2015

 

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.