Bustard island Lights as we depart
Good anchorages are kind of thin in this section. We had further to go to the next spot than we have usually been doing recently. After an initial few narrow miles, we entered the open lake for the bulk of the leg. That gave us the welcome chance to let the sails do some of the work of getting us there.
When we arrived at our intended anchorage, just to the north of Noble Island, in Beaverstone Bay, we both felt it didn’t allow enough swinging room for our stay. We then decided to go with a different strategy and set our anchor in the middle of big, wide spot between Burnt Island and Phillip Edward Island. That way, we had both plenty of room to swing and long views of the surrounding islands while we took a couple of rain days.
When the weather cleared, we had a short paddle around the closest island groups. On Burnt Island, the biggest in the area, we were hoping to get in a decent walk. The eastern side of the island is dominated by a twenty-something-meter rock face. The top is relatively uniform in height and we thought if we could find our way up there, we should be able to stroll almost the entire length of the island on smooth, bald rock.
Exploring the area
Alas, it was not to be. The western shore of the island turned out to be mostly reeds and thick marsh. We did find a rocky ledge that we could free climb to get access to some of the larger boulders in the interior, but we could never find a passable route through to the eastern wall. We had to content ourselves with the views our increased elevation could provide.
One thing we have started to notice that the long views confirmed is that maybe one in every fifty trees is starting to change to Autumn colors. It seems to be happening everywhere now, not just in isolated clumps. We have also noticed that most of the animals seem to be gone, as if all the fauna in the area went extinct over the summer (hopefully not). Surrounded by all this wilderness, we are lucky to spot one or two critters a day. There are beaver lodges everywhere, but no beavers.
Even birds are pretty rare. Hearing the occasional far-off call is often the only evidence we have that there are any around at all. The silence in between can be a little eerie. Two mornings in a row, we saw a couple of large flocks of Canada Geese high above, honking to each other with confident purpose. They were heading south this time. We would expect the skies to start filling with them, but we haven’t seen or heard any since.
On our last day in Beaverstone Inlet, I thought I would top off our not-too-strenuous kayak/rock scramble with a cooling afternoon dip in the pool. I must admit I was forcing it a bit, since the air was barely past lukewarm, but it was helped by cloudless, bright sunshine. The water, however, has been receiving hours less sun per day than at its peak at the solstice. That, plus the sun is also at a shallower angle. It is starting to cool quickly. This time, I never acclimated to the temperature after that first, bracing dunk. Before I could get used to it, I was shivering and had to get out to warm up. It seems my recreational swimming season has come to a close.
Anchorage location On google maps
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