Excursion – the rugged West Coast Part Two

With great relief we pulled into Cougar Creek campground.  Located in the midst of the breathtakingly beautiful Nootka Sound, one never tires of the view and in an instant the memories of the arduous journey seem to disappear.  Two hours on a ferry and five hours on roads of every shape and size from multi-lane highways, to windy country roads and lastly gravelly, dusty hole-filled logging routes cannot deter us from this other-worldy escape.

 

 

Making our way to our campsite, we get busy unpacking the truck.  Holly is free to roam off-leash and Tigger eagerly takes in the new yet-familiar scents.  It’s been a few weeks since we’ve been here, but because we were able to leave our camper here and our tarp set up, there isn’t a lot of actual work to be done.

After we get settled, we head down to the water’s edge where the heart of the campground is.  This is the spot, two innocuous brown wooden benches, where the greatest of fish stories originate.  Settling in on the benches you are transported into another world, only found in such fish-rich environments.  I suspect the conversations that take place here haven’t changed much in decades.

 

 

The fishermen heading up the ramp are bombarded with the usual expected questions.  “How’d ya do?”, and depending upon the response, it’s followed up with “Where were ya?” and then, “What’d ya use?”  “How deep?”, “Did ya go outside?”  And typically the responses follow in a similar vein, “Got two lost three”, or “had lots of hits but nuthin’ in the boat”, or the most prideful of responses usually said with a casual shrug, “ya, got my limit”.  This is the term used to describe when a fisherman has successfully caught the specific number of fish, by breed, that by Canadian Federal law they are entitled to hold in their possession for that particular day.

Location is described as, “over at Campbell Rock”, or “we were fishin’ the slide and then we moved over to Beer Can Bay”.  Venturing “outside” is making reference to those who choose to motor out about 30 or 40 minutes leaving the actual ‘Sound’ and fish in the often turbulent open waters of the Pacific Ocean.  A favourite spot for halibut jigging. 

 

 

When it comes to answering the “What’d ya use?” question, responses vary depending upon whether or not fishing is ‘good’ (when people are easily catching their limits each day).  If fishing is tough and not much is being caught then those who are catching can be secretive as to what they are using to attract the fish. Conversely, when fishing really is good everyone is jubilant and eager to share their techniques.  Typically responses are such, “we were on white hoochies on two rods, then anchovy on the third”, or “using plugs this time” or “we’re on spoons”.  And sometimes more details are sought, “what about flashers?”, and the response can be, “still using purple haze” or “you know me, I only use Betsys”.

After the initial conversation, the successful anglers retrieve a wheelbarrow from behind the benches and head back down to gather up their catch, cleaned in troughs on the docks beside the boats.  As is the usual routine we watch as kids of varying ages ask the fishermen to see the ‘insides’ of the fish and happily hold out their hands or buckets to take the internal organs.  These are promptly tossed into the ocean and the kids watch in wonder as hundreds of little fish rush to the surface to feed.  Seagulls and eagles can be seen battling it out to retrieve a fish head.  This same scene is repeated day in and day out at Cougar Creek and likely at many other similar locations.

As we partake in this ritual, Holly and Tigger are ‘visiting’ with their friends and Holly barks a hearty greeting to everyone who crosses her path.  Because we’ve had an unusually damp summer we happily head back to our site to light a campfire.  Previous years have been more typical weather-wise which usually means an all out campfire ban province-wide and news of devastating forest fires.  Camping just isn’t the same without an evening around the fire and because of this we try very hard not to complain or lament about the chilly summer we are experiencing this year.

 

Holly isn’t a fan of the fire, so she takes this opportunity to scramble into the camper and settle in for a late afternoon nap.  Tiggy and I have another walk around the campsite loop, encountering many dogs, including our friends Gus and Zoey, sibling yorkies who are genuine fishing dogs and regular visitors to Nootka Sound.

Saturday morning we awake to an overcast day, and spend the early hours in our usual routine for a non-fishing day.  Ordinarily we have our boat with us and the day would begin before dawn when we’d head out on the water.

The morning hours disappear as we meander around the campsite and bravely venture out on a walk up the back roads.  Bear and cougar sightings are a common occurrence in this area which, for me at least, makes for an unsettling walk.  Knowing that bears feed on berries, I’m particularly uncomfortable as we walk by bush after bush bursting with plump red fruit.

Returning to the campsite, we spend time reading and visiting.  We pack up the site, and load the camper back on the truck ready for our early Sunday morning departure all the while musing about the end of another season.

 

Later in the morning an excursion is planned on a friend’s boat.  Our destination is Moutcha Bay Resort; a new development located a short boat ride further into the Sound.  We’ve been here once before and because of the warm welcome we received that time, we were eager to return.  We set out on the boat, five adults and four dogs and within ten minutes we’d arrived at the resort.  Similar to our last visit, we were greeted with a smile at the fuel dock where we parked the boat.

 

The resort covers a fairly large area, and offers a variety of accommodation options, from luxury rooms, to yurts, to rental of a seaside camper if so desired.  Despite the grandeur of the resort, it has a very relaxed comfortable feel to it.  There is an ‘everyone welcome’ energy that you feel as soon as you arrive, and this congeniality extends to dogs as well.  We availed ourselves of the showers (I forgot to mention that our campground at Cougar Creek has no running water, no showers, and no electricity).  Tigger, never one to be left out, joined me in the shower to make sure I cleaned up to his standards.

Presentable once again, we gathered on the deck and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast.  My Mexican omelette was delicious, with fresh cilantro and just the right amount of spice.  Besides the great food, this was easily one of the most relaxing and enjoyable meals I’ve ever had.  Most places we go are not dog-friendly and if dogs are allowed they are mostly just barely tolerated which makes for a feeling of unease, and it really doesn’t even matter how good the food is.  Here at Moutcha Bay they really seemed to care about their customers and despite Holly’s barking and scrambling up the rock face and speeding down the stairs I didn’t get one ‘look’.  Not a look, not a glance, not even a feeling that I needed to apologize and explain that she was rescue dog who had challenges and yes we were working on them and sorry again about that barking.

After basking in the not so terrible weather, we headed back on the boat and powered back to Cougar Creek.  As the day wore on the clouds settled in and the drizzle began.  We managed to get our fire going and despite the rain had a nice evening.  Somewhere in the wee morning hours, the skies opened and the rain pelted down, drumming noisily on the roof of the camper.  Happy to be dry inside I couldn’t help but sympathize with the campers one site over, who had earlier set up their tents.  I suspect they awoke to indoor water features that weren’t a welcome sight.

Rising early, we took down the tarp, in the pouring rain and began our journey homeward.