Port Alberni Yacht Club

This week I’ll be leaving for a little vacation to the Port Alberni Yacht Club. Don’t let the “Yacht Club” part fool you, its not as posh as it sounds, but it is beautiful. My step-grandparents have been long time members of the PAYC, and in my middle/ high school days I would go there every summer with my family.

The club sits on a small island in Barkley Sound, just outside of Bamfield. The Sound itself is a great place to kayak, scuba dive, hike, explore sea caves, camp and view wildlife, but the reason I’m heading out with my family is to do some fishing and relaxing.

In the top picture you can see an abandoned Green Peace boat (that I think may have since been hauled away/ sunk) and the pristine landscape. There is a small cookhouse that sits on the dock in the bay of a small island. There is mooring for members of PAYC and also for visitors. There is electricity for the cookhouse from a small generator on the island, and a shower on the dock which has water pumped from a lake on the island. The bridge from the dock takes you ashore to a small bunkhouse with 2 rooms, and an outhouse. There are a few kilometers of trail around the island to explore, a nice (rocky) beach, a small cave, and beautiful views everywhere.

As mentioned, when I was in my mid-teens I would travel with my family every summer, but its probably been 10 years since I’ve been so it will be interesting to go back. I’ve been retracing the terrain in my mind’s eye and I still know the trails around the island like the back of my hand. The trips I took to the PAYC as a kid definitely helped give me a better appreciation for nature and the outdoors. If not for these trips I can guarantee you I wouldn’t know how to fillet a fish, or catch and cook crab:

The days typically go like this: Wake up waaayy too early (if I can remember, something like 6 or 7am) and get on the boat. Have some breakfast as we stroll out to the fishing ‘hot-spot’ for that day. Get there, set up the down-riggers, and troll for salmon. The amount of fish caught always seemed to depend on the year, with one year catching lots of salmon, the next nothing but mackerel. We would fish all day, and perhaps if we had the dingy take it to an island packed with oysters (barring red-tide). After enjoying the ocean water, maybe some big swells, and whatever excitement the day brought, we head back with our catch to enjoy ‘happy hour’. As a kid, of course, I never participated in happy hour, but was busy putting the fish guts into the crab trap, or off exploring the island (this year might be a little different). The evenings involved hanging out on the dock, filleting the fish, pulling up the crab traps, cooking crab for appys, having a great dinner, watching the sunset, and playing cribbage in the cookhouse until bedtime.

The next day might be a repeat of the previous, we might do some shrimping, or just have a relaxing day on the island. Or we might take the dingy to a point and jig for some cod. Being in the little boat, being bashed around by large waves, drifting too close to the shoreline rocks while the little engine won’t fire, while having one fishing line stuck on bottom rocks, and one line hauling in a cod (or maybe starfish) was always exciting:

One of the greatest memories I have of the PAYC trips was catching this guy:

An ‘against all odds’ fishing story, we were trolling from salmon in ~20ft of water close to shore when we got a bite. It was my turn to reel in the catch, but I couldn’t seem to make any progress.

“I think we snagged bottom, it’s not moving” I said. (Give me a break, my biceps weren’t as ripping as they are now)
My grandfather looking at the depth sounder says “No way, give me the line”.

After an hour of fighting a halibut surfaced. A BIG halibut. We were able to spear it and somewhat pin him on the swim-grid. With halibut that big, you can’t bring them aboard because they are actually powerful enough to throw YOU overboard. We made a B-line back to the dock trying to keep the massive fish under control as it violently flapped on the swimgrid. We got it safely to  the dock and it weighed in at 105 lbs! It was amazing that during the struggle it didn’t snap the 50lb fishing line. The other crazy thing is that halibut are typically bottom dwellers, miles offshore, not hanging out in 20 feet of water so close to land.

So I’ll be gone from the 20th – 26th. Don’t expect any blog posts during that time, no WiFi, no cell service, it should be great :)