Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Destination Northern British Columbia


Summer in British Columbia is as good as it gets anywhere so we pack up the car for three weeks of northern exploration. The first night we stay at the oceanfront, historic Lund Hotel (1895) at the end of the road as far as cars can drive on the Sunshine Coast.


We watch the sun set from the table at The Boardwalk Restaurant where we have dinner.


Our waitress tells us this local lady comes out every night at sunset to play the bagpipes on the mountainside. The beautiful music echoes over the bay, a fitting serenade to end our day and begin our journey.


Remember last year’s kayaking trip to Jedediah Island with our friends, Dianne and Dave? Well, it seems it’s becoming an annual event. We set off at Lund, kayaks fully stocked, in search of a prime camping spot in the Copeland Islands.




Here it is. “Our” island, a place Dianne and Dave have been to before and one of their favourites. We have it all to ourselves and promptly set up camp in time for happy hour and the setting sun.




Campfire Dave sparks a mean fire.


Gotta have roasted marshmallows. Bit hot by this fire...



Lights out.


Sandi eases into the day with her morning coffee, the zipper of the tent tight around her dusty shoes to keep the dirt and mosquitos out.


A room with a view.


Di’s a pro camper and whips up très gourmet, homemade oatmeal for breakfast.



Time to explore the surrounding islands.


We saw Oyster Catchers like these in the Galapagos Islands.




Our secluded bay tempts us to have a swim.




Another happy happy hour.



Back in Lund we make a beeline for Nancy’s Bakery, famous around these parts for having the best cinnamon buns this side of Stockholm (where they originated) and even better after four days of camping and kayaking in the wild.


Not enough can be said about the civilized things of life.


We drive to Powell River, built in 1910 for the sole purpose of providing housing for mill workers, and board a ferry to Comox on Vancouver Island. Sandi’s reward from Tim for camping with no amenities is coming and it can’t come soon enough for her.


Aaaahh, two days of pampering the Kingfisher Spa.


Tim likes it too.


Nestled in an old growth forest on the eastern shore of Vancouver Island, the Kingfisher Spa offers a unique Hydropath mist experience. We follow a path as it winds through a re-created West Coast shoreline featuring sandstone sculpted water massage caves and pools.


Next stop, Telegraph Cove for some whale watching. Telegraph Cove’s history as a lumber mill and salmon saltery goes back to the early 20th century.




It isn’t long before we spot an Orca (or Killer) Whale.



And more.








A Humpback Whale feeds on crill close to the shore.


This group of kayakers gets their money’s worth as a Humpback Whale surfaces within feet of their kayaks. What a thrill!


Seals bask on a rock.




A Bald-Headed Eagle surveys from a high perch.



Heading north we pass through the town of Port NcNeill which boasts the world’s largest burl, 350 years old.


Sandi’s dad worked at the lumber mill in Port Alice many years ago when he first came to Canada before there was even a road. These photos are for you, dad. You’ve come a long way baby!








Tim leads us on a walk in the woods on a trail outside the town of Port Hardy where we’re about to catch a ferry to Prince Rupert.


The scenic, 16-hour, 500 km, ferry ride through the Inside Passage weaves it’s way through islands along British Columbia’s west coast. It offers passengers the natural splendor of what luxury cruiselines offer, for a fraction of the cost.



Whale sightings are common on ferry crossings here. A Humback Whale waves at us with it’s fin.





Totem poles welcome us as we arrive in Prince Rupert, known as the “City of Rainbows” which is a nice way of saying it rains a lot. In fact, it rains 220 days a year giving the city one of the highest precipitation rates in all of Canada.


The fascinating North Pacific Cannery Village Museum just outside the city of Prince Rupert explores the history of fishing and canning along the Skeena River. Used from 1889 to 1968, exhibits document the miserable conditions of the workers, along with the workings of this industry that helped build this region.



“Spider”, our informative and entertaining guide, has a long history fishing in Canada. He acquired his nickname because he was so adept at mending web-like fishing nets for fishermen.






Do you recognize your favourite brand of canned salmon? It could have been produced here.


We also tour the The Museum of Northern British Columbia. Through excellent exhibits and superb documentation, the museum shows how local civilization enjoyed sustainable cultures that lasted for thousands of years. Above is a rare example of a Tsimshian (meaning “people of the Skeena”) mortuary bear carving.


First Nations headdress made of bear claws.






We squeeze in a walk on the Butze Rapids Trail before boarding another ferry bound for Skidegate on Graham Island in Haida Gwaii.



Haida Gwaii is a magical land of power and peace, a group of islands some have called Canada’s Galapagos, on the edge of the continental shelf, ranging 50-130 kilometers out in the Pacific Ocean from British Columbia’s mainland. Haida Gwaii is the name the First Nations people originally called the Queen Charlotte Islands.


The islands have been inhabited continuously for thousands of years and are the traditional homeland of the Haida nation, generally acknowledged as the prime culture in the country at the time the Europeans arrived. Though they were fearsome warriors who dominated BC’s West Coast, they had few defences against the diseases—primarily smallpox and tuberculosis—that were introduced by the European explorers and traders.


In 1835, the Haida population was estimated at 6000; in 1915, that number had shrunk to only 588.


Today, the Haida are proud, politically active and defiant people who make up one-third of Haida Gwaii’s population.



Small deer graze by the side of the road as we make our way to Tlell.



We check out the annual Tlell Fair which has displays of local arts and crafts and lots of livestock to pet like this adorable Alpaca.


Isn’t he the cutest?


Does anyone remember Valdy from the mid-70s? Well, he’s alive and well and still at it. We find him strumming and crooning folk songs at the fair.


The Stone Circle at Tlell celebrates the geological history of Haida Gwaii. Designed in a circular form reminescent of the ancient Medicine Wheel, eight columns support eight large stone specimens. One can truly understand how the legendary Haida story of Raven and First Men came to be when you see how huge these bivalves once were (above).


Skidegate, is home to the Haida Heritage Centre which includes a museum which houses the world's largest collection of argillite carvings. It has a gorgeous, multiple-longhouse design and a powerful, beautifully-curated collection of historic totem poles and contemporary and historic Haida art.


Tim admires a large Haida canoe paddle used as a rudder.


The arts of the Haida people—notably their totem poles and carvings in argillite (a dark, glass-like slate found only in southeast Alaska and on these islands) are world renowned.



A five-foot whale bone carving shows an Inuit woman transforming into a mermaid.





An old photo of Haida people in traditional dress.



Instead of communicating their rich pasts through words on a page, native tribes have told stories through the masterful art of carving, drawing and painting. Art has long been a method of expression intimately linked with historical and cultural preservation, religion and social ceremony. The artistry of northwest coast native groups is as intricate as it is simple. One of the most spectacular examples of this is the totem pole.


Carved from a single cedar trunk, totems identify a household’s lineage in the same way a family crest might identify a group or clan in England, although the totem pole is more of a historical pictograph depicting the entire ancestry. Like a family crest, totem poles carry a sense of prestige and prosperity.


Despite the expression ‘low man on the totem pole’, the most important figures are usually at eye level; figures at the bottom usually serve an integral, grounding function that supports the rest of the pole. Totem figures can represent individuals, spirits, births, deaths, catastrophes or legends.


Paddled 100 km from Vancouver's Expo ’86, this 40-foot canoe’s graceful design is beautiful.


Sandpipers pick for an evening meal at dusk on the beach at Tlell.


In 1929 a log barge called the Pesuta ran aground in a storm near the mouth of the Tlell River. It’s wreck is still there and makes a great day hike through lush forests or along the sandy beach.


This isn’t a Haida art form, just a message from Tim to Sandi. Awww...



Port Clements.






The Haida are a warrior-like, proud people reclaiming a 10,000 year-old traditional life that is so rich in myth and legend that local artists are leading the nation into the new century. Massett, Graham Island’s largest town has a population of 1,500. It leads to Old Massett, one of the largest Haida settlements on the island, and a good place to shop for carvings and jewelry.




Smoked salmon is a favourite and important food for Haida people. Here it dries on the front porch of a house.


The totem poles of Old Masset are a stark, powerful representation of the culture’s past and contemporary vitality.







This totem pole has been left unpainted.



Beautiful, thick cedar tree forests line the road on the way to North Beach.


Near the end of the road lies Tow Hill, a columnar, basalt outcropping. We hike for an hour to the top where we enjoy incredible views of the north end of Naikoon National Park as well as north to Alaska.


The view of Rose Point, the most northerly tip of the Haida Gwaii islands.


The view west.


Cedar has been and is the backbone of many parts of Haida daily life. Totem poles, houses, canoes and clothing all came from cedar.




We search for the Blowhole, which spurts out ocean water on incoming tides.


Interesting basalt formations.


Tow Hill in the background.


Cars are allowed to drive on the beach which stretches seemingly forever into the mists.



Agate Beach. There’s one!


Enroute to North Beach we discover the mossy, forest retreat, Moon Over Naikoon Bakery, nestled in the woods by the side of the road. This is the Starbucks of Haida Gwaii and we settle in for coffee and a blueberry bar.






In the town of Skidegate, Roberta Olson cooks Haida feasts for guests in her home. We sit around her long, dining room table in a seaside room full of Haida art and family memorabilia. With the help of her granddaughters, Roberta serves a feast that begins with an appetizer plate of octopus, seaweed, bannock and very dry, smoked salmon.


Crab salad next.




Roberta’s sweet granddaughter, Taylor, serves chutney to the guests.




It seems one can’t take a bad photo in Haida Gwaii.


Sandi’s pick for a good read on the history of the Haida people: the Northwest Coast classic, Raven’s Cry, published in 1966. It’s a novel based on the preceding 150 years of Haida Amerindian history and the culture’s near destruction.


Back on the mainland we head east to Hazelton which sits within the walls of the rugged Rocher de Boule (Mountain of Rolling Rock), near the confluence of the Skeena and Bulkley Rivers. The area abounds in First Nations villages.


The K’san Historical Village is a replicated Gitksan native village. Tours take us past the Frog House, Wolf House and Fireweed House.



To get to Hazelton we cross the fascinating, one-lane Hagwilget Suspension Bridge 100 meters over the Skeena River.


Tim bravely walks across to get this photo of the vertigo-inducing view of the gorge below.



We spend the night in Smithers, dine on moussaka at Rob’s Restaurant, sip martinis and listen to open-mike jazz at the sushi joint and hike to the twin waterfalls (not necessarily in that order).


This is what you see the most on northern British Columbian roads.


Between 1858 and 1861, when the Cariboo Wagon Road edged north from Kamloops to Quesnel, ramshackle towns hastily built by gold prospectors from around the world sprang up along the road.


In 1862 one member of this new international population hit the jackpot, making $1000 in the first two days of his gold claim. Despite his luck, Cornishman Billy Barker probably had no clue that more than 100,000 salivating miners would leap into his footsteps, crossing rivers, creeks and lakes to storm the Cariboo Wagon Road in search of gold. Soon Barkerville sprang up to become, for a brief time, the largest city west of Chicago and north of San Francisco. In its heyday, some 10,000 people resided in the muddy town, hoping to hit jackpots of their own.


If Billy was clueless about the gold rush, then he most certainly never predicted that people would still be flocking here to see Barkerville as it was, albeit with more fudge for sale than when the miners were here. Happily there is the odd bit of horse poop here and there to lend some authenticity.


More than 125 buildings have been restored to their former glory, including a hotel, various stores and a saloon. In summer people dressed in period garb explain the town’s history.




Tim tries his hand at gold panning and considers it a possible career option if the stock market falters.


Euerka! Thar’s gold in them thar hills!... but Sandi’s not sure it’s going to be enough for a ring.




St. Saviour’s Anglican Church began construction in 1868.



Sandi with the Theatre Royal performers who put on a spirited performance about life and times in the Gold Rush.



Peter Gibson, the oldest resident in Barkerville’s graveyard, died of “mountain fever” (thyphoid). The headboard is original.




We have dinner at the Lung Duck Tong Restaurant in the Chinese section of Barkerville. The Chinese were an important part of Barkerville for almost a hundred years. They established a number of businesses, including Kwong Lee Company, a general store that sold groceries, clothing, hardware and mining tools.


We stay in the historic town of Wells near Barkerville at the Wells Hotel, built in 1934.


Oh deer, our journey is over and we’re hightailing it home.