A Black Bear in Turnbull Cove

By Nicole

Well, it happened.  We’d convinced ourselves that it just wasn’t in the cards for us, though apparently it’s commonplace up here.  Day after day went by, and we waited and looked and waited some more.  But today was the day!  Today we saw our first black bear.  I named him Franklin.

I was in the cockpit when I heard the sound of rocks clunking on shore.  We were alone in the anchorage, and I couldn’t figure out what was making all the racket.  I grabbed the binoculars and there it was!  A furry black rump pointed in my direction.  I watched as he turned over rocks looking for a low-tide snack of crabs or other such delicacies.  Aaron was reading or napping  (he goes back and forth between the two quite easily), but he popped up the steps to check out our new friend.  The picture isn’t great (it reminds me of one of those super-zoomed-in Sasquatch shots), but you get the gist.

Turnbull Cove is surrounded by steep hillsides where two major landslides have occurred in the last few years.  It would’ve probably been fine to anchor near the shore (where we could get close-up pictures of bears), but we read a dramatic account of a boat who witnessed one of the landslides first hand and thought better of it.

One of two major landslides in Turnbull Cove.

After Franklin had his fill of whatever he was searching for under the rocks, he ambled off into the woods, most likely for a snooze.  It was at about that time when we laced up our hiking boots and set off to find the trail to Lake Huaskin.

 
Handy trail marker, with a lone boot on top.  Hmm.

Along the trail, we came across bear prints in the soft mud and saw bits of black fur on a tree and a pile of bear poo.  Always thinking “safety first,” I made sure to wear my bear bell.  We sounded like a Christmas parade stomping up the trail, but at least we wouldn’t be sneaking up on Franklin or his kin.

 
The back side of the hill had a steep staircase with tiny little steps leading down to the lake.

Before we left Kwatsi Bay Marina, the owner asked us if we knew how to tell grizzly bear scat from that of a black bear. “Grizzly bear scat,” he said, “has bear bells in it.”  Funny guy.

Of course no anchorage would be complete without a spin in the dinghy to add a few more islands to Aaron’s list (he told you he’s trying to hit 100, right?).

 We sat in this spot for a long time, just soaking in the sunshine and the incredible view.

Although the view wasn’t too shabby from this side of the island either.

Or from this side. :)

We’ve spent a few lovely days here in Turnbull Cove, waiting out the gale-force winds blowing on Queen Charlotte Strait.  But with the winds predicted to ease tomorrow, we’ll be moving on.

 Sometimes I feel like we’re in a Bob Ross painting.