Fury Cove North.
From the bridge of “Ocean Aire I”.
Fury Cove is located in the northern waters
of the inside passage. It cannot be argued away that this is one of the most spectacular
coves on our coast. It is a destination
jump off for those that cruise north of Cape Caution. The community of yachties
will not pass up the opportunity to, on at least once a season, visit here.
This is the gateway to viewing hump back whales breaching, sea otters
frolicking and eagles swooping from on high to snag a salmon. The mounding seas
break in the passes that lead to the inner sanctum of this cove. They can
thunder on to the shore line breaking sparkling white then speed away leaving
clusters of giant red sea urchin, sea stars, wrinkled Amphissa and blue mussels
all shinny in multitudes of colour exposed by retreat of the cascading water
dancing away again. The kelp undulates
in rhyme with the next surge, like an exotic dancer teased to euphoria by the
beat of the drumming surf.
Fury is secluded with a narrow portal to
enter on Penrose Island. Yachts will drift inside safe on slack rode even as
the roar of surf and mounding seas dances at its gate. This could be a South Seas
postcard perfect but for the palms are replaced with old man growth cedar with
dwarfed and twisted limbs and broken tops. The crescent shaped midden beach
foretells this as an ancient camp site and perhaps for millenniums a haven for
those trading with their north and south brethren. This was probably a cove
that the Haida Indians staged raiding parties looking for slaves and booty from
the great tribes of the north and south coastal Indians.
There is an old cabin beyond view of the
drifting yachts anchored nearby. Perhaps an old hermit lived here or one
finding refuge from the war in Vietnam or North Korea conflict. Thousands of yachters
have visited and stirred the latch on the silver gray cedar planked door, the
hinges protesting only lightly just enough to greet you and let the portal to
the past awaken to your presence. It’s neat and tidy in side and an old corn
broom leans again the threshold entrance as a reminder to all that enter this
secret place ,come visit, I welcome your presence but respect me for I am the
past and the future.
This will be for the three of us Penny,
Chevy (dog) and I, just the beginning of the adventure north beyond Cape
Caution. This is not to say that the south coast is not spectacular or a
challenge to our boating skills, quite contraire. It is the in-between coast that is more open
and craggy , unprotected from
rolling swells that’s birth was spawned
in the Sea of Japan a thousand miles
away . Here, just south of the CAPE we
feel vulnerable, naked in our little cockleshell. There are trail markers that we listen on VHF
radio for on the weather channels. These are observations at Pine Island, Egg
Island, and West Sea Otter buoy. We listen a number of times trying to read between
the lines of the weather forecaster at Coast Guard. Perhaps they are right but
they can be wrong and the message misjudged.
We are puny in are little craft and can
face towering waves or dense fog and perhaps both at the same time. It also can
be so still that you feel levitated, floating, ghosting along, your wash the
only telltale of your presence, almost stuck in time like a fly on sticky paper
buzzing on but not going anywhere in a hurry. West Sea Otter buoy is the most
Important marker on the passage north around Cape Caution. We listen and when the
seas are but a half meter or less you can almost be assured a comfortable ride
to the sanctuary of Fury Cove.
