Great Bear Rainforest (3 page)

An old growth forest being clear-cut

BELLA BELLA


Brad got us to Bella Bella after about an hour-long flight and I have to compliment him on his landing. I mean, it was perfect, with the plane touching down in the inlet as smooth as a pelican gliding onto water. From there he steered us to an old, decaying dock near the village, and now we’re just waiting for a ride to the Pacific Yellowfin, which is anchored in a deep bay a few minutes away.

According to Brad, about 1,400 people live in Bella Bella, mostly descendants of the native tribe, Heiltsuk. Apartment buildings and small homes line the shore. Just about everyone has a satellite dish and almost all of the buildings are painted sky blue or white, probably to give some kind of color to a place that sits under gray skies for most of the year.

I see a little center consol boat speeding toward us from across the inlet. I’m guessing this is our ride.

More later …

4:32 PM
BELLA BELLA, B.C.
14° CELSIUS, 57° FAHRENHEIT
CLOUDY SKIES, WIND 10-15 MPH


As we raced toward the bay in the water taxi, a mist blew through the air and I could taste the ocean on my lips. Rounding a small island, the ship came into view. The Pacific Yellowfin, our home for the next ten days!

Captain Colin and the crew were gathered on the starboard bow, awaiting our arrival.

“Welcome, explorers!” Captain Colin hollered as we neared the ship. “Climb aboard! The Great Bear awaits!”

The Pacific Yellowfin awaiting our arrival

Wearing a pressed black oxford shirt with captain stripes proudly displayed over his broad shoulders, Captain Colin O’Brien is a respectable figure. First off, he’s tall, about six feet, two inches, with red hair and fair, freckled skin. Second, he has this thunderous voice that makes him sound very confident in all that he says. Third, he’s worked on boats longer than I’ve been alive. In over a quarter century as a ship captain, he has navigated almost every ocean on the planet. It’s the northwest coast of British Columbia, however, that he decided to make his home. This is a place, he said, that captures his imagination more than any other.

In addition to Captain Colin are two other men with over fifty years of experience between them. “Salty” Joe Bollock, first mate and cook, and Liam Glasgow, chief engineer and self-proclaimed “man who can fix anything, anytime, anywhere.”

Salty Joe has the look of a hardened seaman with a prickly white crew cut and weathered skin. Short and stocky, his eyes are narrow slits, his face has deep lines, and he speaks out of the left side of his mouth. Basically, he looks like an old pirate. Joe took his first job aboard a crab boat at the age of fifteen, thirty-seven years ago, and has had no desire to return to a “life on land” since.

Liam, on the other hand, looks nothing like a pirate. He has blond hair and fair skin and was brought up in a small town in the San Juan Islands. After graduating from the University of British Columbia, he went in search of adventure and found it working aboard a cargo ship that transported goods to Asia. After that, he spent seven years as a sailing instructor, guiding trips throughout the South Pacific and Australia on a 42-foot Whitby center cockpit. Now, he’s enjoying his favorite job of all, as a crewmember on the Pacific Yellowfin.

We are definitely in good hands.

Just as we finished bringing our luggage aboard,
the
Dr. Hans Brezner descended the steps from the captain’s bridge.

“Welcome aboard,” he said, as he hopped off the last step to greet us.

Dr. Brezner is tall and slightly thinner than I had expected. But he certainly looks the part of a renowned scientist, with multiple pens clipped inside his breast pocket, a journal in his left hand, and a set of round spectacles resting halfway down his nose. His hair has grayed since I’d last seen a photo of him on the cover of
Earth Science
magazine a few years ago.

Captain Colin introduced everyone.

“Which of you boys is the scientist-in-training?” he asked.

“That would be my nerdy brother,” Gannon said quietly to himself, but loud enough for me to hear.

I gave him a shot to the ribs with my elbow and stepped forward.

“That’s me,” I said, proudly.

Dr. Brezner reached out and shook my hand firmly.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said.

“It’s a real honor,” I said.

“So, Doctor,” the captain said, “do you think you’ll be able to teach this young lad a thing or two?”

The doctor replied, “I suppose I’ve acquired some wisdom over the years that might prove useful to a young man with an interest in the environment.”

“That would be great,” I said, almost at a loss for words.

“Now, if you will all follow me,” the captain said, “I’ll give you a quick tour of the ship.”

“Yes, I have some work to do,” Dr. Brezner said. “I’m sure I’ll catch up with all of you later.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I said.

He gave me a nod, turned, and ran back up the steps to the bridge. I still can’t believe I met the great Dr. Brezner, and that he’s actually on this ship with us! To me, he’s a total rock star!

We followed the captain as he gave us a tour.

One hundred and fourteen feet from stem to stern and painted the color of the morning sun, the Pacific Yellowfin has quite a history. Built in 1943, this wooden ship was initially put to use as a World War II mine-setting vessel. After the war, it cruised the world, operating in many different capacities; from a floating hospital to a top-secret spy ship. Ultimately, it was purchased by Captain Colin and converted to a passenger cruiser. In recent years, the captain had restored several rooms to their original grandeur. As the captain told us prior to our arrival, “She’s as much a museum as she is a boat.”

The captain showed my parents to their room.

“Mom and Dad get the Owner’s Stateroom,” the captain said.

“Thank you, Captain,” my mom said, beaming.

“Gannon and Wyatt,” the captain continued, “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the Orca Cabin down below.”

The captain led us downstairs to a miniature room with a ceiling so low you’ll hit your head if you stand upright. There is a writing desk in the corner. Atop the desk, is a small lamp. The room has a deep closet with shelving and space for our gear. A wooden bunk is propped against the far wall under two porthole windows.

When I put my face up to the glass, I noticed that the surface of the sea was just inches below the window. It was so close I wondered if I might see a whale swim by. I guess that’s why they call it the Orca Cabin.

“Adequate accommodations?” the captain asked.

“It will do,” Gannon said with a smile.

“Good. Then go ahead and get yourselves situated. We’re lifting anchor in ten minutes.”

“Yes, Cap’n Colin,” Gannon said with a playful salute.

“I hope you brought along plenty of courage,” the captain said. “I’ve arranged a bear-viewing excursion with Alu, an expert guide from Hartley Bay. It begins at first light, and the area you’ll be exploring is prime grizzly habitat.”

Gannon gulped.

“Do you really think we’ll see a bear?” he asked.

“I’m almost certain of it. They don’t call it the Great Bear Rainforest for nothing.”

Tipping his hat, the captain turned and walked out of the room.

I could tell Gannon was nervous.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’m sure our bear guide will be armed.”

“Yeah,” Gannon agreed. “I’m sure you’re right.”

I sure hope I’m right.

I was unpacking and trying really hard not to worry myself sick over this upcoming grizzly excursion when we heard the rattling of the anchor chain being hoisted. Wyatt yelled, “We’re casting off ” and darted from the cabin. I wanted to take video of our official cast off, so I grabbed my camera and bolted for the bow, taking the stairs two at a time and running through the dining area like I was being clocked in the 100-yard dash or something. The door to the aft cockpit was open and I jumped right through it without breaking stride and unfortunately ran right into Dr. Brezner. We both almost fell to ground and the papers he was carrying went flying all over the place. It was pretty much a disaster.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “Let me help you pick this up.”

I knelt down and started scooping up some of his papers.

“Please don’t touch my files,” Dr. Brezner snapped.

“Okay,” I replied, kind of startled by his tone of voice. “I was just trying to help.”

The doctor went about collecting his papers like he was in some kind of hurry.

“Are you sure I can’t give you a hand? I feel really bad that I …”

“Please leave me alone,” he said. “I have lots of work to do. Even more now that you’ve made a mess of my files.”

“I’m really sorry.”

The doctor stood up, his papers pressed to his chest in disarray. He took a deep breath. Judging by the troubled look on his face, I thought he was about to tell me that I must be some kind of bonehead for running through the ship like that. Of course, I would have deserved it if he did, but he didn’t.

“Next time please be more careful,” he said, almost calmly. “No running on the ship. Understand?”

“I do,” I said. “No more running. I promise.”

Dr. Brezner turned and walked off.

I kind of lost the desire to video our departure or do anything for that matter, so I came back to our cabin and am watching the water pass just below the porthole window and feeling like a complete moron for what happened and at the same time wondering why Dr. Brezner was so protective of his papers. The way he acted, it was almost like he was hiding something.

5:51 PM
GREAT BEAR RAINFOREST, 52° 37′ N 128° 53′ W
13° CELSIUS, 60° FAHRENHEIT
LIGHT DRIZZLE, WIND 10-15 MPH


Climbing several sets of steps and a couple ladders, I made my way to the top deck. The engines rumbled and came to life and the propeller churned up the water with such force, the boat seemed to lurch forward. A low-lying fog closed in behind us, and just like that, the little town of Bella Bella disappeared.

Taking in the scenery over the ship’s bridge I see only wilderness ahead, vast and untamed. I can only imagine this is how Captain Vancouver must have felt when he first sailed these waters over 200 years ago, full of wonder and excitement. The real adventure has begun, and I can’t wipe the smile off my face.

Our journey begins …

SEPTEMBER 19, 6:53 AM
CARTER BAY, B.C., 52° 50′ N 128° 12′ W
10° CELCIUS, 51° FAHRENHEIT
DARK SKIES


A
fter spending the night anchored in the calm waters of Carter Bay, we boarded a skiff with our bear guide, Alu, waved good-bye to Joe and Liam, and paddled toward the shore. It was just before daybreak. There was a quiet like I’ve never experienced. Our paddles made the loudest sound, a trickle that came with each stroke of the oar.

The early morning light kept the forest shrouded in mystery. Nearing the mouth of a narrow river, I thought I saw something move through the trees just up from the shore. But before I could point it out to my parents, it had vanished.