Friday, August 5, 2016

Shoal Harbour

The entrance to Shoal Harbor is just around the corner from Billy Proctor's place. It is a nice secure anchorage to hold up for a few days, during which some higher winds are predicted. That's alright. We don't mind relaxing for several days.


A couple families of mergansers


There are basically two arms to Shoal Harbor. If you go in, turn right, and anchor near the islet, that's where we were!

At the end of this right-hand arm, there is a a house in ruins.


The second is behind our islet. There is a third building at the end of the left-hand arm, beyond the log dump.
There IS a nicely kept float house near our anchorage, the only resident evident while we were there.

We saw bear on shore of OUR arm, but on our dinghy tour, this beach was around a corner.
He looked up at a big dinghy that got there before us.

He goes back to scrounging.

But, the added traffic, and the other couple's excitement and then voices apologizing to us for cutting in front of us
 obviously make the guy nervous. 

Though nearly every boat in every anchorage seems to put out a crab trap, many places are 'fished out'. Al got one keeper from our two pots. He calls that a snack.

If you've been following our blog through previous years, you know that we love the swallows and the swallows love us! After a big flock swooped and chattered around us for quite a time, this one got left behind. He was there, all alone, a good 15 minutes before he flew away. We figure he was a youngster that was tired by the pace of the flock. Hope he found the way home!

We noticed this shipwreck when we came in at low tide, but the day we left the tide was even lower.
Al says it looks like it has perhaps been 'run over'.

We enjoyed our time of rest and rejuvenation in Shoal Harbour. Except that the vacation from the internet caused us to miss friends heading south from Alaska. We learned later that they had gone right past the harbor while we were there. Darn! We even had the radio on a few days, which we don't usually.

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