Domain of the Great Bear

A ridge of deep green, forested slopes with a valley to the right of them, and clouds over their peaks. The sea is in the foreground.
Domain of the Great Bear”: Pooley Island, one of the prints in my new exhibit (click on images to expand).

I captured the photo above as we were cruising along the north side of Pooley Island, after leaving BC’s fabled Fiordland on BC’s North coast, in the heart of the Great Bear Sea.

The deep greens and smooth curves of Pooley’s rainforest slopes and valley were less dramatic than Fiordland’s massive snowy peaks, but no less beautiful to my eye – not to mention soothing on a day with deteriorating weather. After a sunny morning, a brisk wind was now rising and the clouds were moving in, so it was time to find an overnight anchorage.

There are only two viable anchorages on Pooley Island: James Bay on its southeast and Windy Bay on its north. Both locations are close to Fiordland, so we’d stayed at James Bay (photo below) two nights earlier, on our way into Fiordland.

Forested shoreline with evening light on the trees, mountains in the background and clouds overhead.

James Bay is pretty and ecologically rich, with a healthy estuary and creek that support diverse wildlife including black, spirit and grizzly bears along with wolves. But it falls short as an anchorage, at least if you value your sleep. It’s wide open to the south, so any winds or chop running up Mathieson Channel reach deep into the bay. We bounced for most of the night.

Coming back out of Fiordland two mornings later, we pulled into Windy Bay on Pooley’s north side. We crossed our fingers that the spot didn’t live up to its name, as by then we really needed a good night’s sleep. We were in luck: despite a considerable chop in the channel, it was calm in the anchorage. Windy Bay was the perfect place for two sleep-deprived seniors to drop their hook. Which might be why I didn’t get around to taking any photos while I was there.


I’m happy to announce the opening of my new exhibit on Gabriola Island, “Images from the Great Bear Sea” – my first solo show in four years. It features 16 new photographs which I’ve printed for the first time, all from our 2022 trip to this vast, remote and largely wilderness area. It also includes 10 prints from our earlier trips to the area. The exhibit is on now, and runs until April 25, downstairs at the Gabriola Medical Centre on Church St. (open Monday to Friday).

Sunflower Celebration

Downy woodpecker hanging from a sunflower seedhead.
Downy woodpecker enjoying the buffet (click on any of the photos to enlarge).

Thanks to the great work of the bees, we’ve had a wealth of sunflower delights in our garden over the past month.

The plants, now about 12 feet high, have been hugely popular with our backyard birds, including the Downy woodpecker above, and an ongoing rapid parade of Chestnut-backed chickadees, like these two:

For the birds, the sunflowers have proved to be food for the body – and for us humans, they’ve been every bit as valuable, as food for the soul.

A Moment with Bees

Close-up view of two bees pollinating a sunflower.
A morning’s work. Click on the image to enlarge, then zoom in to see the pollen grains sticking to the bees.

Bees have been plentiful and active in our garden all summer, though almost always moving too quickly for me to photograph. But the other day, when I had my camera conveniently in hand, I noticed that high up on the now-very tall sunflowers, bees were moving ever so slowly. I watched through my telephoto lens as they ambled along, seeming to savour the taste and texture of the dense floral carpet, while sticky pollen grains clung to the hairs on their heads, legs and bellies. It was a moment that I could also savour.


Despite its brevity, it’s taken me a few days to complete this post as I’ve been trying to identify what type of bees they are. I know by the absence of pollen sacs on their back legs that they’re not honeybees. Nor are they chubby enough to be bumblebees, though plenty of those can also be found in our garden. My best semi-educated guess is that they’re likely some species of mason bee, one of the many types of non-colonial “solitary bees” that together make up over 90% of North America’s native bee populations. But I’m far from certain, so if any readers of this post can help clear up my confusion, I’d welcome your comments.

On the Move

Stellar sea lion popping up to have a look at the photographer. The sea lion appears to pause and is surrounded by blue water and bubbles and the wave created by its body as it swims.

Popping up for a quick recce (click on photos to enlarge).

There was no real herring spawn in our area this year, so the hordes of sea lions attracted by that early spring feast were absent.

But happily, on one of the few days that we managed to get to Drumbeg Park for a walk, we were treated to a brief sighting of a trio of Stellar sea lions.

The first two motored right on by, too fast for me to get much of a look at, let alone photograph. But the third one stopped just long enough for the briefest of meet-ups…

A close view of a light brown Stellar sea lion swimming along, its head out of the water and its body visible from underwater.

…and then it was time to be off again. Spring seems to find everyone on the move.