Although bald eagles are among the largest birds we see on the coast, often we see gulls and other much smaller birds chasing eagles through the sky or tormenting them on a tree branch. This seems curious, given the difference in size. While eagles are excellent hunters, according to Bald Eagles: Their Life and Behavior in North America they are not above scavenging for their meals, or stealing food from other birds or preying on them. So to ward of threats to themselves and their young, smaller birds often harass eagles and other birds of prey. The larger birds mostly ignore these attacks, rarely fighting back. The eagle’s behaviour, from scavenging, to stealing food, to ignoring attacks, led Benjamin Franklin to oppose their choice for America’s seal:

I wish that the bald eagle had not been chosen as the representative of our country; he is a bird of bad moral character; he does not get his living honestly; you may have seen him perched on some dead tree; where, too lazy to fish for himself, he watches the labor of the fishing-hawk; and when that diligent bird has at length taken a fish, and is bearing it to its nest for the support of his mate and young ones, the bald eagle pursues him and takes it from him. . . .  Besides he is a rank coward; the little kingbird, not bigger than a sparrow, attacks him boldly and drives him out of the district. He is therefore by no means a proper emblem for the brave and honest.  

-- Benjamin Franklin in a letter to his daughter Sarah Bache

Occasionally, it would seem, the eagle doesn’t always ignore the attacks. One time while out in the dinghy, we started seeing white feathers massed on the water surface. A short distance away, we came across an eagle, tearing into what was left of a seagull clutched in its talons. That probably was just one taunt too many.

The Seattle Boat Show seminar schedule is now posted. We’ll be presenting some of our favorite destinations between Victoria and Bella Bella, along with and tips and techniques for improved boating safety and comfort, at 1pm on Saturday January 24^th. And we’ll be signing copies of Cruising the Secret Coast, our Waggoner sister publication, at the Armchair Sailor booth from 3-5pm on Saturday the 24^th and Saturday the 31^st.

One area we’ll highlight is Drury Inlet, our favorite destination in the Broughtons. Part of Drury Inlet’s attraction is ruins from an entire era of coastal logging, including springboard- scarred stumps, a large, well-preserved steam donkey, 1920s logging trucks, and a logging railway. Logging roads—both old and new—extend inland to tranquil lakes and to mountain ridges with wonderful saltwater views. Throughout these woods, contemporary independent loggers meld the past with the present as they salvage cedar from century-old stumps.

On Monday we passed Anacortes and went through Swinomish Channel (area map) during a significant, and poorly forecast, wind event, with an amazing variety of weather. The barometer gained 10 mb in 4 hours and peak winds approached 60 knots.

We didn’t think we’d ever stop at Pirates Cove Marine Park, at the north end of British Columbia’s Gulf Islands. The BC Marine Parks Guide bills it as one of the more popular parks in the Gulf Islands, with room for 75 boats. This is remarkable, given that the cove from shore to shore is about 730 by 1275 feet, and only 485 by 910 feet outside the 2-meter contour line where we safely could swing. Stern-tie rings line the shore, allowing many more boats to anchor than if they all swung free.

Normally we save the busy summer anchorages such as this one for the winter, when fewer boats are about. We hadn’t yet visited Pirates Cove though, even in the winter, because of the holding. Most cruising guides describe the holding at Pirates Cove as poor, mentioning fire drills of boats dragging anchor whenever the wind came up. In the winter, when gale-force winds are common, good holding with room for plenty of scope is especially important. We always felt we should try Pirates Cove anyway, and this year we noticed that the guides also mentioned a gooey and sticky mud bottom. We were skeptical that the holding would be poor in that kind of bottom, so we finally gave it a try.

After all those years of avoiding it, Pirates Cove turned out to be an ideal winter anchorage. The holding really isn’t poor, it’s just poor on short scope. On a 5:1 scope, the holding was good. We didn’t budge, even with gale-force southeasterly winds blowing. That scope, however, reduces Pirates Cove from a 75-boat anchorage to about 3-boat one.

We’d arrived during a period of unseasonably cold below-freezing temperatures and lots of snow. We had to dig out a spot to tie off the dinghy, and the ramp was about a foot deep in snow.

Not far down the trail, we noticed a narrow channel had been cut down the hillside along the surface of the snow.  From way up high above the trail, the channel swooped through the trees, crossed the trail, and went right down to the water. It was about 8-10” wide, too narrow for a snowboard, and the path through the trees and branches wouldn’t allow anything larger than about 6” high to pass anyway. Pacific Coast Mammals supported our theory that playful river otters made them: “Makes river bank slides 30 cm wide. Snow slides show track marks. When on land, spends most of its time frolicking, chasing tail, or playing tag.”

We found snow slides all over the island. The most impressive slide started at the top of a very steep flight of stairs and went all the way to the bottom. That must have been some ride. Cowabunga!

Animal tracks were everywhere, but ours were the only human footprints ashore. Besides its beauty, the snow gave us a glimpse into the area’s extensive and varied animal life. In some cases, it appeared that the otter Super Bowl had taken place—a veritable highway of tracks led to and from a certain point. We realized it must be one of their dens. We’d never have noticed it without the snow.