Close Encounters of the Canadian Kind
Exploring Canada's east and west coasts on small ships for a deep immersion into the wonder of the country's ancient heritage and nature.
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| Captain Russel Markel, owner of Outer Shores Expeditions and the lovely schooner Passing Cloud with writer Toby Saltzman. |
WEST: On Outer Shores’ Passing Cloud
“Hishuk ish Tsawalk, Hishuk
ish Tsawalk, everything is interconnected.” The words, softly spoken with
spiritual veracity by Nuu-chah-nulth elder Denis St. Claire, reflected the
spirit of our jaunt to Benson Island, a remote isle at the wild, windswept edge
of Pacific Rim National Park. Perched on a rock in a clearing amid towering
cedars and spruce with deer grazing nearby St. Claire, who is legendary on
Vancouver Island’s west coast, as an archeologist and ethnographer, explained:
aeons ago, this village in the Broken Group archipelago was populated by the
Tseshaht people who thrived by foraging and fishing in a symbiotic relationship
with the land and sea. After we had
travelled to this spot by Zodiac boat with him from the schooner Passing Cloud, left anchored in Barkley
sound, sailing by scattered islets where trees grew from rocks with seemingly
indomitable strength, this elder’s stories gave the region historic and
cultural credence, and our little band of sailors an authentic appreciation for
what may have been taken for a simply scenic place.
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| Passing Cloud moored in Ucluelet Harbour. |
I had imagined
that sailing on Outer Shores Expeditions’ 70-footer (21-metre) designed by
William James Roué, the famed designer of the iconic schooner Bluenose, would be a caper, with sails
puffed on the breeze en route to idyllic islets. But when I boarded the sleek
wooden vessel in Ucluelet Harbour, and met owner (and captain) Russ Markel – at
47, an ecologist and environmentalist with a PhD in Marine biology – I sensed
this voyage would have a serious, though decidedly delightful, course. After
introducing first mate and marine scientist Joel White, chef Devon Carr, also a
marine biologist, and St. Claire – whose presence would allow access to sacred
ancient villages – Markel introduced the passengers, ranging from a 70-soething
couple from Santa Barbara, California, to a 30-ish woman who would be my cabin
mate and sleep in the upper bunk. After exploring the beautiful interior – its
classic wheel-house decorated with awards, including several first class racing
prizes; its skylit salon panelled in gleaming Douglas fir and wrapped with a
leather banquette facing a cast-iron heater; its three double-berth staterooms,
each with a vanity and sink; and the communal head with shower – we gathered on
deck for a gourmet snack, a harbinger of meals to come.
Markel primed us
for serendipity. “We have no set itinerary. Our route will flow with the
weather the tides and wildlife we encounter. We’ll see where the wind takes
us.” As he spoke, bald eagles soared above the masts. “Feel free to participate
as much as you like – steer, hoist the sails, pull the lines or wash the deck.”
Our morning
wake-up call was the sound and sight of loons dipping in the glassy water. Sailing past a range of 10 tooth-edged
mountain peaks, St. Claire said they symbolize the First Nations father who
married off 10 daughters to ultimately relate all people and expand his
population.
Uncovering our aboriginal past would be a common theme on the trip:
at Jake-Jarvis Lagoon, St. Claire showed us three ancient intact fish traps
that prove the cultural heritage of a village that existed before the 1800s.
Apparently 30 remain among the Broken Group, and a village discovered on
Dicebox Island dates to the 1500s. Then,
just as the tide rolled in, Markel navigated an incredibly thrilling course
through an arch carved by wind and waves, veering us into a kaleidoscopic
“forest” of starfish clinging to the rocks. After lunch, I stayed o board for
lessons on unleashing and hoisting the sails while, on shore, Carr led an
excursion to Turret Island (known as Mukwah) to harvest fresh oysters for
dinner.
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| At Jake-Jarvis Lagoon, ancient intact fish traps prove cultural heritage before the 1800s. |
Flocks of
cormorants flew overhead – cackling as if to alert our daily intrusion in their
world – as the Zodiac skimmed over choppy waters to Ayapiyis, a rocky,
barrier-reef island once inhabited by the Tseshaht. On land, a long-orange-billed oystercatcher
was obviously distressed. Figuring its nest was nearby, we moved below its
tidewater line location where we were regaled by stories and lore of the
region’s canoe battles.
In spite of rain
and hail, we navigated through estuary channels to Yasiyis, a glassy lagoon on
the edge of Vancouver Island’s rainforest, to take a hike and look for
bears. Silently hunkering down on wet
grass, we watched, breathless, as a white-tailed deer nibbling grass at the
water’s edge swiftly vanished when a black bear lumbered out of the
forest. It was an exquisite sense of
immersion in nature, somehow made even better with what was to come: en route
back to the ship, we took pause to take in the view. Sunshine illuminated the sea floor, exposing
brilliantly hued starfish, sea anemones, giant red sea urchins and moon snails.
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| Watching for bears in the Great Bear Rainforest, with a handy umbrella to protect camera lens. |
On our last
night, at dinner, the one-with-nature experience culminated with pure joy as my
cabin mate slurped and oyster and felt something hard on her tongue: a tiny
pearl.
Bon voyage, lovely Passing Cloud.
Bon voyage, lovely Passing Cloud.
Exploring Canada's eastern coasts of Newfoundland and Labrador |
| Deep in the Torngat Mountains, the scenery unfolded as Ocean Endeavour navigated through Nachvak Fiord to Talk Arm. |
EAST: On Adventure Canada’s Ocean Endeavour
Sailing from Newfoundland’s scenic St. John’s Harbour,
we came to see three UNESCO World Heritage sites: Red Bay, L’Anse aux Meadows
and the remote Torngat Mountains. But it
was more than just to see them; we wanted to know them.
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| Departing Rose Blanche in the Zodiac with Matthew James Swan. |
Started by their
parents in 1988, Adventure Canada was inherited by siblings Alana Swan Faber,
Matthew James Swan and Cedar Bradley Swan, with her husband, Jason Edmunds, and
embodies the spirit of exploratory expeditions.
The staff, too, on board Adventure Canada’s Ocean Endeavour reflected this and included a slate of scientific
researchers, cultural experts and notable resource people including “GoogleGuy”
John Bailey – who would map the terrain with a 15-camera headgear for
360-degree panoramas – and Gilles Garnier, Canadian
Geographic publisher. And the roster of writers participating in the ship’s
Floating Book Club included Margaret Atwood and Graeme Gibson, who were on our
sailing, as well as Terry Fallis and Kathleen Winter and their publisher, Doug
Gibson. Clad in an embroidered vest,
Mi’kmaq First Nations Chief Saqamaw Mi’sel Joe introduced us to Inuit
culture. He extolled the people’s innate
connection to the land: “We must believe ‘two eyes see: see the past and see
the future.’”
Dazzling photo
ops proved easy. Lacy mists over the
French archipelago of St. Pierre and Miquelon inspired Impressionist-like seascapes. Sunlight bouncing off the 1873 granite
lighthouse and quintessential fishing village of Rose Blanche facilitated
luminous images as we sailed past, en route to Gros Morne National Park. As the narrow fiord opened ahead of us to
Bonne Bay and Woody Point, its gateway, there was silence, apart from the
sounds of cameras snapping. Spanning 1,805 square kilometres of western
Newfoundland, Gros Morne is part of the towering Long Range Mountains. A Parks Canada guide led us to a place
seemingly born of two worlds: on one side, a barren U-shaped valley tinted in
palettes of ochre and orange-red rises to a mountain plateau; on the other, verdant
turf thick with shrubs, juniper and larch trees sloping to the sea. This is a
rare place, we are told, where the earth’s mantle rose from 70 kilometres below
the earth’s crust to lie on the planet’s surface. The guide showed the children on the cruise
how Newfoundland’s floral emblem, the pitcher plant, traps insects. As we sailed away from Bonne Bay, pods of minke
and pilot whales frolicked in our wake.
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| The Ocean Endeavour anchored in Nain Harbour. |
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| Families are welcome on Adventure Canada's Ocean Endeavour. In the Zodiac in Nain Harbour. |
In Nain, Labrador, a small Nunatsiavut community tucked at the base of Mt. Sophie, we were greeted by the mayor, a host of proud townspeople and kids showing of cycle wheelies. I sensed Nain is on the cusp of cultivating a revitalization of their cultural integrity by sharing it with others. Heading back with ornithologist Cam Gillies, his children raved to me about the Inuits’ traditional games.
In contrast, the history of Hebron magnified the stunning remoteness of one of the Inuit people’s most culturally revered and sacred spots in Labrador. The Hebron Mission Station – established by Moravian Christian missionaries in the 1830s – was disbanded in 1959, and its Inuit residents forcibly resettled. Today, the Moravian church is being restored, and Hebron is the base camp and research station for Torngat Mountains National Park, which sees barely 700 visitors annually.
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| Exploring Ramah Bay with friends. |
Bleak in fog, Ramah Bay belied the intrinsic significance of its rocky landscape, oldest on the planet at more than 2.5 billion years. Geologist Tom Gordon prompted us to look for pieces of Ramah Chert: a rare crystalline stone Nunatsiavut’s prehistoric people used for tools 7,000 years ago. Graeme Gibson found a chunk. From Ramah Bay to Nachvak Fiord to Talk Arm, the scenery unfolded with dynamic splendour at 5,500-foot-high mountains appeared striated and swirled as if sketched by nature’s brush.
Cruising Saglek Fiord,
we glimpsed first views of the Torngat Mountains. Atwood spotted a duo of polar bears. I gasped at their agility. On a 1.25-kilometre hike across the Torngat’s
sub-Arctic tundra – over rocky elevations and stony streams – I strode
alongside Graeme Gibson and Atwood. She
wore a scarf tied under her broad-brimmed hat “so the bugs won’t bite.” Gibson
recognized every bird’s flight and song.
Atwood nimbly pointed her walking stick to identify wildflowers and
herbs. “How did you get such
encyclopedic knowledge?” I asked. She
replied, “Growing up in the woods, daughter of a scientist.” At a patch thick with violets, white
bakeapple and pink dwarf firewood, she stopped to pull tiny green leaves.
“Taste this,” she said, nibbling on it. “It’s sorrel.”
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| In the Zodiac with Margaret Atwood. |
While anchoring
in Eclipse Sound, no one anticipated the thrill of venturing to previously
unexplored territory. Though aerial aps
showed a waterfall exists at the end of the Eclipse River, no one had yet seen
it by navigating the river to see it, as far as the crew knew. But we must.
Bailey is here to map the terrain for the first time for Google and,
after hiking the cliff with Inuit guides through ribbons of mist to a view of
the torrential waterfall, we rushed back to the shore and jumped in a
Zodiac. Our leader navigated between
sheer rocky walls close enough to feel the waterfall’s bubbling spray on our
faces without even seeing it yet – and then the river turned, and it was
there. I thought back to another moment,
when, feeling rapturously high on top of a lofty plateau overlooking another
waterfall and Ugluktok Fiord, I turned to Graeme Gibson and asked, “How many
superlatives can I use in one sentence.” He quipped, “For this place, as many
as you can fit in.”
SHIPS’ SHAPES
Outer Shore’s eight-passenger Passing
Cloud tours Barkley Sound and the Broken Group Islands in British Columbia.
Adventure Canada’s 198-passenger Ocean
Endeavour features an itinerary around Newfoundland and Labrador.
Size does matter here, as these ships offer accessibility to niche
expeditions impossible for large cruise lines.
Both vessels share commonalities. Sustainable environmentalism and
culturally sensitive programs are intrinsic to their core and their owners act
like ambassadors to Canada’s wilderness, giving a sense of its true nature.
Passengers tend to be learned intrepid travellers flexible to
spontaneous changes, knowing they are not masters of the universe.
For the parks, go to www.parkscanada.gc.ca and
whc.unesco.org/en/statesparties/ca
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