MY "PERFECT STORM" - January 8, 2008.
January on the West Coast can be challenging weather wise at the best of time. While weather forecasting today is so much more accurate than in the past the unexpected can and will happen if you spend enough time out here. Sometimes it is Russian Roulette at it's finest. This story reflects just that.
All of us who spend much of our daily lives on the water have learned to respect natures unpredictable ways and we find ourselves constantly watching sky patterns with one ear to the weather channel on our VHF. The winters are a time when it is just one continuing flow of low pressure systems after another. We find ourselves constantly surrounded by the eeriness of the combination of steel grey howling winds and driving rains.
Over the years, my winter livelihood has been operating a water taxi business primarily contracted by the logging companies who are scattered through the many coves and inlets of our area. Often we have housed crews at the lodge and we run them to and from their job sites morning and night. Such was the case this fateful day in January of 2008.
Nothing appeared particularly threatening or out of sorts in the sky as we set out at first light and the forecast wasn't too concerning. As the day progressed though a wind started up and about one o'clock in the afternoon I received a VHF call from the hill that the loggers needed an early pick up as the winds were making it too dangerous too work. In the middle of an generator oil change I told them I could be there in about an hour. I departed the lodge in moderate winds and light rain expecting a routine pick up. I picked up the four man crew, decided a fuel run was in order and headed to Esperanza a normally easy short run away.
The logging site was six miles along Esperanza Inlet making my journey a northerly route for that distance. I looked ahead by about two miles to see a tell tale white line of sea with a very unusual white mist above. Also looming up were towers of water that resembled tall bent trees forming on both sides of the inlet. The wind suddenly has now become strong and very gusty. Turning back was not an option - the moorage was weak and exposed and my only thought was that I must get to the fuel dock.
I radioed my situation to the lodge who stood on standby. The chop had now become a very close 1 to 2 meter see and building. The boat was beginning to get tossed around by the wind gusts and waves are lapping over the bow and the roof into the stern. Reducing my speed to 1 to 2 knots, ensuring the crew as all secure in floatation devised I am now running all the boat course tips that I have ever taken over in my head. I know that the the two main killers on the water is panic and hyperphobia.
My crew is starting to panic and are directing me to pull to shore. Going to shore in a storm like this is certain to be a fatal mistake. You are much safer to keep your bow straight into the oncoming sea and to stay away from land.
The fuel situation is very much on my mind as I calculated four to six hours of running time at our current speed to reach our destination - a regular easy thirty minute trip. I know that this is also all the fuel time I have.
During all the pitching, drenching and fighting to stay on course, the crew is protesting every wave as one person yells "There, land there" pointing to one of the fish farms. I reminded him once again of the dangers of trying to dock a boat in a storm such as this on moorage I am totally unfamiliar with. Disgruntled, he turned and was propelled into sitting by another wave.
Finally, I reached the Steamer Point marker and can make a right turn to go the final couple of miles to the Esperanza fuel dock only to be met with an even stronger wind funneling its way down the narrower inlet.
As we finally reached the dock at Esperanza I realized they too were pitching by 3 to 4 feet. My relief was huge as at long last I managed to get the boat to dock thinking it was going to end up on top of the dock with all the heaving.
All five of us crawled on all fours to get up the ramp and as we did we heard a tremendous crash and bang. The noise was coming from a pile driver tied to the dock. As we turned on our knees, in our horror, we saw the driver list and flip over, sinking quickly. All that remained of this once huge piece of equipment were small floating pieces. A real testament to the incredible force of the storm.
We all worked our way to the main building on land. We were so happy and relieved to be greeted with warmth, kindness, dry clothes and blankets along with the hot coffee and soup which at that moment in time was like landing at the Ritz.
The next day about 8 am as we departed for the lodge the water was so calm and the silence so peaceful you would be hard pressed to believe it was the same location. Only the debris all the through the water betrayed the incredible chaos of a day ago.
I will never forget that trip and I am certain my passengers haven't either. I will also always be grateful for the outcome and for the folks of Esperanza who were so kind in offering comfort to a very concerned crew.
FAMILY FISHING
Over my many years of fishing/guiding and operating a lodge I have collected many stories which are requested year after year and which I am happy to share with you as a new feature on the site.
Every once in a while, no matter what undertaking we take in life we say what am I doing this for? I have asked myself that from time to time as well and always some event will happen that brings it all to the forefront.
One of those times happened early in my venture in Esperanza Inlet and began with an inquiry from Bellingham,WA. A grandfather wanted to bring his son and grandson on what might possibly be a final special fishing trip together.
He wanted to fish all three in a 15ft Whaler and insisted that they all fish alone with their own boat. I reluctantly agreed after explaining they would be very limited in the waters they would be able to fish, due to the size of their craft. All he wanted from me was to head them to an area, with the ideal condition that would provide the opportunity of catching a Chinook salmon.
Well the fateful day arrived in late July, with all three excited about the possibilities and armed with every conceivable device ever made which "has caught" or "is supposed to" catch the elusive Chinook!! The weather was ideal and the forecast to remain the same. I showed them on a chart where I thought there was a strong possibility of catching their quarry. It was an extremely protected little hole surrounded with lots of kelp beds. Off they went at first light the following morning. A little anxious for them, in their little boat, I contacted other boats to be certain they were safe and had found the spot. All was good and I recall thinking to myself they would probably return back late afternoon.
Was I wrong!! About noon that day they arrived back at the lodge with such expressions, one could only assume something had gone horribly wrong or incredibly right!! All three of them launched into me with thanks for putting them onto a very good good fishing spot. How good fishing I had no idea!!
The story goes like this....they arrived at the designated area only to discover they had forgotten a fishing rod and some gear but made do with another pole and cut-plugged herring. They set out the bait and almost immediately hooked into an enormous chinook.."the biggest salmon I've ever laid my eyes upon", exclaimed Grandpa. They apparently fought the beast for well over an hour, had it several times to the boat, but it would not fit into their net and after many attempts to land this great fish, it eventually succeeded one last lunge to freedom.
Broken-hearted they decided to put down another herring on that one chance there may be another waiting to take their bait. Sure enough, they hook another but this time are better prepared and more experienced at the net.
The description went like this;"After getting a good look at the monster, we saw it to be as big as the one that got away and HERE IT IS!!" It took all three to hoist the 52lb beauty from under the burlap sack they had it encased in
Grandpa's face was lit up and he was grinning from ear to ear as he said "If we don't catch another fish this trip or indeed, ever again, this is something none of us will ever forget."
Over time, I have lost contact with the trio but wherever they are, I am certain the memory of this day has stuck with them as it has done with me.
