Chuck Gould wrote:


Calif Bill wrote:


Desolation Sound sounds good. Isn't that where Lloyd and is blow
up vinyl xxx visit? Figure maybe 3 weeks for the trip. We have
done 4 European countries in 3 weeks one time. But have also done
Italy in a month. and 2 countries in a month.

Here's something from my archives about a day in Desolation Sound. It
might whet your appetite. I might have posted this about a year ago,
so I apologize if it's a repeat.

Toba Wildernest


We motored slowly up Homfray Channel, where despite the late August
date and the Desolation Sound location we encountered no other boats
for over two hours. The wind was fast asleep, and the seas perfectly
unperturbed. Our passage was like sliding across a black, silver, and
cerulean mirror, with the gentle ripples of our wake forming a long,
crisp, perpetual V. We glided through the shady canyons between
craggy, dark green mountain peaks girdled with tumbling layers of
crinoline clouds. It seemed as though the world had been drawn afresh
for a moment, and especially to our taste.

The nearly vertical mountains flanking our course were lofty summits
indeed, born in almost equally deep caverns in the world of silent
blackness under our keel. Peaks near Pt. Foster are taller than
Snoqualmie Pass. Just beyond the abandoned village at Homfray Creek,
Mt. Whiledon sports a NE glacier at an elevation approaching 6000 feet
(higher than Denver, Colorado). Our sounder confirmed the predictions
of the chartplotter, measuring depths of 1500, 1700, and finally
surrendering the effort as the bottom dropped below the 2000-foot
limit of the device. From our vantage point in the channel, no roads,
farms, or villages could be seen. Our view was much like that of the
early Spanish and English explorers, or even the first nations that
preceded them.

Our destination was a remote marina, Toba Wildernest Resort, where
Pryce Channel, Homfray Channel, Waddington Channel, and Toba Inlet
converge. (At the dock, our GPS read 50.19.479 N, 124.47.71 W). A
booming, blinking, blasting and blaring "sell you a condo?" resort
would be preposterous here, but we would discover the Toba Wildernest
to be a low-key, rustic, and relaxed facility that enhanced, rather
than spoiled, one of our "perfect days" in Desolation Sound.

Toba Wildernest is well off the beaten path. No roads reach the
marina, and the only access is by boat or seaplane. Jan asked the
marina owner, Kyle Hunter, whether there were any neighbors in the
vicinity. "Do you mean year 'round? During the winter months, there
is a family with a fish farm that lives partway down Waddington
Channel. They are only a few miles off, and that makes them the
closest neighbors."

We arrived at Toba Wildernest early in the afternoon, and initially
were the only transient boat on the sun-bleached wooden float. We
hailed the marina on the VHF as we approached, but got no response.
(Kyle later concluded that he had probably been running a chain saw
when we called). Kyle met us at the dock positioned us at the extreme
end of the float to maximize available space. As the afternoon
matured, a half dozen additional boats straggled in to fill most of
the remaining space, but another boat or two could have been
accommodated with just a bit of additional shuffling. Overnight
moorage at Toba Wildernest is $1 per foot. There is an unlimited
supply of pure mountain stream water at the dock, but no shorepower.
A stainless steel fish gutting station and sink occupies one end of
the main float and reportedly sees frequent use.
Depths of over 100-feet are a modest cast away. "If you want to drop a
jig off the float you're likely to catch a bottom fish for dinner,"
said Kyle. "We have even had people catch salmon while standing on the
dock."

While going ashore at Toba Wildernest one immediately notices a few
indicators of the resort's general character. The gangway from the
float to the shoreline consists of two large logs, with a series of
planks nailed between them. The logs have just the slightest "spring"
underfoot. A hand painted sign welcomes boaters ashore. The path to
the office is lined with a canvas shaded porch swing, a casual table,
and a chunk of vengeful firewood wrapped entirely around the handle
of an axe. A wooden swing rigged with bright yellow poly rope dangles
from a timber nailed between two trees.

Facilities ashore are basic. The marina office sells blocks of ice,
and keeps a few groceries. Items available for sale are listed and
priced on a chalkboard, and as each runs out it is crossed off the
list until the next boatload of supplies arrives at Toba Wildernest. A
fastidiously clean restroom and shower accommodate visiting boaters,
with lights and hot water provided by a stream-driven electric
turbine. Toba Wildernest includes a group of rustic cabins available
for vacation and holiday rental, and all appeared occupied during our
visit.

Beyond lazing around the boat, kayaking in the cove, sampling the ice
cream bars, testing the swings, doing some reading, writing, resting,
and possibly even some casual fishing, recreational options at Toba
Wildernest include a very memorable hike up to the base of a nearby
waterfall. The 25-30 minute trek is more demanding than just a casual
walk, so some serious shoes (no flip-flops) and a moderate level of
physical fitness will prove useful.

The trail to the waterfall begins as a wide path at the marina office.
The path crosses a short bridge across a rocky creek bed, just up from
the mouth of the stream. As the driest weeks of summer drew to a
close, there was still a spirited flow beneath the bridge. The width
of the streambed and the expanse of barren rocks foster the
impression that during the rainy months there is a rampaging torrent
here. The first left-hand fork in the trail leads to a service area
for Toba Wildernest and is closed to the public. Setting off up the
second left-hand fork will begin a continuous climb to the waterfalls
above the marina. The trail is well marked and has been heavily
traveled, but roots, stones, and uneven footing in places require a
modicum of deliberation traveling to or from the falls.

While huffing and puffing up the steep trail, there are a number of
excellent opportunities to stop and examine aspects of the Toba
Wildernest's water supply system. A plastic pipe carries water from
near the base of the falls to a large, steel tank perhaps 1/3 of the
way from the summit of the trail. Another plastic pipe carries water
from the tank to Toba Wildernest, and the overflow spills away to
rejoin the stream surging through an adjacent ravine. I was grateful
for the interesting study in engineering, as it provided a dignified
excuse for slowing the pace a bit and recovering my breath. Near the
top of the trail, there is a wrecked cement mixer corroding away in
the bushes! (I was later told that it was hauled up there with
pulleys and cables, not packed in by hand).

A second bridge, far more dramatic than the short span across the
mouth of the creek, traverses the stream along the trail to the
falls. Two tree trunks were felled across the boulder strewn creek
bed, and joined by a series of cross ties. While the cross braces are
about 8 feet wide, only a 2-foot wide section has been planked to
create a walkway. All of the foot boards were once covered with
roofing shingles to provide traction, and in most places quite a bit
of this covering is still in place. Some of the planks appear
extremely worn, but none seemed actually rotten. A handrail fashioned
from 1 x 4's prevents hikers from tumbling off the single-file bridge
decking into the rocky tumult 10-15 feet below.

As the climb continues, the sound of falling water becomes
increasingly louder; a windy spray and splashing sound that
harmonizes perfectly with the gurgling shush of swirling rivulets
tumbling past the rocks, the logs, and over the short ledges in the
stream.

Near the base of the falls, two sections of the trail would be almost
impassable except for the presence of some strategically placed
climbing ropes. The first rope assists hikers in scrambling up a
vertical stack of roots, with just a few very tenuous footholds. Jan
often leads our hikes while I trail along behind making mental notes
and taking pictures. She had started up the first rope when a
suspicious thought occurred to her. "I assume you're not back there
even thinking about taking my picture from that particular angle, are
you?"

I shoved my camera back into the bag very quickly. "Oh no, dear. Of
course not. I mean, I wouldn't think of it. But this rope climb has
pretty good story value, so what do you say you stop about halfway up
the rope and I'll see if I can find an even more flattering
perspective from which I might get a photo?" So she did. (Jan is such
a good sport).

The second rope climb is longer, and slightly trickier than the first
as it crosses a curving expanse of barren rock where the footholds are
nothing more than fissures, cracks, and wrinkles along the surface. On
a rainy day, the second rope climb is probably quite slippery. On a
dry day, one is still keenly aware that a personally untested
climbing rope is the only variable between a safe arrival at the
falls and falling down the rock to possibly serious injury.

The waterfall above Toba Wildernest is high, very vertical, and
dramatic. If the waterfall were a musical instrument, it would be a
bagpipe. Against a steady and perpetually droning cascade, random
shots of crisp white water break loose and leap from an upper ledge.
The globs soar into space and break into groups of drops. Notes
against tone are as water on stone- and the exuberant, airborne
non-conformists fall independently for a few seconds and then
disappear into the mainstream with a soft percussive tap on the naked
parapet below. The August flow gathers in deep, clear, cauldrons
among the basalt escarpments nearby, as though the water needs to
catch a breath after the free fall and before plunging into the rocky
channel to complete the last leg of a journey to the sea. The
successive pools are gold, and grey, and green. A fawn colored log is
tossed across one corner of the lowest pool, where it waits for the
next high water to flush it farther along the stream. During these
low water months, sightseers at the falls often venture out onto the
same steep, slippery crags that will be overwhelmed by a spring
surge. The visitors erect small cairns of stones to commemorate their
odysseys.

When the rains come and the waters rise, the feeble cairns raised by
the last summers' visitors will be swept aside by the raging,
renewing, torrents. Perhaps the rise and fall of these temporary
cairns illustrate a principle that allows Toba Wildernest to remain a
special place, where visiting boaters can find some genuine
hospitality but where each summer begins anew, afresh, and
delightfully unspoiled.

If you make it to Lund check out the bakery. We've chartered several
times in Desolation Sound. You could spend a life time there and not
see it all. We usually go the week after Labor Day always had very good
weather but you pays your money and take your chances weather wise in
the area. We'll probably do it again next year. Jim

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