by Tyler Zetterstrom

So, today was the day we lined up for trying our hand at prawning, in our new, used, boat. For both of us, this was our first time solely operating a boat and going our own way. Our neighbors had lent us their prawn traps, and actually everything else under the sun, to put one's boat to water for the first time. Waking up to sun shine and perfectly blue skies, we were eager to board ship early while the waters were calm. After packing up and going over some last points with Paul, our neighbor, we were on our way to the Tahsis hardware store to pick up cans of cat food for the prawns, this followed by a fuel stop, and next thing you know we had the boat in the water.

I give the boat a good shove, and leaping in, I jump to the rear to start the engine. Anneko states, "Isn't that Paul and Josie?"

I look up the ramp and there they are driving in and shouting, "Bon Voyage!" I figure they were just making sure we had remembered what we needed to do to make it safely into the water. Quickly turning around, they head on their way. I turn the key... tick, tick, tick!! What is that? I flip switches like crazy, mind running through all the combinations and possibilities of things I may have forgotten. I try a few variations and am stumped. The engine starts up normally as soon as the key is turned, if you have done things correctly. I try for a while and we drift back to shore. Jumping in the water I pull us back to the ramp.

"Hmmmm... everything worked the other day!" I exclaim to Anneko.

As a last resort I decide to look at the supposed "new" battery, as stated by the seller. At this point I am in one of those "so confused" states that I will look at anything that a relation can be drawn between. Not quite sure why I am going to stare at the battery, I luckily notice that the connectors are wing-nuts and decide to try to tighten them. They are quite loose and sure enough the engine turns over now as I turn the key. I am all proud of myself and reassure Anneko of the minor glitch. This time, however, I decide to try to start the engine before casting off. Engine turns over and over... and over. Now what! I play things through my mind and scratch my head, and eventually the battery actually dies as I try every imaginable thing to get it to start. Guess it isn't a new battery! Good to know before this happens out at sea.

Eventually we haul the vessel back out of the water and go back to our neighbors to rinse the engine and contemplate options. Luckily, our neighbor easily removes his battery and offers us to use it instead for the day. We swap out batteries and now trying to start the engine, it just keeps turning over with no sparking, just like previously, except now the battery is not dying. I finally get a hunch. I move the gear into reverse and back to neutral, turn the key, and "VVVVRRRROOOMMM!!", the engine jumps to life to my glee. Supposedly there is a sensor that does not allow the engine to start if it is in gear, but I suppose the sensor initiates a little earlier than actually being in gear and I must have just been in the slightest of wrong positions. Ok now we can try again.

Once again we launch but this time, in seconds, we are running and on our way. Our plan is to go to Mozino point and on the other side of the inlet drop some prawn traps, something else we have never done before. Thanks to the abundance of knowledge and experiences bursting out of Paul's cranial lobes, we are confident we will succeed at placing the traps. I realize, now, that there was lots Paul shared about placing the traps, but I don't remember anything about retrieving them. Hmm, guess we will be having another lesson tomorrow morning at Paul and Josie's.

Within no time we are across from Mozino point and the weather is incredible. Winds have died out and we are in bliss. Finally a long-time dream of mine has come true. I am fascinated with drifting on the water and have fond memories of sleeping on boats and in general looking at the world around you from the water. So, there in our little 15.5 foot boat, I finally lay down in the sun on the nosepiece of the boat and soak up the washes of sensory streams. The smell of sea-water, the gentle breeze, swaying in the lapping waves, peace of isolation, the freedom from bugs, and the dreams of exploration. I can already tell that I have opened a door to a new world that I will frequent often, arms open wide to embrace the adventures and experiences.

We eventually decide to place the prawn traps according to the rules laid out for us. Working together Anneko and I eventually get everything together as we are supposed to. Down one trap sinks, tuna cat food trapped within, casting its essence to the water currents, ready to attract the unwary prawn... hopefully in the hundreds! Everything seems to go well, the trap hits bottom, the float stays afloat, and we are basking in the glory of scenery and existence.

Eventually the winds begin picking up and the current starts flowing up the inlet. We decide we had better place one more trap, but think to do so closer to Tahsis. On the way back I start eyeing the rock banks meeting the water, in the hopes of spotting characteristics that might suggest prime diving locations. I tend to look for steep rock cliffs dropping into the water, which will most likely continue below the water and generally house the most interesting underwater life. Being thirty feet from shore and slowly drifting along, we notice a slightly sheltered bay around one small point. In the inlet waves are forming and cresting due to the increasing winds, yet this little bay is barely touched by these effects. Wanting to test the little anchor that came with the boat, I suggest to Anneko that we do so here and rest for a bit. At the other end of the bay is a huge, smooth rock wall dropping two hundred feet or more before meeting the water. I am already thinking of the possibility of going diving here. Anneko agrees and almost no sooner than I succeed at anchoring us. The boat holds well and Anneko lays down for a snooze. I look around, soaking up the environment, and eventually curl up at the nose of the boat as well. Both of us lost in the wonderful feelings that come with a sunny day in spring.

At some point I realize I am being called to the water, and I leave my perch to don my diving gear. I tell Anneko that I am going to the other end of the bay and maybe will return with a sea urchin, to her delight. She does not actually believe I will find any, but I have a strong feeling that the steep wall will continue to quite a depth under the water, and I know the urchins seem to like these walls, at least in these areas. Diving a few times along the way I find the rock formations very unique for the area and sense that this may be quite a nice diving location. The visibility is not very good this day, but enough for me to scout out the area. I find huge growth of seaweed at thirty feet and below, of which I gather one large leaf to surprise Anneko. We like to eat seaweed, but there are so many kinds that you have to try them to find out which ones can be digested more readily. I hope this one is edible, because there is expansive gardens below me of this stuff.

Arriving at the point, I quickly do a few dives, retrieving one of many large, red sea urchins. I see a few instances of some kind of sponge, or squirt, that I have never seen before and there is a good variety of many types of underwater life from the general area. I wish I had been here during the winter when visibility was incredible. The rock wall does continue down underwater for more than twenty meters, has large horizontal crevices, and many formations of rocks that create openings and small caverns. This will definitely be an interesting place to return to and explore.

I decided to return to the boat and share the rewards of my excursion. Back in the boat, we decide to make our way back, but want to place the other prawn trap. It occurs to us that just out from where we are is as good as any places as far as we know, so we scoot out a little deeper and prepare the trap. Moments after finishing preparing the trap, something splashes near us and Anneko and I are caught dumbfounded as a Pacific White-sided Dolphin, or Harbour Porpoise (since writing this I have deduced they are Harbour Porpoises), back and dorsal fin cut out of the water and back under, as a mist of water and air is exhaled straight up and a big breath is taken in. We could not determine exactly whether the animals are the dolphin or the porpoise so I will just refer to them as porpoise. They acted strongly like dolphins, but I thought the body characterstics and markings suggested they were porpoises.

We immediately are startled to see other porpoises swimming towards our boat as we drift with the strong current. Shutting the engine down, we peer into the water watching for the next encounter. Neither of us have ever had close interactions with these animals, but both of us have been dreaming about it for years. We have seen them from aboard the BC Ferries, usually at great distances away though. This is something quite different. Watching with intense fascination we notice one with a scar part way down its tail. I am barely able to contain myself as I yelp and grunt with pleasure at each passing or breach of these animals. We spot what easily looks to be near ten porpoises, yet the one with the scar seems to be intensely curious of us. It continually swims past our boat, turning its side up and belly in our direction as its neck pivots, to allow a curious eye, a good luck at us. Others seem to sweep by us as well and as they reach the opposite end of our boat, they are quick to plunge down into the deep. "Scar" gets so curious eventually that he throws away all inhibitions and does two laps, circling our at a distance of four feet from its edge. I am amazed as I watch these porpoises actually turn their heads to peer up at us through the water, focusing seperately on Anneko and myself.

Unwillingly, my mind recovers somewhat from this awe and I realize I have my camera on board. I scramble for it, nervous for any lost moments of witnessing these creatures. Neither of us know how long they will stay and we expect the overall encounter to be quite short, but I figure it is worth a try, to bring some of the experience home. I begin taking photos of the porpoises as they breach and some of them underwater as they pass the boat. As we peer at them through the water, only a few feet away, we can see their characteristic details. They have a very short nose, and the underside, leading up the side of the body, is mainly white. Regularly they arc out of the water and back down, flaunting a small dorsal find that curves back, ending in a shark tip and curving back down to their back in a bite. The fin and back looks dark black and glistens in the sun and water. It occurs to me that maybe video would share the experience better than the hasty photos I try to take, so I switch to video mode and digest as much of the porpoises as I can.

Still having my wet suit on, I finally think to jump in the water. The porpoises had stopped showing, a few minutes prior to this, so we could not tell if my being in the water would scare them away. Entering the water and scanning in every direction, I felt next to hopeless with the horrible visibility. To my surprise I look up just in time to witness a porpoise swim out of the murk right in front of me and quickly turning its side to me as it took a quick glance, and then just as quickly turning away back to where it came from. Not much to see with the murkiness of the water, but the point was not really to satisfy my eyes, but instead my heart and soul, to acknowledge the free-will presence of our two entities within this watery world, both curious of the other's place. It was a success.

After that, they did not show for some time, so I returned to the boat and jumped in. We thought to continue with our prawn trap but as soon as I start up the engine, the porpoises return and replay the same events. This happens a few times and we have drifted more than a kilometer from the first place we encountered the porpoises. In the hopes of really determining if they are following us or just drifting with the current as we have been, we take off up the inlet. Half a kilometer later, it does not look like they kept up or intend to bow-ride us. I turn the boat around to head back. At that moment, sure enough, I watch a porpoise breach right where we just turned from. I laugh as we make our way back to where we intend to set the prawn trap.

So, with porpoises breaching all around us, we set our minds on finishing our task, and stick to setting a prawn trap. Incredible currents attempt to thwart our deft prawn trapping skills, but in the end we manage and eventually the porpoises move on as well. It was hard to accept that I could not move on with them, but I still seem to have some semblance of belief that I am a form of human. We returned home after that with our minds awash with memories and replaying the events in anticipation of our next incredible encounter. It is just beginning...

Tyler Zetterstrom