We were on the phone to Janie, good friend and lead researcher at the North Coast Cetacean Society. She was confirming what we had feared, The Barge Didn’t Come. Me and Steve were meant to be building a deck for the new research outpost on Fin Island. We had driven rather than flown so we could carry all our tools. There had been a storm and so the materials had not arrived. They were being barged in you see, it is very remote little island we were going to. The only way to get enough materials to build an 800 square foot deck is to barge them in. But the storm had meant it wouldn’t be safe and so they didn’t come. There was a chance they could deliver them the next week, when we would be leaving. It was a disaster. We had come all this way, driven all those miles, to do a job we could no longer do. We debated whether we should turn around and go back home. After all, Steve was needed at the restaurant and at the very least we had had a good road trip and I had seen parts of BC I’d never seen before.
But we decided to stay. We were here after all. This is one of those places that there will always be things to do, things to build or fix or simply improve. Why not.
On the ferry ride down (4 hours to a first nations community called Hartley Bay and then a further 45 minute boat ride to get to Fin Island), we discussed what other projects we could do with no materials and limited days. We came up with an outhouse and potentially a tent platform. We would figure something out.
Just to give you an idea, this is the Fin Island research cabin:
It is 16 foot squared perched on the rock with a 270 degree view of the ocean. Not the easiest place to work but certainly one of the most beautiful.
We arrived and met another couple from Australia who were volunteering there for a couple of months, they were a blast and we instantly hit it off, reassuring ourselves that we had made the right decision to stay.
We went scouting for the perfect outhouse spot and found one relatively clear area just behind the current long drop toilet. It would do perfectly.
So we started clearing and we started digging. Several hours later we had our work space cleared and a hole that Steve could comfortably stand up in. It was good progress for our first afternoon but we knew we had to take advantage of the weather as the rain was coming.
The next day, the rain had most definitely arrived.
Janie had to go to town for some emails and errands for a couple of days so it was just the four of us. Myself and Steve went on driftwood hunts, chopped and screwed and sawed whilst Rob and Rosie scanned for whales, made us cups of tea/coffee and cooked us hearty meals to warm us up.
The days went by and slowly the structure started to make itself known.
We had no materials remember? Just tools (including screws luckily) and one piece of plywood from around the camp. We had decided that this project was going to be unique. And unique it certainly was, being 95% made out of driftwood and constructed during what seemed to be a constant torrential downpour. The days started to tick by faster and soon we were almost done. Constantly adding some weaving here, a decorative piece of driftwood there, steps, a rail, aiming to make it pretty and functional. Janie was to be back soon and we wanted to surprise her with it. Luckily our hard work had paid off, she was rendered speechless and there was now a rain covered structure to do your daily business, and even with a view! Success!
But we had one more day and knew that there was no point just sitting around, so off we went in search of a fallen tree and Steve started on it with the chainsaw and soon we had the makings of a tent platform. Rosie and Rob had constructed a simple plywood structure but the problem was that it was sitting right on the ground and the spot they’d chosen (it’s really difficult to get a clear spot amongst all the forest) just happened to become a little creek in heavy rains and their campsite was quickly turning to bog. We managed to use pre existing tree stumps for the base and then cut out little saddles to sit our strips of wood that we had cut from the fallen cedar tree. It was pretty basic and could be easily dismantled if need be but there we had a tent platform, reattaching the plywood on top of the wood to give some sort of flat surface to pitch a tent.
Rob and Rosie were happy, Janie was happy and we were certainly happy. We had contributed and left our mark on a place that we knew we’d be back to and had a special place in our heart.
Soon it was time to haul the heavy tool bins to the edge of the water, load up Elemiah (Janie’s alumnium whale surveying boat), say our goodbyes and begin our journey back down south. We waved to Rob and Rosie and Cohen (Janie’s gorgeous ‘spirit bear’ of a dog) on shore as we headed back towards Hartley Bay. It was always a bitter sweet moment; sad to be leaving but happy to know we would certainly be back. The Great Bear Rainforest had a very special place in both of our hearts. It was where we had met, where Steve had proposed and now where we had left a little part of ourselves behind on Fin Island.
See you soon Great Bear.
