The best thing about living on board a boat in British Columbia during summer is being able to experience some of the most remote places on the coast. And being able to stay there for a while. And the wildlife. Okay, there is a lot to love about it!
But remote places come with their challenges.
One of the places I’ve wanted to go for years is Knight Inlet. It stretches more than 100 kilometres into the BC mainland and is more than 500 metres deep in places. On a boat that only goes 6 knots, going all the way to the head of the inlet is a long trip. Especially since there are very few viable anchorages once you get farther up.
I thought I would have to take a tour in a fast boat to see it, but after doing some research and chatting with other boaters, I decided to take a chance, go halfway and attempt to anchor in Glendale Cove. Others had done it. Not always successfully, and it wasn’t always comfortable. But I wanted to try. Specifically because Glendale Cove is home to a stunning estuary that is popular with grizzly bears.
Afternoon winds tend to pick up in the inlet, which meant anchoring had to work. There would be no time to go back.
We had a glorious trip up the inlet. The mountains rose almost straight out of the water, disappearing into low clouds and mist above that strange milky green water you find in glacier-fed inlets.
We found a good spot with adequate depth to anchor just inside MacDonald Point. I wouldn’t call it comfortable though. All three nights we were there, rollers came through the anchorage until about 1am when things finally calmed down enough to get some sleep.
In the photo below, Vestri at anchor is nothing more than a tiny white speck along the waterline. Look carefully, she’s there on the left. I love this photo because it shows the scale of the place better than I could ever describe it. Knight Inlet made us feel very small.
And there was so much to photograph before we ever got anywhere near the bears. Moody clouds wrapped around the mountains, mist drifted through the valleys, and in the mornings the sun slowly came over the mountains and lit the inlet from behind.
Other mornings were so cloudy you couldn’t even see the mountains, but the calm water and the mist gave the place a whole different feeling.
After we made it through the first night without problems, we were willing to leave the boat for a few hours and take the dinghy up the estuary to visit the bears. Even without bears, the estuary was spectacular.
We paddled up, and waited around for quite a while, enjoying the peace and the view until finally some bears came. A mother and two cubs. What a treat! To be alone in the wilderness, just us two and the bears, was such an incredible wildlife experience.
They started wandering slowly through the grasses toward a narrow channel of water. I started whispering, “Cross the river, cross the river,” even though I didn’t really expect them to do it.
But I was ready just in case.
The mother crossed first, leaving the two cubs on the other side. At that point, I knew it was only a matter of time.
This is one of those things about wildlife photography that nobody really talks about. Sometimes the hard part isn’t reacting quickly. It’s being willing to hold the camera in position and wait.
And wait.
My arm started to ache from holding it up, my finger on the shutter, even though I was using a monopod. I didn’t want to lower it even for a few seconds. I knew that would probably be the exact moment the cubs decided to move.
Then it happened.
The two cubs crossed the river.
Those are the moments I love in wildlife photography — when you see something developing, you have no idea whether it will actually happen, and all you can do is be ready.
The first time we went, wind and waves made it difficult to stay offshore, so Ray ended up doing a lot of paddling while I tried to photograph bears from a moving dinghy. The second time we took our dinghy anchor, and that made both the bear watching and photography much more enjoyable.
I used my Canon 7D with the 400mm f/5.6L, one of my favourite wildlife setups. The 400mm is light enough to hand hold — for a while.
Since I’m not very strong, I like using a monopod for wildlife photography. It takes the weight of the camera while keeping it at eye level, because wildlife involves a lot of waiting followed by a few seconds when suddenly you need to be ready. When something happens, I don’t want to be lifting the camera into position. I want to already be looking through it.
There is a fancy resort there, Glendale Lodge, and they and other commercial tour operators bring guests in to see the bears. One of the lodge operators told us that private boats were not allowed within 50 metres of shore, so we stayed outside that distance. Then we watched the commercial operators take their boats right past us and farther up into the estuary. Some of them had double-decker viewing platforms!
Going on our own certainly didn’t give us the closest view of the bears. But it did mean we could visit on our own schedule and come back again the next day. Then, when we were finished, we returned to our own boat anchored in Glendale Cove.
That part was pretty special.
Of course, most people aren’t going to arrive at Knight Inlet on their own boat. If seeing and photographing the bears is your main goal, a bear-watching tour would probably give you a much better view. The commercial operators have boats designed for bear viewing and take guests farther into the estuary.
For boaters thinking about making the trip independently, Glendale Cove is possible, but I wouldn’t count on an easy anchorage. It is deep, there aren’t many places to put an anchor down, and the anchorage can get uncomfortable when rollers come down the inlet. There also aren’t many alternatives if you arrive and don’t like what you find.
Still, I’m glad we took the chance. We got the wild landscape, the mist and mountains, sunrise over the inlet, a few uncomfortable nights at anchor, and two little grizzly cubs finally doing exactly what I had been whispering at them to do.
