Effingham Bay - 31 July/2 August 2010
After a short jaunt back to the States to conduct business and reprovision, we are back in the Barkleys! I feel like we have come home! On our return the whales greeted us. This time around I was actually able to photograph them! Fishing boats were a plenty...all the way up from the Port of San Juan. Hopefully that is an auspicious sign for us and our fishing endeavors.
There were 9 boats at anchor in Effingham Bay, with room for many more. By nightfall the number increased to 14. We were unable to secure the prime spot in the bay's "thumb" (were the trailhead to the ancient Indian Village is), but were close enough to row to it. After a long day of travel - we rested. On the following day I ventured to shore to visit the village grounds.
As I rowed towards the trailhead, I noticed a DeFever that hailed from none other than Florence, Oregon (my home town). The owners of the vessel were on their aft deck, so I rowed over to chat with them. Chris and Dave. Of course they had heard of the Braley's...they originally were from Reedsport and had known the Prozialeck name, as well. Time to break out in "it's a small world after all"!
The trail is uniquely marked. No signs or placards - just debris. A crab float tied to a tree here, an old shoe overturned on a sick there. It was a fun hike, not long, but winding and rugged. The trail wound through a dense old growth forest to the eastern shore of Effingham Island. It is hard to put the village site into accurate words. There are no buildings or foundations to be seen. Rather, the village is "felt". Just off of the beach, nestled amoungst the trees, there are areas of ground tha
t are flat. A berm runs behind the open spaces, which is were the villagers of thousands of years ago, placed their molusk shells. this is now covered in a dense moss. I found batches of hedge nettle and mustard greens which resembles a garden left to its own devices. And while walking the grounds I could smell mint, but was never able to place its source, though it was rather strong. The guidebook mentioned that the village had an "eerie" feeling, although I would say that it had a more mystically haunted feel.
After my exploration of the village. I wandered down to the shore. The cove was encompassed by rocks with manificent tidepools. I could fully understand why its earlier inhabitants had chosen the spot. Closer into shore there were boulders. I hopped from boulder to boulder and found pockets of sand that was covered in small sea shells. I have never seen such a bounty of color and variety on a West Coast beach. I had brought a baggie to collect "treasures'. After an hour or so, engrossed in my task, i began the trek home.
After a short jaunt back to the States to conduct business and reprovision, we are back in the Barkleys! I feel like we have come home! On our return the whales greeted us. This time around I was actually able to photograph them! Fishing boats were a plenty...all the way up from the Port of San Juan. Hopefully that is an auspicious sign for us and our fishing endeavors.
There were 9 boats at anchor in Effingham Bay, with room for many more. By nightfall the number increased to 14. We were unable to secure the prime spot in the bay's "thumb" (were the trailhead to the ancient Indian Village is), but were close enough to row to it. After a long day of travel - we rested. On the following day I ventured to shore to visit the village grounds.
As I rowed towards the trailhead, I noticed a DeFever that hailed from none other than Florence, Oregon (my home town). The owners of the vessel were on their aft deck, so I rowed over to chat with them. Chris and Dave. Of course they had heard of the Braley's...they originally were from Reedsport and had known the Prozialeck name, as well. Time to break out in "it's a small world after all"!
The trail is uniquely marked. No signs or placards - just debris. A crab float tied to a tree here, an old shoe overturned on a sick there. It was a fun hike, not long, but winding and rugged. The trail wound through a dense old growth forest to the eastern shore of Effingham Island. It is hard to put the village site into accurate words. There are no buildings or foundations to be seen. Rather, the village is "felt". Just off of the beach, nestled amoungst the trees, there are areas of ground tha
t are flat. A berm runs behind the open spaces, which is were the villagers of thousands of years ago, placed their molusk shells. this is now covered in a dense moss. I found batches of hedge nettle and mustard greens which resembles a garden left to its own devices. And while walking the grounds I could smell mint, but was never able to place its source, though it was rather strong. The guidebook mentioned that the village had an "eerie" feeling, although I would say that it had a more mystically haunted feel.
After my exploration of the village. I wandered down to the shore. The cove was encompassed by rocks with manificent tidepools. I could fully understand why its earlier inhabitants had chosen the spot. Closer into shore there were boulders. I hopped from boulder to boulder and found pockets of sand that was covered in small sea shells. I have never seen such a bounty of color and variety on a West Coast beach. I had brought a baggie to collect "treasures'. After an hour or so, engrossed in my task, i began the trek home.
