Crew: Louise Murgatroyd and Erin Hobbs

weather: Really, really wet.

Arrived to torrents of rain in Gold River – I am swapping out with Michelle and the spate of good weather that Meghan and I enjoyed (inspired?) seems to have come to a dismal demise – think I’ll blame Erin. Michelle is off to university to do an intensive one-year BSc in environmental sciences – best of luck Michelle and thanks for all the wonderful work this summer! (By the way, in case anyone was wondering, Michelle is NOT a Great Big Sea fan.)

On our way out to Critter Cove we met up with Luna following the Uchuk III in towards Gold River. After disengaging Luna from the Uchuk III, he followed us for a few miMr.es and then decided to go the other way. We returned to engage him again and again he remained with us for some time 5-10 miMr.es before swinging around and swimming towards Gold River. I stayed at the bow the whole time and stuck my fist out from time to time. L98 seemed to look at it and me, and once or twice tried to spyhop up to my hand though I’d positioned myself at the bow in such a way that he couldn’t get to it. I got the distinct impression that all the while we were trying to get Luna to follow us out of the area and back to the zone, he was trying to lead us out of the area so he could get back to his fish. Each time we went back he would turn us around and swim with us towards the zone for a several miMr.es. Then he’d leave us and head back towards Gold River. It would appear that neither of us is having much luck getting the other to do what we want. We heard him vocalising during our encounters and I cannot help but think that he must be as frustrated at our inability to understand him as we are with his inability to understand us. What stories we could share with one another, though his would, without a doubt, be infinitely more fascinating.

4 September 2002

weather: Sunny and partly cloudy with a good afternoon breeze and fair chop through Muchalat Inlet.

We went looking for L98 in the zone this morning and, upon seeing no signs of him, decided to motor slowly towards where we’d left him the previous afternoon. A quick call on the VHF from the Uchuk III confirmed that he was still outside the Houston River logging camp and hadn’t followed them as they transited. When we arrived in the area we watched him appear and disappear at the surface on the opposite shore and he showed no signs of interest as two recreational vessels sped through the area. Later, as we were searching for a new “spot” to anchor and observe, we saw a few tell tale blows and his dorsal descending in a dive and just as we were thinking that he’d probably pop up right beside the boat, he appeared and gave us quite a start. We were able to disengage him fairly quickly but the new challenge is to find “the Spot II” where he won’t find us at anchor and where we can maintain the best vantage point. Must remember to turn off depth sounder as that just gives up the game right away.

John and "Lenny" the poodle at Critter Cove.

We were rained in for the afternoon and were cheered by the prospect of fresh crab and prawns for dinner, courtesy of John the caretaker. He is an extraordinary man who has come to look after Critter Cove for the past two winters, basking in the solitude and self-sufficiency that it offers. After a few days there without any guests save for the odd black bear roaming the shore, and the stunning silence that allows your imagination to roam free, one can really see the attraction. John is from Ontario and once ran a pool hall in Powell River and kayaked by himself to Alaska – without a chart!! His tall tales come replete with photos and a particularly scary story about a near-attack by a cougar just behind Critter Cove. I have only now just begun to notice how closely the Critter Cove floats and docks come to touching the shore at low tide. “Yo bear…..”

5 September 2002

weather: Gorgeous sunny day with a few clouds, yummm…. Wind and chop in the afternoon.

This morning as we headed out we encountered the Uchuk III stopped at San Carlos Point. Thinking they might have L98, we went over to investigate. They told us they’d seen him on their way through Muchalat Inlet at Houston River and he’d followed them to the north end of Gore Island. They guessed that he might have been headed for Mooyah Bay but that they’d lost track of him.

King Passage

We checked the zone and finding no signs proceeded to Houston River and the logging camp. We had no luck there either and as neither Erin nor myself had ever been through King Passage we decided to have a look and continue with our circumnavigation of Gore Island. Our curiosity was rewarded as Luna porpoised next to the boat about halfway into King Passage. We looked around for a place to anchor where we hoped Luna wouldn’t find us. We watched him as he foraged at the surface often coming very close to shore and gradually making his way closer to us. There were masses of pilchard jumping at the surface and we watched, mesmerised, as a large school of these fish, each roughly one foot in length, spiralled en masse underneath the boat. I theorised that they were using the shade of the vessel as a hiding spot from a hungry killer whale.

Eventually L98 began exploring the shore closer and closer to us and we decided that this was a good indication that it was time to head in for some lunch. Unfortunately, when returned in the afternoon, Luna had resumed his game of hide and seek and after a two hour circumnavigation of Gore Island at slow speed we headed in for the day. Luna’s departure from the zone and venturing into different areas highlight how easy it is to get used to his behaviours so that one almost forgets his wildness. We’ve become so used to the routine of setting anchor off the zone and watching him appear, almost without fail. Now he’s moving around and his wildness and unpredictability show us how powerless we are to interpret his intent. It quickly becomes obvious, as it has on the occasions where we’ve attempted to “guide” Luna back to the zone, that Luna has full control over the situation, and we have none. When we cannot find him, we are utterly helpless and must rely on good luck to spot him again. In telling others that Luna is a wild whale, it’s something about which we must also remind ourselves.

Back at Critter Cove, I rang Nootka Air and asked them to contact us should any of their pilots see the whale. In the evening, I played cribbage with John and was consoled after my crushing defeat (two games to one) by tea and brownies.

6 September 2002

weather: Fabulously gorgeous sunny morning.

We began this morning by heading immediately to the new “zone” in King Passage. We were greeted by a good morning wave of Luna’s dorsal fin and settled into the southeast corner of the passage, very near the log boom belonging to the Houston River log camp. I must admit, the change of scenery is fabulous, not that every last square inch of Nootka Sound isn’t gob-smackingly beautiful, but it’s nice to have a different bit of beautiful upon which to gaze.

We intercepted one boat this morning that slowed upon seeing Luna while transiting King Passage. None of our usual distractions worked today and we ended up coaching the vessel to disengage the whale. I think Luna is over us (though I suspect that none of us shall ever get over Luna).

The rest of the morning was uneventful with very little boat traffic. We were rained in after lunch but returned to King Passage later as the sky cleared to reveal a gorgeous afternoon. L98 was still there along with seals, or rather their globular, questioning eyes silently skimming the surface, and bald eagles soaring overhead. Anchored in the new sport, there was also an odd rustling in the trees right behind us, but we decided NOT to explore.

7 September 2002

weather: Sunny and partly cloudy with dark clouds looming in the distance threatening rain.

Another quiet day in this remote, northern paradise. Made our way through the new zone and set up shop at the Spot II. The Uchuk III passed by this morning and we spoke to them briefly. Luna made an appearance but did not follow them. We didn’t see much of him this morning at all. At lunchtime we made a run into Gold River to pick up some shingling supplies for the Critter Cove folk. We spent a few hours this afternoon anchored off the wee isle at the western entrance to King Passage before getting rained out. We didn’t see any sign of Luna in the flat calm. It’s nice to be in King Passage for a change of scenery. Actually, it’s just nice to be here period. This evening, John skunked me twice (!) at cribbage. I have vowed revenge.

8 September 2002

weather: Grim.

We were rained in for most of the day with intermittent showers – annoying, as just when it looked as it might clear, it would begin to pour again. At around 1500 hrs we received a call from Bruce at Three Cove Bay to say that Luna had been spotted at Gold River having followed a slow moving vessel with a broken motor. He had seen Luna by the deep draught docks off the mill. We got underway immediately and upon arriving at Gold River found L98 foraging along the south shore opposite the Gold River waterfront. We tied up to the dock and remained in the area until about 1830 when it started to rain heavily again and we began the longer journey home. Before we left, we saw Cameron and crew pulling up to the boat launch and bade them farewell.

9 September 2002

weather: Cloudy and overcast, but not raining yet.

Erin and I got up really early for a run over to Friendly Cove. As this is our last day here and neither of us had been there yet, we thought we’d treat ourselves to a quick visit. We had a brief look around the church and grounds and met Arnold living at the back of the church. We asked after Ray Williams but he was not around. Arnold told us about seeing Luna following the disabled vessel into Gold River on the previous afternoon.

Friendly Cove is a stunning place and we revelled in the view of the open Pacific (if you look really hard I swear you can almost see Japan). While we had precious few moments there, it really gave one a sense of the rich history of the Nootka Sound area. Definitely merits further exploration – the outhouses alone were worth the visit. Would also have loved to poke around the Nootka lighthouse but there just wasn’t enough time.

Friendly Cove Outhouse

We returned to Critter Cove to finish packing and loading our bags and checked in with the Uchuk III at 0900. They reported seeing Luna in Gold River, still on the south shore. We fuelled up and bid farewell to John, who made a poor effort at seeming happy to see us go. He’s been a great host, even if he didn’t let me win at cribbage. While on our way to Gold River, we passed the Uchuk III, in King Passage, who informed us of a few curious vessels going to check out Luna. As we motored into dock, a First Nations fisherman waved us over to tell us that Luna had been swimming all over the immediate area this morning.

It began to rain after we tied up to the dock so we took shelter at Air Nootka, which provided an excellent vantage point. We had a long chat with Lorraine about VHF conversations she’d heard in which people spoke about catching extra fish with which to feed Luna. She’s kindly agreed to keep an eye on things and will be an essential part of the spotting network once M3 leaves the area officially at the end of the week.

Veins of Life Watershed Society arrived shortly after noon with Kari and Kristy from Soundwatch who will perform the final week of monitoring. Kari has so much experience with the southern residents that it will be great to share her observations and thoughts at the end of her watch. It’s been a magic week and we’re very sorry to be leaving this place. This experience quite frankly leaves one at a loss for words and feeling that one has just taken part in something extraordinary. As the project winds to a close, I suspect that all of us who’ve been involved are feeling mounting unease at the prospect of leaving Luna alone.