It’s been a couple of very warm weeks on the coast. Too hot to be in the garden in the afternoon, we seek the shade.
And when evening comes, we go back to the western deck, to admire the golden hour tinged with red, as the sun goes down behind the distant mountains of Vancouver Island.
Above: the Chrome Island lighthouse, near Denman Island, BC.
On a sunny day, the British Columbia coast is unequaled. You can watch all kinds of boats at work and at play … and I’ve decided to share a few examples of the action.
First, a seine fishing boat, with its net all rolled up, travelling the channel between Vancouver Island and Denman Island, on the BC coast.
This is a crab fishing boat. The fishermen are busy hauling in the traps, surrounded by a cortège of noisy gulls. The fishermen have to immediately sort their catch, throwing back any females, and males smaller than 165mm across the shell. The gulls hope that some crabs don’t sink fast enough…
This little volunteer armada moved a 200 foot concrete dock from Swarz Bay on Vancouver Island to Saturna Island, some 28+ km over smooth and rough waters… all in the preparations for the annual Saturna Lamb Barbecue. Save the date, the party is on July 1st.
This was taken earlier this spring on Hornby Island, BC, when a departing Coast Guard vessel passed in front of our boat. The cormorants did not seem at all disturbed by the action. Blasé birds…
And under wind power, a few Sunday sailors head for Browning Harbour, Pender Island, BC.
Everyone is cordially invited to the opening reception of my exhibition, June 24, 4 to 6 p.m. The opening will be followed by a dinner prepared by chef Hubertus Surm.
(Reservations for dinner: 250-539-5177)
The exhibition at the Saturna Café goes to August 2, 2017.
“Narrative is anchored in the passage of time. A story unfolds in the tension between a beginning and an end. Singly and in juxtaposition, these photographs by Andrée Fredette are replete with stories. An image of a seemingly deserted Mayne Queen is paired with a photograph of a ghostly Saturna, producing a tinge of anxiety and uncertainty. Again, an empty path in the forest tells a tale of fear and disquiet. Further, the infinitely small (feathers) and the infinitely vast (the awesome sky) are conjured up. There are no figures in these photographs despite the great variety of subject matter. An irony resides in these works: it is suggested that they evoke the passage of time, yet photography congeals duration. This irony adds a layer of complexity — a dialectical interplay — to our experience of these artworks: we move from duration to time’s suspension and back again. Also, some of these works underline the materiality of the photographic medium, a salutary move in the era of digital media. Meditation portrays an ethereal, almost monochromatic sky — the surface of the photograph is underlined. Also, grains of sand and the grain of the photographic object conjoin in a literal manner. There is a hint of nostalgia in all these works: the backing in aluminum recalls photography’s metallurgic substrate —silver—and the quasi alchemical nature of work in the darkroom, a process which has almost been entirely eclipsed by digital technologies.”
— Jean-François Renaud
Photo above: Boiling Reef, near the point, is still an encampment for Steller sea lions, harbour seals, eagles, ducks and more.
On a grey day in spring, it’s a quiet place. Few people, plenty of birds. A rare daytime low tide, too. Great for bird watching…
Above: the long nose of East Point, and in the distance, Boiling Reef to the right (the rocks where the big critters lounge), and the tip of Tumbo Island on the left.
There is quite a bit of wildlife at East Point, on Saturna Island… Lots of birds are finishing their winter residence and will soon depart for other locations in BC and Northward.
A Harlequin drake (Histrionicus histrionicus), handsome fellow, at the water’s edge. Waiting for the tide to come back in.
Not far away, his girlfriend, the female Harlequin.
Above: another Harlequin female, standing right where the buffet is happening, as the tide is rising. They seemed to like spots where the returning water was flipping over the sea weeds…
And this handsome one is a male Barrow’s Goldeneye (Bucephala islandica). Caught him just after he surfaced, water still beading on his plumage.
Above, a view of Boiling Reef, where the Steller sea lions (Eumetopias jubatus) are still lounging. They will soon leave to go to their rookery, that party place where all the mating occurs during the summer. To get that shot, I used a long lens because they are far away. The males can reach 7 to 9 feet long, and weigh 1.2 tons…
Which is why I am all the more impressed by the sang-froid of this diver:
Photo above: participants in the “Round the County Sailing Race”, rounding the Lighthouse Point, Patos Island, WA. Photo taken from East Point, Saturna Island, BC, roughly 6 km away…
On Sunday afternoon, I decided to go to East Point, to get some fresh air (and oh yes, the air certainly was fresh…). Although rain was threatening, I went because someone pointed out that a major sailing race was underway in the Orcas islands. The header photo above is the best shot I could get, from 6km away…
Above: a straggler, way behind the rest of the participants…
A good breeze was flowing through and I found a large gathering of gulls, all over the rocks.
Gulls everywhere, resting while facing the wind.
Above: I think these are junior (not quite mature) herring gulls…
It was like a gull convention. Or the prelude to The Birds (you know, the Hitchcock movie…).
And more coming…
And these caught my eye, because of their red beaks…
I had to look them up today: they are Heerman’s gulls, and these waters are probably their northernmost habitat on the Pacific Northwest.
There were all kinds of Harlequin ducks, fishing around the point. Above, a lovely couple. The gulls kept trying to fly close, land next to the ducks after they surfaced, to steal whatever they had caught…
Oops, the hen dove and the drake gets to pose for the camera…
Here is a harlequin hen, at the shore…
And then there were the little ones, the sandpipers, scurrying between the gulls. They are so tiny and quick, and their camouflage colours are so efficient that they are hard to spot…
Snack time…
After a couple of hours, my fingers started to feel frozen (note to self: bring gloves, next time), so I decided to head home.
I leave you with a shot from the night before, a Saturday evening sunset minuet:
