Jump aboard a 25-foot, twin outboard-powered plywood hull at a Seattle moorage and head for Alaska…that is what a college fraternity brother and I did on a dare several decades ago.  My status as a Coast Guard veteran lent an aura of credibility to this attempt to negotiate some wild waters and mostly wilderness coastline for a round trip of over 2,000 nautical miles, all within a three week time frame.

We made it, but not without a slew of memorable adventures.  Recounting 
highlights, our third day northward was highlighted by my slippage on the deck into the drink, with my compatriot swinging our craft around to the rescue.  We spent that night in Comox, halfway up the east coast of Vancouver island, where we consumed fried local oyster sandwiches and beer at a commercial fishermens’ hangout, and succumbed to an offer to take us Coho Salmon fishing the next dawn.  Two small salmon were the result of this expedition, plus wild tales including the fact that local Coho were wont to decapitate themselves in feeding frenzies by attacking outboard motor props.

Isolated places abound on this trip

We proceeded northeast across the Straits of Georgia to dock in Lund, terminus of the lengthy road and ferry link north along the British Columbia coastline from Vancouver.  Leaving Lund the next morning, we motored into Desolation Sound, so named by British explorer Captain George Vancouver, who must not have experienced the majesty of this expanse of water and its majestic alpine background in clear weather.  Refueling at a floating petrol station at Refuge Cove, we asked about fishing opportunities in the neighborhood.  This led to a winning piscatorial trifecta…fly casting for trout in a lake just behind the gas stop, harvesting a nearby Butter Clam bed at low tide and a successful evening troll for salmon.

And Oysters, too!

Next morn we left the Desolation area heading northward up Waddington Channel, whose rock walled shoreline revealed masses of oysters exposed at low tide.  This awesome display inspired an easy harvest on our part which provided raw bivalves on the half shell for the next two days.  Next stop was Stuart Island, where the Inside Passage narrows to a threading of evergreen wilderness islands northward.  Our chart carried a warning about entering this 
waterway only on slack tides, since the many miles of  deep, fjord-like Bute 
and Toba Inlets leading inland from here gather prodigious amounts of  glacier melt from bordering peaks that is flushed into the saltchuck, creating awesome tidal rips.  We pulled into Big Bay Marina just as the tide began to activate outside the harbor entry.  

This moorage produced a trio of memorable experiences: (1) a local Indian lad gave us a ride on his high powered, flat bottomed skiff during full rip tide in the Yuculta Rapids, flying over fathoms-deep whirlpools while flocks of 
screaming Gulls circled to snare baitfish thrown in the air by these saltwater 
centrifuges; (2) we met a recently retired couple from Tacoma that shared our 
moorage aboard their 30-foot cruiser purchased in Puget Sound just prior to 
heading north…they were sadly ill-equipped with only a single large scale map of British Columbia…and were shaken to the core by entering the Yuculta as it began to churn…they had purchased a chart at the marina and vowed to head south to calm waters at dawn; (3) preparing to leave ourselves, we suddenly faced a balking outboard and found salvation with the same young Indian who had given us the tide rip ride…he explained that mastery of outboard mechanics was a must for those living in this region and his diagnosis and replacement of a faulty generator got us on our way for a $48 investment.
As our charts revealed and we were to experience firsthand, our marine 
adventure had just begun.

                                (TO BE CONTINUED)

© 2003 Oregon Magazine