Kynock Inlet, British Columbia
We were not the first to explore the secretive and shrouded fjords of the mid-coast of Canada’s western-most province. The aboriginal peoples – the First Nations as they are called – paddled and gathered food throughout the bays, inlets, passages, coves and channels of this contorted coast. Although the province is only 780 miles from north to south, its islands and inlets twist to form over 20,300 miles of shoreline.
In 1793 Captain George Vancouver of the British Admiralty guided his sailing vessel Discovery through these uncharted waters, sending out rowing crews to map the tortured coastline. They explored from what would eventually be named Washington State north to Alaska.
Tragically, one of his mapping crews met a dreadful fate very close to where we are today. While camped for the night in a protected cove, a breakfast of roasted beach mussels tasted very good...initially. Lips and tongues soon became numb, however, breathing more laboured and balance irregular. A toxin known as paralytic shellfish poisoning (PSP), caused by a microscopic dinoflagellate living in the ocean water, had concentrated in the tissues of the mussels. Bivalves suffer no symptoms from this concentration, but to those who eat them, the saxitoxin can be deadly. Some dinoflagellates have red pigmentation and bloom into enormous red tides, a warning to consumers. However, one of the most toxic of these organisms is Alexandrium catenella, which does not possess red pigments. This crew, which included Abel Seaman John Carter, 24 years of age and far from his home in Surrey, England, had no warning. They all fell ill. Carter was dead within a few hours. Captain Vancouver, as was his duty, registered many geographical names on this coast. Commemorating this tragedy, our charts now show Poison Cove in Mussel Inlet where the men had camped, and Carter Bay where John Carter was laid to rest.
We passed these historic places as we entered Kynock Inlet early this morning. A low fog enveloped Sea Bird, adding to the mystery of what lay ahead. As the sun evapourated the low fog, spectacular vistas appeared. High, polished mountains, ground smooth by the glaciations of 13,000 and again 1200 years ago towered over us. Evergreen forests, patchy in places as the trees await the build-up of organic soils, clung to steep slopes. Gulls and eagles fed at the intertidal zone and in a clear river, now welcoming the return of hulking Chum Salmon. Kayakers paddled, Zodiac riders searched and hikers crept along the river. Black Bears patrolled the beach.
The sun continued as we wound our way south through the Inside Passage. A Southern Elephant Seal surfaced nearby, but slipped under water again for a long, deep dive. It was another day full of experiences and smiles.
We were not the first to explore the secretive and shrouded fjords of the mid-coast of Canada’s western-most province. The aboriginal peoples – the First Nations as they are called – paddled and gathered food throughout the bays, inlets, passages, coves and channels of this contorted coast. Although the province is only 780 miles from north to south, its islands and inlets twist to form over 20,300 miles of shoreline.
In 1793 Captain George Vancouver of the British Admiralty guided his sailing vessel Discovery through these uncharted waters, sending out rowing crews to map the tortured coastline. They explored from what would eventually be named Washington State north to Alaska.
Tragically, one of his mapping crews met a dreadful fate very close to where we are today. While camped for the night in a protected cove, a breakfast of roasted beach mussels tasted very good...initially. Lips and tongues soon became numb, however, breathing more laboured and balance irregular. A toxin known as paralytic shellfish poisoning (PSP), caused by a microscopic dinoflagellate living in the ocean water, had concentrated in the tissues of the mussels. Bivalves suffer no symptoms from this concentration, but to those who eat them, the saxitoxin can be deadly. Some dinoflagellates have red pigmentation and bloom into enormous red tides, a warning to consumers. However, one of the most toxic of these organisms is Alexandrium catenella, which does not possess red pigments. This crew, which included Abel Seaman John Carter, 24 years of age and far from his home in Surrey, England, had no warning. They all fell ill. Carter was dead within a few hours. Captain Vancouver, as was his duty, registered many geographical names on this coast. Commemorating this tragedy, our charts now show Poison Cove in Mussel Inlet where the men had camped, and Carter Bay where John Carter was laid to rest.
We passed these historic places as we entered Kynock Inlet early this morning. A low fog enveloped Sea Bird, adding to the mystery of what lay ahead. As the sun evapourated the low fog, spectacular vistas appeared. High, polished mountains, ground smooth by the glaciations of 13,000 and again 1200 years ago towered over us. Evergreen forests, patchy in places as the trees await the build-up of organic soils, clung to steep slopes. Gulls and eagles fed at the intertidal zone and in a clear river, now welcoming the return of hulking Chum Salmon. Kayakers paddled, Zodiac riders searched and hikers crept along the river. Black Bears patrolled the beach.
The sun continued as we wound our way south through the Inside Passage. A Southern Elephant Seal surfaced nearby, but slipped under water again for a long, deep dive. It was another day full of experiences and smiles.
