Late August, I picked up Pam at Vancouver airport, good to see her after almost five months apart. We spent a few days in the city whilst she landed, staying airbnb with a Russian emigre Erika, who you wouldn't want to mess with. Then got the ferry to Vancouver Island, busy there, last week of the school hols. We stayed in Port Alberni, at a place right on the Somass river, tidal here, inland from Barclay Bay, with salmon shoals swimming by upstream, on their final journey to spawn. Alberni claims to be the salmon capital of the island, if not BC, although there are other places in the running for this. There were often raptors circling around; Pam said she'd eat her slippers if they weren't eagles, I think we settled on turkey vultures in the end but resisted saying 'shall I get the ketchup?' It's a blue collar town, used to have two sawmills and a board plant as well as the current paper mill, with unemployment now running at 26% I heard. Bloody conservationists ...? It was the weekend of the annual salmon festival and we went down to the quay on two evenings to join the crowd, had some tasty bbq salmon, missed the Beatles tribute band, caught the fireworks and the Eagles tribute. The main event each year is the angling competition, the big prize of $10000 awarded in 2018 year for a fish of 17.7kg.
We watched the salmon at Stamp Falls Provincial Park, Chinook now in September, the largest of the five Pacific species, resting up beneath the falls, and those smart or lucky enough to find the alternative fish ladder emerging above. An average of 50000 come here to spawn each year, weighing up to 28 kg, and some 22 million leave as smolt twelve to eighteen months later. Spent a day on the west coast where the rainforest around Tofino and Ucluelet is designated as a UN Biosphere Reserve, within the Pacific Rim National Park. The walk down to Florencia Bay passes through a misty world of huge cedars and western hemlocks, dripping with ferns, mosses and lichens, and a verdant ferny understorey with salal, salmonberry and huckleberry.
These western coasts get around four metres of rain each year, and the trees are reckoned to condense another metre. There's a long beach below, backed by lodgepole pine, the high tide areas piled with huge logs and timber. The trail boardwalks, and staircases climbing over great fallen trunks, were impressive constructions and I learned on return that my colleague Tom at TfL had coincidentally worked on these. Another day, close to Alberni is the famed Cathedral Grove, especially renowned for its Douglas fir, the largest tree 76m tall, with a diameter of 2.8m and over 800 years old. Awesome. A popular spot for a photo as you can imagine.
We visited Michael and Kathy White who have relocated to the island from Findhorn with their two kids. Kathy is originally Canadian and has family nearby and Michael has spent time here before. They've got a nice place in Crofton, near the beach and all seems well with them. Our visit to the island coincided with Labour Day weekend, the last days of the school holidays and we spent a sunny Sunday on the beach at Sproat Lake, warm enough to swim, with a background of the forested mountains. It got quite crowded after lunch, a typical seaside family scene ... several inflatables out on the water, including a blue shark, a large pink flamingo, and two orange 'Explorer 200' dinghies, one of which had a large lobster of a man aboard being towed around by his young son. Along the shore there are petroglyphs carved into the rock, mythical creatures, one perhaps half wolf half whale; maybe the native folk came here too for sun and a swim. There's a new First Nations admin centre nearby, an impressive log building with totem pole outside, and including a surgery and legal advice centre.
Heading north we stopped for an early lunch at Campbell River and then drove upriver a few km inland to have a tramp around at Elk Falls. The river here thunders over a 70m drop and a recently constructed viewing platform and suspension bridge, courtesy of the local Rotary Club, give birds-eye views. It's impressive and was probably now only a comparative trickle given the dry summer months. BCHydro are working on upgrading a scheme on the river nearby, but the old penstock is still operating .... three huge pipes, some 3-4m in diameter, made from jointed staves of Douglas fir, incredible the craft that went into constructing those. Heading further north from here it's a different world, suddenly much quieter on the road and for the next 230 km it was forest, lake and mountain, with an occasional turn to a small town, a dramatic contrast to the busyness of the southern half of the island.
We stayed for two nights at Port Hardy in the far north with a local guy Mike who seems to live for talking to his airbnb guests, an interesting and hospitable character who'd worked on logging, fishing, and oil in Alberta. Definitely a touch of the frontier about him, and indeed there were some glossy mags lying around, with captivating tips on tomahawk tossing and tasty recipes for bear liver.
Whilst on the island a federal court ruling overturned approval for the proposed Trans Mountain pipeline, a project that would deliver more Albertan oil to Pacific rim markets, potentially increasing tanker traffic around Vancouver threefold. The ruling was based on inadequate consultation with indigenous groups and lack of depth of the environmental impact assessment. There's been a lot of opposition to the proposal in BC; however, it's possibly only a temporary reprieve as the federal and Albertan governments are determined to see it through.
Our day in the north was spent hanging out at the beach, wild, and then a brief trip to nearby Coal Harbour, which has the dubious distinction of having hosted the last whaling station on the north American coast. The WW2 aircraft hangar was converted for whaling after the war and in its nineteen year operation 'processed' over ten thousand whales. Inside there's a set of blue whale jawbones standing vertically, enormous, and some gruesome photos and film footage of the hunt and subsequent butchery. For meat, oil and whale meal, the latter used in animal feed. Grim.
The inside passage ferry route from Port Hardy to Prince Rupert on the mainland 500 km to the north has been rebranded in recent years as a day cruise, at least in the summer months. Getting up around 0430, Mike had made coffee and buns for us, we arrived 0540 at the terminal for check in, dark and foggy, disembarking 2330, dark and starry. Slowly as the day evolved the fog lifted, revealing forested shores, islands and mountains .... and then more and more forested mountains, islands, other channels and fjords, islets, more forest on and on for the full day. We pulled in at Bella Bella, the only real settlement of any size along this coast, home of the Heiltsuk people. There the salmon were leaping in the bay at the mouth of the creek and I counted twelve bald eagles, adults and young, so much abundance there was no need for conflict now that the young were fledged.
Otherwise the occasional ruin of an old fish cannery, logging station or mining camp, and the odd lighthouse station. Onward we had glimpses of humpback whales breaching and blowing, all travelling south close to the shore. The northern section, the Grenville Channel, 70 km long, narrow and deep, is a great glacial gouge separating the mainland coast from Pitt Island, bordered by rugged mountains up to 1000m. It reminded us of Loch Ness on a grander scale, with added forest. The mainland for much of the trip is part of the Great Bear Rainforest, a huge largely inaccessible area of temperate rainforest about the size of Ireland, some of which is now off limits to logging following conservation campaigns in recent decades.
From Prince Rupert to Haida Gwaii is another seven hour ferry journey, two hours out through more forested islands and then a further five across the Hecate Strait. Hecate was the Greek goddess of magic. The Strait is shallow and susceptible to big swells and storms, only a slight heave that day, although literally for an unlucky few. Haida Gwaii translates as the 'Islands of the People', a fascinating place culturally with evidence of some of the earliest human activity in north America, dating back about 12500 years. A moderate climate, plentiful seafood and forest resources, together with slavetaking from the mainland it has to be said, allowed the Haida time to develop a sophisticated culture, with myth, song and dance, arts, seafaring and trade all strong. The ‘outside world’ arrived in the early 19th century, via traders seeking sea otter pelts; and the first missionaries appeared around 1860. After undergoing a huge population crash, caused through introduced smallpox, in the latter half of the 19th century, when around 95% died, and then suffering the indignities of racism and the residential schools system, their culture is now undergoing something of a renaissance. Haida carving and art is recognised and valued today worldwide. The islands are also known as 'the Galapagos of the north' ... glaciers missed much of the archipelago during the last ice age and, although nothing as iconic as giant tortoises live here, there are dozens of endemic sub-species, including a shellfish-eating black bear with extra large jaws, and a rich marine ecosystem offshore.
Tourism is increasing on the islands but it was comparatively quiet September time, the weather at first cool and misty, then pretty wet, then warm and sunny. We stayed initially in Queen Charlotte, a small community, a mix of fishing and pleasure boats in the harbour. Our host advised us of the tsunami risk and evacuation procedures, the last significant event hitting the uninhabited west coast as recently as 2007; there are warning signs throughout the Pacific north west.
Nearby is the Haida settlement of Skidegate, a centre of cultural revival, including recently erected house (totem) poles and a language school; the Haida tongue is unique, with no known relationship to any other, and almost extinct now. Then there's the new Haida Heritage Centre, with another fascinating collection of artefacts and stories of the past. The mighty red cedar, and its spirit, were held in high regard by the northwest coastal peoples, known as the 'tree of life', 'long life maker', or 'life giver'. The wood is relatively easy to split and rot resistant, used for canoes, massive post and beam houses, monumental poles, steamed bentwood boxes and dramatic masks. The inner bark was woven into mats, baskets and waterproof clothing. Thin branches made heavy rope, and roots were woven into watertight baskets. There were examples of all these, richly decorated with the Haida geometric designs, in red, black and white, featuring their animal totems. Finely worked black argillite carvings were and remain another speciality; and surprisingly for a stone age culture there are valuable pieces made from copper and iron, from material washed up in Japanese shipwrecks, these were rare treasured items created from an unknown world and conveying great prestige.
The islands are extensively forested, mainly Sitka spruce here at the edge of the world, with lodgepole pine at higher elevations and boggy sites. Much of the old Sitka was felled in WW2 to make mosquito aircraft; replanted in the 1960/70's, the current trees are fast grown, of very poor quality and now exported to China for pulp. Relentless logging continued into the 1980's, until eventually in 1985 the Haida took a stand on Lyell Island, blockading equipment for a fortnight. Seventy two were arrested and the news images of elders in full regalia being led away in handcuffs was a significant step towards the designation of the Gwaii Haanas National Park which covers the southern third of the archipelago, and is now managed jointly by the Parks Service and the Haida Nation. It's another World Heritage site where the old villages, with their longhouses and poles, are slowly crumbling back to the land and sea; regrettably we didn't make it there, it's accessible only by boat, with bookings full for the last week of the season, or otherwise by seaplane.
However, I was determined to visit some of the remaining big trees and a long dirt road trip north to Yakoun Lake was worth the effort .... old growth Sitka remain here, stunning, up to 3m in diameter, so good to see these after all I've cut down in our restoration areas in the Highlands! Across the lake there are good views of the higher mountains including Sleeping Beauty at 1018m. Everywhere there are great carpets and blankets of mosses and lichens, covering the ground and tree limbs high up into the canopy; and we collected a good number of chanterelles from amongst the trees. Further on is the Golden Spruce trail, again with giant Sitka trees along the Yakoun river; the spruce itself, a genetic mutant some 300 years old and considered sacred by the Haida, was felled by a disgruntled forest engineer in the 1990s as a protest against further industrial scale forestry operations. Luckily some cuttings had been grown on by the UBC botanical garden where a sapling survives.
We stayed some days in Masset, population 790, at the north of the islands, alongside Naikoon Provincial Park. From here the coastal beaches stretch for many deserted miles to Haida Gwaii's northern tip at Rose Point, passing Tow Hill, a landmark basalt outcrop steeped in Haida myth. It was here that their creation story originated ... the raven that prised open a giant clamshell to liberate the tiny humans inside, a story immortalised in a modern Bill Reid sculpture back in the museum in Vancouver. The north beach is famed as a source of agates, which we combed for; from the south beach we looked across to the Alaskan Panhandle, remarkably similar to being on Findhorn beach looking towards Caithness, even with a cone of a mountain like Morven. Nearby is the Haida settlement of Old Masset, where the tradition of erecting totem poles has been revived in recent years, with the two island clans, the eagle and the raven, always featuring. Not to paint too rosy a picture of life there for the Haida ... some work in fish processing but unemployment runs at 30%, housing is comparitively poor, some derelict, drug and alcohol problems are common; having suffered a cultural genocide there are no quick and easy routes to social inclusion.
Our host, Todd White, is the son of the former chief, his cousin inheriting the chieftainship through matrilineal lines. His father was a great builder of houses and boats, then became a carver. Todd and his brothers, and now the extended family, all took up the craft, re-establishing age-old skills and traditions. We had the privilege of a guided tour of the clan's longhouse and his family's huge workshop. Outside stand two poles, one a house or chief pole erected at a potlatch in 1995 to celebrate his father's chieftainship of the eagle clan. The eagle is prominent above and the raven lower, a transformational representation with some human features. The beaver and grizzly are there, neither native to the island although the beaver was introduced in the mid 19th century; 'trading' of these totems or crests with peoples on the mainland allowed the clan here to adopt them. Frogs often feature, symbolic of communication between the worlds. And finally three watchmen, facing out to the world. The other pole is a memorial, erected in 2006 for Todd's grandfather, a white raven on top and a dogfish sub-crest; eight copper 'shields' representing wealth ... the wealth of knowledge and of power, here seen as the ability to work for the common good, and lastly potlash rings, one for each of these great gatherings he'd hosted as chief. It was good to meet Todd's teenage son, Nathaniel, who is interested in and taking on his people's heritage.
Inside the workshop there are great timbers, power and hand tools, offcuts and sawdust, an air of many hours, weeks and years spent in creating. There were two painted ceremonial canoes and two further poles, horizontal, not quite finished, one being carved by Todd's brother for a reciprocal exchange with people at Bella Bella, former enemies. It includes a grizzly, a dogfish and an orca, frogs again, a great blue heron, watchmen and other human figures. Outside his two brothers and two nephews were working on a new canoe, a great cedar trunk that they were levelling off with a chainsaw mill before carving; it will take them two years to complete and, at 54 feet, will be the longest on Haida.
Once the log is hollowed out they will use the traditional method of shaping, filling the interior with water, then red hot rocks, allowing the wood to become malleable, a magical process to stretch the sides outwards, allowing the prow and stern to curve upwards. Finally we went into the longhouse, again built from cedar logs and beams on a grand scale, a base for the Tluu Xaada Naay Society, (Canoe People), used as a community resource and centre for gatherings and potlatches. There's a local dance group that meet here, with masks and regalia (not 'costumes' we were told) around; we tried on a few masks which included the eagle, the white and black raven, bear, salmon, wolf and hummingbird. And a rather fearsome looking wild man or 'Gaagiixiid', whose legend had just been immortalised in a new Haida language film, 'The Edge of the Knife', which had had good reviews at the recent Toronto Film Festival. Look out for it at your local cineplex! Across the road Todd's sister Lisa has opened a studio and craft shop, lovely stuff in there, jewellery, carvings, prints and clothing; she herself is a skilled weaver of cedar bark and Sitka root.
Heading south again on the Yellowhead Highway, which starts/ends at Masset as a single carriageway road, a car every ten minutes, and goes on to cross Canada, we called in at Mayer Lake. An idyllic spot again surrounded by forest, wonderfully tranquil, sparkling in the sunlight, water lilies blooming ... until Pam found a disposable nappy. She bravely bagged it up for disposal, and peace returned .... until a school bus arrived and a bunch of noisy students descended, started throwing a frisbee around. We took some deep breaths. It turned out to be a group of ecology students from the university of BC, lucky folk they get to spend a whole semester on Haida Gwaii. I got talking to their tutor, Sue G, originally from Yorkshire and who studied herself in Aberdeen. Her research interest focuses on the browsing effects of the black tailed Sitka deer, which are easily seen on the grassy roadside strips day and night; introduced to the islands some hundred years ago the population has grown relatively unchecked, now up to 30 per sq km. There are also problems with introduced rats and both are being cleared from some of the smaller islands in the south by the National Park Service, a painstaking restoration process.
Haida Gwaii is a captivating place (check out 'On the Edge of the World' on youtube), but sadly for us it was time to leave the 'islands of the people'. We caught the overnight ferry back to Prince Rupert on the mainland, to head east on the Yellowhead towards the Rockies.
Those trees are amazing!