By the time we got anchored up in Kakushdish, the wind had come up, so I wasn’t able to go paddling.  However, Al noticed a flock of birds heading our way.  When I looked through the binoculars, I couldn’t believe my eyes.  This was the largest flock of mergansers I’d ever seen.  I counted 25!  They seemed to be having a great time.

We’ve decided to head to Shearwater this morning, where we’ll fill up with fuel, in preparation for heading home.

When we got to Seaforth Channel, the fog rolled in.  Not fun.  Luckily, we only had about 14 miles of ugly.

This is peak season for Shearwater, so we felt really lucky that they were able to find a spot for us at the dock.  Fishing is so bad this year, it looks like all the commercial fishing boats have given up.  They were all tied up at the dock.

We had hoped to leave by 0800 hrs, but the fog that crept in last night hasn’t lifted.  By 1000 hrs, it looked like we might have a mile of visibility out in Mathieson, so we decided to give it a go.

On our way out of Rescue Bay, I spotted this pair of red-throated loons getting ready to dive.

When we got out into Mathieson Channel, we found the visibility was better than we thought.  Pretty soon, we had about 5 miles of visibility, smooth waters and no fog…. life is good.

There was only one small powerboat anchored in Oliver Cove when we arrived, leaving us lots of anchoring choices.  The wind was blowing about 15 knots, so I didn’t go paddling.  Lucky for me, because this immature eagle caught a nice salmon and found a lovely dining spot near the boat.

The sunset tonight was beautiful.

The fog is so dense in the bay this morning you can hardly see the shore.  But, it doesn’t take long before the sun burns through and I’m able to resume my search for sandhill cranes.  

The tide is low, making the sandhill crane’s coloring the perfect camouflage for this muddy, rock-strewn beach.  I searched the shore for quite a while before spotting this sandhill browsing the rocks, looking for low tide goodies.  Could this be the same lone sandhill crane that I found here last month?  Unfortunately, the sandhill was too far away for a decent shot, and the sun was behind him.  Not good.  So, I finally decided to risk going ashore, hoping some wolf or bear wouldn’t decide this was a good place to hunt for sandhills also.  I pulled my kayak quite a ways up the beach, just in case the tide came up while I was gone.

The sandhill kept moving farther and farther away from the shore.  By now I couldn’t see my kayak, which made me nervous.  I finally decided to go back and move the kayak farther up the beach.  I found an outcropping of rock and put the kayak on top of the rocks.  The tide would have to come up a couple of feet to reach it.  

The sandhill was almost to the trees when I caught up to him.  I think he was getting a little suspicious that I might be a threat.

I was starting to feel a bit nervous, myself, wondering about those wolves and bears.  So, I decided to leave the Sandhill in peace and head back to my kayak before I became lunch.

I headed for the entrance to Rescue, where I found this heron perched in the highest tree.  Maybe he wanted to check on that fog out in Mathieson Channel.

These Bonaparte’s gulls were claiming this little rock their own, at least until the tide came in.

I found this sandhill crane fishing near the boat.  

Finally, we have wall-to-wall blue skies in Rescue Bay.  Just outside the anchorage, in Mathieson Channel, however, there’s a dense layer fog right down on the water.   The fog doesn’t seem to concern the owner of this sailboat.  I hope he’s got a good radar.

I’m up early this morning, hoping to find a sandhill crane like I did the last time we were here.  The sun is so bright that the glare on the water is blinding.  There are 5 or 6 herons fishing along the shore, but, of course, there is no way to capture them without shooting right into the sun.  Not good.

I heard sandhill cranes calling, so I paddled over to the cove where I found the one last time.  Nothing.  So, I gave up on finding any sandhills and headed out toward the entrance.  I spotted this loon along the way.

The extra-low tide exposed this colorful colony of sea stars.

The temperature got up to 87^oF today, the first day all summer that I’ve had to wear shorts.  There isn’t a breath of air stirring.

The sun is shining as we head for Klemtu this morning for fresh produce.  The Indian band store opens around noon, depending on how quickly they can restock the shelves.  Unfortunately, we’ll be faced with a very low tide about that time, so getting everything aboard will be as difficult as last time.

The big tide has washed lots of logs from the shore.  There were so many logs in Klemtu Passage we had trouble finding a passageway.  At times, Al had to put the engines in neutral and use the bow and stern thrusters to steer our way through.

When we arrived at Klemtu, we were pleasantly surprised to find the fuel dock empty.  This is our lucky day.   After tying up, Al got an empty propane tank out that needing filling, while I got ready to hit the store.  As it turned out, there was no need to rush, because the store wasn’t open yet.  They were still restocking.  

While waiting for the store to open, we chatted with a Canadian couple who had tied up behind us shortly after we arrived.  They live in Penn Harbour and have been cruising up here every summer as long as we have.  We got to talking about Kermode bears and discovered that they had seen us maneuvering a very dicey entry into one of the small anchorages at Emily Carr a few years ago.  They didn’t think a boat as big as our could make it through, and had been impressed.  Small world.

As soon as the doors opened, we made a beeline for produce.  While Al picked up a couple of bags of cherries before they were all gone, I concentrated on mangoes, plums, pears, nectarines, apples, and tomatoes, which also disappear quickly.  For veggies, we were able to pick up broccoli, corn on the cob, zucchini, cauliflower and  onions.  We’ll be in good shape for the next few weeks.

Thankfully, the tide had come up a bit by the time we finished shopping, so getting everything down the ramp to the fuel dock wasn’t nearly as dangerous as the last time we were here.  The wind was picking up quite a bit, so we quickly got underway for Rescue Bay, just a 1-1/2 hour run from Klemtu.  While underway, I rinsed all the veggies with water and a little bleach so that they would last longer, and stowed everything.

There weren’t any boats anchored in Rescue Bay.  Nice.

This red-throated loon was fishing nearby.

As I’m brushing my teeth this morning, I notice something splashing water along the shoreline.  With the binoculars I discover that it’s the mergansers I’ve heard quacking every day, but never could find.  So, I drop everything and suit up as quickly as I can, hoping to finally get a shot of them.

I paddled as stealthily as I could, but momma merganser immediately got her brood up on shore behind a rock while she stood absolutely still, keeping her eye on me, and hoping I hadn’t spotted them.

I crept along the rocky shore trying to get a better shot.  I found a spot where I could wedge myself among the rocks, so that the current wouldn’t keep turning me around, and waited for momma to make her move.  I took shot after shot, each one a duplicate of the previous shot, since she never moved a muscle, still staring me down.  Then, pandemonium broke out, as she herded her crew down to the water, and I struggled to get my kayak turned around.

When I pushed against the rocks with my paddle, the kayak wouldn’t budge.  My first thought was that my skeg was stuck in a crevice.  The skeg, however, was not the problem.  While I had been patiently waiting for the mergansers to come out of hiding, the tide had gone down just enough to leave me high and dry.   I scooted forward and stepped out onto the rocks to get my weight off the kayak.  That’s when I discovered I’d been pivoting on a pinnacle rock.  Once off the rock, I was able to get back in and try to catch up with the mergansers.  By now, they were paddling like crazy, probably laughing like crazy, and getting farther and farther away.

Oh, well.  You win some, you lose some.  On the bright side, I didn’t wind up with a hole in the bottom of my kayak.

I never caught up with the mergansers, but this kingfisher was nice enough to let me take his picture.

And, lucky for me, this very laid-back loon wasn’t camera-shy at all.

He was such a ham, he even waved.

It’s another drizzly day as I set out for the entrance this morning.  Along the way I spotted this loon fishing for breakfast.

Once outside, there wasn’t much going on.  The only thing stirring was this least sandpiper, and he wasn’t stopping long enough for me to focus in on him.

The rain is too heavy to go paddling today, but this momma seal and her pup floated by the boat on a log they’d commandeered.

Pretty soon they had a neighbor join them at the opposite end of the log.

This log was like a magnet attracting all seals in the area.

We have a spring tide today, so the low tide this morning is really low.  As I’m brushing my teeth, getting ready to leave for Bottleneck Inlet, I spotted a grizzly at the point of land where the seal rookery used to be.  Due to the lack of salmon this year, the seals have apparently moved their rookery elsewhere, not wanting to wind up being the grizzly’s alternate source of protein.

The fog burned off early, so we were able to get underway for Bottleneck before the wind came up.  The seas were flat and we had good visibility the whole way.  

This whale and her baby were feeding along the shore in Hiekish Narrows, surfacing just long enough for me to get this long shot.

We’ll hang out in Bottleneck, waiting for the supply barge to arrive at Klemtu on Saturday.