Voyage to the Cape

This is the Carl's first chapter of his 'Memoirs of the Cape'

On Monday morning, May 27th I checked out of the Crest Hotel and took a taxi to Seal Cove where the District Marine Agency was located. I was in for another shock! The “ship” that was about to transport me was the CCGS Skidegate, a very small lighthouse tender. I boarded with my guitar and luggage then a member of the crew showed me to my cabin. With my distorted awareness of distances involved, I had thought the trip would be done the same day and I’d arrive at my destination that evening. I was told that the trip would take at least a couple of days if I was lucky!

It turned out to be a rather enjoyable cruise for me. I had no work to do and the food was good. The captain seemed quite young for his rank – no older than his 30s – quite a nice fellow. I got along quite well with the crew. The boson kept kidding me about how bad it was at the Cape and I’d be begging them to let me leave on the next tender.

I passed time by tuning in and listening to my portable short-wave radio. Reception at sea was great.

On the first day out the Skidegate stopped to service a number of navigational aids, which took all day. That evening we anchored in Refuge Bay on the north shore of Porcher Island. We couldn’t be any more than about 25 miles out of Rupert – it will take all week to reach the Cape at this rate, I thought.

When I woke up the next morning, the Skidegate was already on its way. I think a couple of beacons were serviced before we started to cross Hecate Strait. My cabin was in the lower deck so I could look out the porthole to see below the surface whenever we went through a wave. It must have taken most of the day for that small ship to make the crossing. I didn’t get seasick but I did find it more comfortable to lie on my bunk and read rather than go up on deck while the boat was pitching and rolling in the waves.

As we approached the Charlottes I could see Lawn Point directly ahead of us. It was early evening when we arrived at Queen Charlotte City. We did not pull into the Government wharf. Instead we moored along a rickety old float – it had to be condemned because no other boats were moored there. By the time my brother moved to Queen Charlotte City four years later these floats and wharf had been removed. They were located between the Government wharf and the fishermen’s wharf. A couple of RCMP officers were there awaiting the delivery of a small boat trailer on board the Skidegate.

After we tied up I went ashore with some of the crew and we walked up to the beer parlour at the Queen Charlotte Hotel. If my memory serves me right, the streets of Queen Charlotte City were not yet paved and there was no traffic to speak of. I do recall crossing the street after we left the beer parlour without any regard for an oncoming vehicle. One of the crew members warned me to get out of the way and suggested that I almost became the first pedestrian struck by a motor vehicle in Queen Charlotte City. I must have had quite a few beers! It scares me to think that I had to stagger back along that condemned wharf to get back on board the ship. How I managed to avoid falling into the salt chuck I’ll never know.

We had the last leg of the journey ahead of us the following day.