Looking For Signs of Deer

November 2020 (Part Three)

 

Between our hunting trips we were back at work, and during the middle of November we had the highest tide that anyone in Ocean Falls could remember seeing.  The very high tide was accentuated by a storm surge.  As storm-force winds pummelled the outer coast, water was pushed inwards up the inlets.  In Ocean Falls it added about four feet to the top of the already high 18-foot tide. Water pushed up Martin River and flooded people’s front yards, and the particular area where the yacht club’s dock ramp is secured to land was under a foot or more of water.  Old moss-covered boards floated away from the area of the old sawmill as the water touched the bottom of the crumbling docks.  It was quite impressive to see!

 

Since our first hunting trip, Ken had been back out to the same area and stayed in the wall-tent with his son who was visiting. Unfortunately, they also did not see any deer, and they happened to be camped out during a very strong windstorm. The tent, perched on its scenic and sunny plateau, had little protection from the wind, and as the tent bounced and shook in the wind Ken and his son had a sleepless night.  The next morning they took down the tent.  They had not seen any deer, so we decided to check out a different area during our next week off.  The crew-change plane was delayed a day due to strong winds and rain, but when it arrived on Wednesday the 18th, Jason and I got off work.  

Wednesday was a beautifully calm day, perfect for heading up the Dean Channel.  We loaded the two quads and the tent into Ken’s skiff, optimistic that we would see some sign of deer at Fog Creek, with the plan to leave the tent there to come out and camp for the next few days.  We planed our way up Dean Channel over glassy water, and on the rising tide we were able to nose in onto the rocky bank, drop Ken’s ramp and drive the quads up onto shore.  

 

I stayed with the skiff, and floated in the middle of Dean Channel completely alone except for the company of a seagull and a passing seal.  

Jason and Ken headed up the old logging road equipped with a chainsaw each.  It wasn’t long before I heard the faint sound of a saw, as they had come to their first obstruction.  They ended up making their way through several obstructions of fallen trees, and made it up and into the snow for a couple of kilometers.  They went almost right to the end of the logging road, but sadly, they did not see a single sign of life, not a deer track, no buck rub, no wolf tracks or poo, no grouse, not even a marten.  Nothing.  They came back down to the water, and when I saw them coming I started up the engine and headed in.  I expected good news, but when they told me that we were taking the quads and leaving, I knew they had seen nothing.  Luckily, although the tide was now on its way out, it was still high enough to get the quads back onto the skiff.  We loaded up and headed back home over the still glassy water of Dean Channel.  

During our last work shift, Ken and his son had checked out another area called Four Lakes, and they had also seen no signs of deer there.  So, since it seemed that the only area that we were at least seeing some sign of deer was Clatse Lake, we decided to drop the tent back off on shore, and come out once again to camp in that area.