With favorable NW winds in the forecast, we headed south again after relaxing for two days in North Harbour, Quatsino Sound. We had an uneventful rounding of the Brooks Peninsula, which can be a treacherous passage we’ve heard. For us, it was a motorboat ride which sure beat the alternative. The sky cleared as we rounded the cape and we marveled at the untouched miles and miles of green mountains making up the peninsula park.
Our guidebooks all agreed that the little island group, the Bunsbys, tucked underneath the Brooks Peninsula and snuggled up next to the mainland were not to be missed. After weaving in through the many rocks and reefs guarding these forested little jewels we made our way to the fully protected main anchorage, Scow Bay on Big Bunsby.
After setting our anchor in the 60′ deep anchorage, we turned off the motor and listened to: absolutely nothing. Tucked away between the Pacific Ocean and miles and miles of protected forests it was absolutely still. After listening for a while, we could make out the sound of a bald eagle calling out in the distance.
Once the girls were tucked in bed, Michael and I sat out in the cockpit enjoying the last of our Trader Joe’s wine. We watched the sun set over the Brooks mountains. It was a stunning show with the day’s last beams spilling down from low clouds that had settled between the peaks. Orange and yellow and pink and finally blue.
The light was dim and Michael heard a rustling sound on the shoreline just in front of our bow. We both strained our eyes to see what was making the noise and gaped in awe as a huge black shape emerged from the bushes. For the next 15 minutes we watched the enormous black bear stroll along the shore, reaching on his or her hind legs to grab juicy thimbleberries off the highest branches and sniffing amongst the rocks for other morsels.
There are no trails on the Bunsbys, which was just fine by me. We spent hours trolling slowly along in our dinghy exploring hidden lagoons and nooks, marveling at some of the most amazing rock sculptures we’d ever seen. We gazed into crystal clear tide pools teaming with life: hermit crabs, seastars, fluorescent green anemones, small fish, crabs fighting for space in the smallest pools. We explored little pocket beaches, the girls finding favorite seashells and bits of glowing seaglass in the sand. Every now and then we’d spot a sea otter popping their head up out of the water to peek at us, guests in their wilderness.