Super, Natural BC

So the advertising slogan for this place is just that, Super, Natural British Columbia. Up here in the coastal mountains, it is certainly true. We have just spent a few days at the breathtaking anchorage at the head of Princess Louisa Inlet. We have seen bald eagles, seals, otters, mink and bears. We have hiked half way up a mountain, anchored beneath a waterfall and had a campfire in the forest.

We traveled thirty miles up Jervis Inlet, a wide river of sea water, with only the occasional logging camp to betray a human presence. At each of the three main turns in the inlet, the mountains became steeper, the shoreline more rugged and the snows covered more of the peaks. Near the top of Jervis Inlet we waited to enter Malibu Rapids, where millions of tons of water drain or flood on each tide, these ones run at up to nine knots. We wait for the wavelets to subside then follow a few other boats through into the protected waters of Princess Louisa Inlet.

Four miles long and about half a mile wide, the inlet is bounded by five thousand foot high mountains on all sides. Some of the slopes are sheep precipices of barren rock, and snow melt cascades down the mountain sides in more than thirty spectacular waterfalls along the inlet. At the end of the inlet is Chatterbox Falls, the biggest of them all and in full flow with the springtime melt. These falls have eroded enough rock from the mountain to make a substantial beach and delta which gives just enough space to anchor. There is also now a Park dock, where about twenty boats can tie alongside. We wanted to anchor anyway, which was good because the dock was full by the time we got there.

When they say 'just enough space to anchor' they mean it. We approach the beach in front of the waterfall and watch the depth sounder refuse to stop flashing the last reading it had before things got too deep, back at the rapids. I tell Gesa to shout when she can see the bottom and creep in towards the shore. We must be less than twenty yards away when she reckons we have ten feet depth at the bow. Back at the stern where the depth sounder is fitted, there is eighty feet. We drop, reverse and manage to get a firm hold. The flow of fresh water from the falls keeps us back off the shore and we have the most fabulous anchorage we can remember for a long time.

The area is a provincial park, only accessible by water apart from the few brave souls who hike in over the mountain, along the glacier and down the trails to the water's edge where, after a call on their satellite phone, a float plane comes in to pick them up. That's adventure tourism for you. So it's only the fortunate few who can get here by boat, and we find a diverse group tied to the dock. As the kids play on the beach, they are rapidly spotted by the grandparents of a lonely nine year old whose school in Colorado has an odd that breaks for summer at the end of May. He's missing playmates and suddenly we are swept up into a very enjoyable social round of appetisers and drinks on the dock at five pm each evening and a big group of new friends to make. By one of the strange coincidences that happen all the time in this small world, one boat at the dock is our neighbour from Nanaimo - he didn't know it at that time but our new marina berth is next to his boat

We mention we were going for a hike tomorrow, and suddenly we have a group of nine arranging to meet on the dock early in the morning. One, Fernando, has done this hike before so it's good to have a guide.

The hike is to an old trapper's log cabin, high up in the mountain some five hundred metres above. The guide books give it a fearsome write-up, describing it as a tough scramble more than a hike, but we've heard that it's manageable so decide to go as far as we can with the kids. Well, they, of course, are little mountain goats, scampering up every rock face with just spindly tree roots to grab onto. We climb over four foot wide dead tree trunks, under fallen trees, up rocky slopes and through some of the most fabulous forest I've ever been in. It's wonderful.

After two and a half hours, we are nearing the cabin which is beside a big waterfall. We can hear the waterfall just ahead and Fernando remembers the final rock bluff we walk around. He's a few hundred yards ahead when he comes back, there's a big, big bear down at the falls. It's the shape of a black bear but creamy white and beige. I want to go and see but the kids are with me, so we wait a little, talking more loudly then normal to let the bear know we are there. I go on to look at the waterfalls, I want to see a bear! But he's gone and I return to the group. Gesa has been a few minutes behind everyone at this point, and comes walking up. Hey, I saw a bear go past me, sort of whiteish. She's the only other one of us to see it, which is a shame and a relief to everyone at the same time. We think it must be one of the rare 'spirit' bears, a black bear with a gene that makes their coat this colour. We had lunch at the ruined cabin, enjoyed the view down the inlet from the waterfall and then headed down. The kids were unstoppable, and tromped off ahead. When we got back to the dock it was, once again, appetisers and drinks for the adults, tales of hiking for the stay-at-homes and the kids ran up and down the dock, endlessly. Whilst we rested tired legs, they were bounding around. We all slept well, though.

We had a long lie in and a lazy day. Our friends took the kids off to the other end of the inlet where, out here in the middle of nowhere, is a big camp for high school kids run by a christian foundation. The place was once an upscale resort, with heated swimming pool and beautiful cabins; once that went bankrupt it became this summer camp with a stunning location, right at the rapids feeding into the inlet. On the way down they saw otter, mink and seals. Once there they had a tour of the place and freshly made ice cream. Luxury.

That evening we lit the camp fire in the fire pit ashore, inside a nice open lodge which would shelter us from any rain - though we've only had one brief shower all our time here - and catches the sparks from the fire. It's a lovely evening before an early night - we have to leave at six am to catch the slack water at the rapids on the way out.

Princess Louisa is indeed a very special place and we shall certainly be back. It's a long trek to get there, but well worth it.

Now we're on our way to Comox, over the course of four days, where we shall get ashore and sort out some of the realities of life, like looking for a place to rent in Cumberland. We'll get on the internet there too, so there will be plenty of pictures to come. Words can hardly do justice to the places we've been, pictures struggle even more but we shall try.....

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