Submitted by Guest, Shirley Dickard
In the still-dark early morning, the ship’s generator turns on; its gentle hum infuses the night’s silence. My senses rouse; coffee will be soon. End of the narrow hallway, a series of long, involved ka-thushs emanate from the shared washroom. I wait my turn. Low murmurs from the communal sitting area as fellow travelers settle into cushions and chairs, fingers wrapped around steaming mugs of coffee, spoons clinking in bowls of fruit and yogurt.
I pondered how I could be any more present on this Great Bear Rainforest trip; how to preserve the ever-unfolding sights and scenes that surrounded me? Photographs would help, of course.
But recalling the sounds and silence turned out to be just as powerful: water dripping from oars, then the quiet when the zodiac motor was cut.
Salmon splashing in spurts to make another few feet upstream. Mute petroglyphs. Grizzly bear slipping into the water, silently swimming toward our zodiac. The deep whoosh from the blowholes of passing Humpbacks.
Hollow crunching as Spirit Bear devours a salmon head. The sudden silence as the skipper cuts the motor, signaling us to come upstairs and look! Calls of Raven, Eagle fill the air with their stories. All small moments that now deeply anchor this trip in my memory.
