In Praise of Shrimp
You betcha – we caught ‘em!
Friday, June 13th – Upon leaving Chatterbox Falls, our next destination is going to be the cruising waters of Desolation Sound. It will take two days to traverse the distance north. Our first stop is a marine park on Hardy Island. The island proves to be well named for, in an area already full of granite and stone, this island is the rockiest and stoniest we have seen to date.
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The few houses we see look like they have a mere toehold on the land. In this often harsh climate and even harsher terrain, one just knew that those who felt called to this area were indeed “hardy” souls.
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Motoring into the marine park, we see several smaller sailboats all stern-tied to the shore. This system of anchoring and securing one’s boat takes more work than just dropping and setting an anchor off the bow, but with depths in the bay in the 90-foot range, not many small boats have enough chain to anchor in these depths. Having put on extra chain for last year’s trip to Alaska where we often had no choice but to anchor in depths around 100 feet, we drop our anchor, happy not to have to execute a stern-tie anchoring exercise.
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Saturday, June 14th – We sail up the Strait of Georgia to Gorge Harbour. That’s right! We sailed! The year before with friends from Telluride, Judy Hall and Warner Paige, we had endured a miserable, grey, wet 13-hour slog under motor up this strait to finally and gratefully drop anchor in Gorge Harbour. This year, we have a great sail under a bright blue, sunny sky. What a difference!
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The Gorge is a narrow slot that takes one into (what else?), Gorge Harbour. It proves every bit as interesting as that first trip.
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Anchored in the beautiful bay, we head ashore to the Lodge where showers, which visiting yachties may use, are located.
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All clean and feeling good, we wander over to the little convenience store to purchase the garlic that The First Mate knows she is going to need for all those Desolation Sound shrimp.
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We enjoy our short stay in Gorge Harbour. It is such a picturesque spot, and at the entrance to Desolation Sound, it is one of those “must stop” places.
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Sunday, June 15th – In the morning, we pull anchor and motor out The Gorge for what will probably be the last time, unless we decide to return to these waters after our world cruising is finished.
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Once again, we search the granite wall at the entrance for ancient First Nation’s rock paintings that are supposed to still be visible, but we cannot locate them. Either they have eroded with time or they are one of those things you have to be shown first. Once seen, they jump out at you and you wonder how/why you could not have see them earlier. Whichever it is, we cannot find them.
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Outside the Gorge, we stop to pick up the shrimp trap that we had dropped the previous evening. It was pathetic – only one shrimp. The Captain threw it back. We motored to Baker Passage and then north into Desolation Sound. Those snow-capped mountains draw our eyes north as they did all last year on our voyage to Alaska.
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The day is warm. With the wind blowing lightly from behind us, we raise sail and continue wing-on-wing into this area of deep passages, waterfalls and islands – an area Captain Vancouver found so overbearingly depressing he named it Desolation Sound. For us, like last year, it is a fascinating area to explore with warmer waters and brilliant sunshine. That is exactly what we do sailing up one channel and down another until the wind finally dies down in the late afternoon.
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We head over to Prideaux Haven. Just outside the entrance to the harbor, we drop sail and set up the shrimp trap to drop. This is Desolation Sound. This is where those B-I-G shrimp are. The First Mate baits the trap box, and, to sweeten the attraction, she ties on the head of a salmon she had bought in the store in Ganges Harbour. She hauls trap and orange bucket of neatly coiled rope to the bow. The Captain stops the boat, over goes the trap with rope neatly uncoiling behind it. There is no tangled mess. The Captain is amazed, and The First Mate hides her satisfaction with a nonchalant air. “Go trap, Go rope, Come on, Shrimp!”
Though there are a few other boats in our favorite spot to anchor, we are able to position Avante within prime view territory.
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Prideaux Haven is another one of those must-see spots. It is a maze of rocky, little islands with evergreens tenaciously clinging on the edges. There are isolated lagoons to explore and drop-dead views to catch your breath and make you pause. It is an area made for relaxing on deck in the sun and for exploring, preferably by dingy as one foray into the woods soon showed us.
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We spend the early evening on deck relaxing in the warmth and the sun. The First Mate is working on this blog while The Captain is planning the next few days.
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Grace and Rob Dodge row over in their dingy to meet us. In talking, we mention that we are going to hike over to Tenedos Bay in the morning. “There is supposed to be a trail leading out of the lagoon behind us”, says The Captain. It is only a 2 to 3-hour hike. They eagerly ask to join us, and we all agree to meet in the morning.
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Monday, June 16th – The trail starts out quite nicely and then deteriorates into primitive track that has us scrambling over huge deadfall, boulders and streams. After years of hiking the San Juans of Telluride, The First Mate takes it all in stride.
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Several times, this “trail” just plain disappears causing us great difficulty to relocate. Rob turns out to be made out of the same stuff as The Captain. “We came here to hike to Tenedos Bay. It’s just over that ridge (or maybe that ridge over there). Dammit, we’re going to find it!” Well, find it we did, crossing streams and tramping through moist, dense rainforest not sure whether one’s foot was going to sink 3 inches or 3 feet.
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One of the highlights of the adventure was a stop at Unwin Lake, an inland freshwater lake, where we relaxed, shared oranges and wished we were prepared to go for a swim. It was just that warm — almost!
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Another interesting highlight, causing The First Mate her usual child-like delight in inane things, was the spotting of “tree stump” man complete with a tasseled, moss-covered cap.
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We greatly enjoy our hike with Grace and Rob and listening to their very interesting life story. When they were in their early 20’s, they were invited to spend a short holiday on a friend’s sailboat. They thought it was most romantic and decided then and there that they (who were not sailors) were going to buy a sailboat and sail around the world. They put in a low-ball offer for the hull of a 36-foot sailboat. It is accepted (my god, now what do we do?), and Rob and Grace, neither of whom had ever built more than a birdhouse, complete the boat. They garner ideas and suggestions from all the accomplished boaters around them, decide which suggestion is best for them and then build it or put it into their boat. When they finally have the mast put in, they set off for their first sail. Grace recounts how difficult it was to get out of the way of the ferries up here when they were not yet ready to point their tippy little boat more than a 5-degree angle. Hey, The First Mate can relate to that!
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They spend about 4 years learning to sail “Nanamuk”, an Indian name for Sea Otter – a perfect name for their pretty ocean-going home. They save their money, quit their pharmacist jobs and, with their plastic sextant, take off to see the world. Three years later they return, go back to work, have 2 children, save their money and about 10 years later, take off with their 6 and 7 year-olds to see the world again. This time they are gone for 6 years. We ply them with questions and totally enjoy listening to their stories, especially how they delicately declined the well-meant offer of a herd of camels as bride price for their daughter in that part of the world where such things are still done.
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Upon returning to Avante, we grab a quick lunch and head off in The Dingbat to explore by water. We pull up to several of the smaller islands.
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We head out into Homfrey Channel to capture this shot.
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In the early evening, we head back to Avante. Prideaux Haven has truly offered us its best.
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Tuesday, June 17th – After the good weather yesterday, there are light rain showers all morning. In the early afternoon, we raise anchor and motor out to pick up that shrimp trap. We had heard that a neighboring boat had hauled up 17 large shrimp the evening before. The First Mate is ready, but The Captain is not placing any bets. Pulling up the trap is now teamwork. The Captain pulls – The First Mate coils. The trap comes up. There’s shrimp!
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17 large ones or at least kind of large ones. Stretch it a little, and there will be enough for a dinner.
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After the final light rain shower, the wind picks up to 10-15 knots, and we sail across Lewis Channel to Squirrel Cove where we drop anchor.
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That evening, The First Mate makes Gambas al Ajillo with rice and roasted asparagus. A good white wine compliments the dinner. There’s a candle on the table. Rod Stewart (One of The Captain’s favorites) is on the CD. Heavenly! She just knew this shrimping venture was going to work, but the real surprise for her is how very, very different fresh-caught shrimp are from any that are bought in a store no matter how “fresh” they are supposed to be. The texture and sweetness are beyond description. All other shrimp she has ever had now pale by comparison. In one evening, she has become a Shrimp Snob. AJ’s, Bristol Farms or any so-called “fresh fish” supplier – eat your heart out! None of you can provide the true taste of right-out-of-the-water shrimp. She is hooked and spoiled for life. Give her shrimp, but make them fresh-caught shrimp!