder, Alaska (another post that you'll just have to wait for); both are situated at the end of the Portland Canal.

The drive into Stewart is one of the highlights.  We were lucky to have clear weather on the days we drove in and out, and had a chance to ogle at the 20 glaciers that dot the mountains along the road...and the avalanches (hotel lady was right about that).  Most spectacular of the roadside glaciers in the Bear Glacier- located across a small lake from the road.  The Salmon Glacier, located past Hyder, is even larger and more stunning but unfortunately due to late the snow we couldn't access it.  Next time.

Avalanches along the road 

Bear Glacier

Should you be heading to Stewart, here are a few things to know:

• There are two hotels in town.  Choose the Ripley Creek Inn if you can.  It's cute and charming and homey.  The other choice may be less so, I hear. 
• The BC Liquor Store is tiny but has an incredible beer selection and tons of stuff on sale.  We were like kids in a candy store.
• All postcards in Stewart and Hyder were printed in approximately 1974.  This makes them awesome.
• Brekkie at the King Eddy cafe isn't terrible.  Dinner is a different, less pleasant story.  ;)