Th e Otter Limits
Kyuquot Sound is ground zero for the re-introduction of these ?whiskered wascals?
SPRING ISLAND
As a soft swell rises and falls beneath our kayaks, I ponder how a furry animal topping out at 35 kilograms can carry the weight of an ecosystem on its back. Yet so it is for one of the world?s most engaging mammals, the sea otter. I dip, stroke, then twist my paddle so that it slips between fronds of the ocean?s fl oating kelp jungle, where moments ago we spotted one of these curious characters periscoping above the waves. It?s a perfect day for paddling ? no wind, blue sky mottled by puffy clouds, as we skirt the southern shore of Spring Island and aim our bows at the mouth of Kyuquot Sound and beyond to that nebulous horizon where water meets sky, eyes peeled for movement in the water. Just 20 minutes ago our fl eet of eight was savouring the morning?s cappuccinos at West Coast Expeditions? Spring Island base camp, before sliding kayaks from the cobble beach into a protected bay ringed with oldgrowth cedar and Sitka spruce. Our goal: to circle the island in search of a raft of male sea otters that frequents the rocky islets and kelp beds of the Mission Group of islands to which Spring Island belongs. ?There?s a couple,? says guide Dave Pinel. The West Coast Expeditions co-owner has spent more than a dozen seasons on this remote stretch of Vancouver Island coastline, barely 150 kilometres northwest of Tofi no, and has developed a deep affi nity for the waters of Kyuquot Sound and its indigenous peoples. He even has his own informal KYUQUOT SOUND is just south of B.C.?s largest marine preserve, the Checleset Bay Ecological Reserve ? fi rst established to protect sea otter habitat; coffee-break crush, Kyuquot Village; Spring Island base camp.
by Andre w Findlay
photography by Boomer Jerritt native radio call name: bald eagle. A keen naturalist, Pinel also has a particularly soft spot for otters ? the world?s second-smallest marine mammal and second-largest member of the weasel family. ?They?re kind of like teenagers,? he says, as we observe a pair cavorting in the kelp. ?They spend a third of the day eating, another third sleeping and a fi nal third grooming.? Pinel hands me the binoculars. The creatures? front paws are almost human-like in their dexterity, and with their stomachs rolled skyward, their heads slightly elevated and alert, their swimming reminds me of when I was a kid learning the elementary backstroke. YAWNING FROM BROOKS PENINSULA IN THE north and Esperanza Inlet to the south, the large, quarter-moon indentation on Vancouver Island?s west coast that is Kyuquot Sound is fertile water for sea otters, as well as the traditional territory of the Kyuquot and Checleset First Nations. Today it seems beautiful and wild. But in the 1990s, Kyuquot earned international notoriety when the province?s War in the Woods raged and a National Geographic photographer snapped a shot of nearby Mt. Paxton freshly clear-cut from high tide to mountaintop. The bald abomination instantly became the ugly poster child for all that was wrong with clearcut logging. In the last few decades, though, the region has grown equally famous as ground zero for the sea otter?s Pacifi c Coast recovery. The species had been virtually extirpated during B.C.?s ecologically disastrous but lucrative coastal fur trade more than a century ago. Between 1788 ? when Captain James Cook fi rst explored Vancouver Island?s (icon Illustration) veer.com WESTWORLD >> SUMMER 2010 31