Another round of the breakfast egg roulette. Mine were not too bad this morning, all of the other people having given up on having fried eggs. We walked on to the first ferry across to the southern island, and there were loaded into two vans for a bumpy, rattling hour-long ride on an unmaintained logging road. At the destination, an old logging camp, we donned every warm wind proof bit of clothing we had, followed by a very heavy floor length raincoat, all covered by a floatation vest. Darth Vader in drag. We were helped into three hard shell Zodiacs, each with a monster outboard motor. And then we were OFF like the wind.
We rafted together every now and then for a lecture and to catch our breath. Crossing the open bit of Hecate Straight was a bit rough and exciting. After an hour or so we arrived at our destination – the abandoned Haida village of Skedans. Or that is the English version of the name: on the map the Haida version is K’UUNA LLNAGAAY (sic). In the early 1800s the village had a population of about 1500, and had 24 large ‘long houses’. By 1876 smallpox had reduced that number to about 30 people. The whole Haida Gwaii population of 15000 became about 700, and the villages were no longer sustainable.
The surviving south island population gathered at Skidagate, and the north islanders at Massett, where they both are today. The villages were left to the elements. Most of the many poles have fallen in the intervening 150 years, but three or four still stand, although almost unrecognizable due to weathering and moss.
The watch keeper couple – a Haida woman and her Dutch husband – gave a cultural lecture tour. Our tour company provided lunch on the beach. Then, back in costume, we continued on the tour around Louise Island. The other boats got close to a whale, but all I saw was a spout and a tail disappearing. Then it was discovered we might be late for the last ferry, and the engines were put on high for a very windy trip back. Back in the vans, the hour long drive took 40 minutes, eating the dust of the other van, but we made the ferry.
In the tiny passenger enclosure on the ferry, the tour director ‘discovered’ a bottle of Irish Cream and bunch of plastic shot glasses in her purse, so we (the whole group) killed that, right under the signs that said No Alcohol and This Area Under Video Surveillance.
The tour provided dinner tonight at a converted pub – salmon of course. It has been a tiring day, being force fed fresh air for a good part of it.
And the weather was lovely – clear and sunny. It would have been hell in the rain that we had expected.
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