Chemainus Lake

Returning from a trip to the Cowichan Valley in January for some misty morning photography, I stopped to check out Chemainus Lake. The last time I had been there was years earlier, and it had, at that time, felt sad and overused. This time, however, I found a new robust dock, excellent roadway, and fresh gravel at the put-in. I thought, "Time to bring the canoe."

So, on the last day of March, I got up early, canoe already on the roof, and head south. I arrived while it was still dark, put the canoe in the water and set out onto the little lake amid a rising mist and almost total silence.

I paddled around in the cold pre-dawn light, watching the mist swirl and listening to the birds waking up and becoming active. That time of day, on a small body of water, is perhaps the best time of all. The feeling of positive aloneness (sabi) and the feeling of connection to the natural world work to create a rich sense of contentment and hushed awe.

I drifted around, watching the sun slowly rise, painting the tree tops first, with it's golden glow, then eventually the mist, which became thicker with the change in temperature.

I surrendered to the beauty, feeling the cares of the week drifting away amid the mist. There is something about this kind of beauty, the majesty of it, the power of it, that creates an especially receptive mind. I thought about work, relationships, harmony and discord. A wetland is a place that mirrors these qualities. So much life, and with it, so much death.

I experimented with my new camera and the even newer vintage Pentax 28mm lens. It is always difficult to capture the scale of a place like this. Chemainus Lake is small, but also packed with endless views, sights, and details. There are so many nooks and gaps in a wetland and in fact this little lake has channels between the main lake and the shore, bands of water that curve around behind reed banks and a beaver store.

Then, the sun broke over the trees and the morning began in earnest. This always causes me a bit of excitement, the golden hour has begun! I race to get photos, everywhere I look a new subject, a new breath-taking image.

The first shots were of the reed banks, as the light broke across them. I paddled to two spots of the lake to get different perspectives.

As I did, the nesting geese started honking, and within minutes a flock of new geese arrived.

In the reeds, marsh wrens and song sparrows started to mill about, joined by red-wing blackbirds going from perch to perch and back again. The morning chorus, or racket, had begun.

Song Sparrow

Male Redwing Blackbird

Female Redwing Blackbird

Resident Nesting Canadian Goose

About that time, a paddling fly angler joined us on the water. I was off in a corner with my long lens, trying to get portraits of some of the smaller residents, but I snapped one of this young fellow. We humans tend to dominate the landscape, with our impressive tools, including tackle and vessel.

Young Male Human

Another angler arrived on the dock, so I headed down to the far end of the lake. Along the way I marveled at the beauty of this little spot. The shoreline from the water is truly stunning.

As more humans came onto the water the non-resident geese took flight to the air, and I retreated further into the reeds.

Canadian Geese Take Flight

My Hideout Amid the Reeds

In a shady corner I took out my other new vintage lens, the Revuenon 55mm 1.2. This bokeh master lens creates unique artistic renditions that, in some ways, capture a place better than razor sharpness ever can.

Revuenon 55mm 1.2 - #1

By that time, there were anglers arriving every few minutes. I waited against the reeds near the dock as two young fellows in kayaks, a woman in a float tube, and two older guys in a tinner made there way out. I took a photo of the men with kids on the dock. "Can I touch it?" came the call of one child as a fish was held out flopping for inspection. The curiosity and excitement in the kid's voices was a welcomed sound.

Men and Boys Enjoy the Sturdy Functional Attractive Dock

I was glad that these folks would enjoy their time, AND was also glad I was leaving. I packed up while another fellow prepared to head onto the water in a pontoon boat. I would be back to take more photos on this fantastic jewel of a lake on this special island.

Blackwater Lake

Vancouver Island Backroad Mapbook 4th edition - Map 39 G3
Atlas of Canada Link:Blackwater Lake
Latitude and Longitude: 50° 11' 2" N 125° 35' 9" W
Decimal Degrees: 50.184° N 125.586° W
UTM Coordinates: 10U 315386 5562301
Topographic Map Sheet Number: 092K04

Trip Date: July 1st, 2010

Blackwater Lake is a long narrow, somewhat winding, lake with a range of shoreline features including reed and sedge filled bays, rocky points, and an interesting estuary at the south end of the lake where the water from Amor lake flows in via a short creek.

Paul and I  arrived mid-morning after camping for two nights on Mohun Lake. The steep path down to the water was somewhat off-putting but we decided it would be worth it. The little beach where you put the canoes in  was sandy and clean with a view to the southerly stretch of the lake.

We paddled south, the wind for the most part at our backs, and Paul was dive-bombed by a defensive gull who apparently thought he was getting too close to her nest. We stayed to the western shore and when Paul pointed out that I was paddling past a beaver lodge I looked at the lodge and into the water and saw large plumes of mud stirred up below my canoe. We did not, however, ever see the beaver, so I'm not sure where she surfaced.



Along the shoreline of the wide curve of the southern estuary we noticed that small cones had collected in hollows in the silt along with what at first looked like deer droppings. Upon further observation I believe they were actually pieces of the peat-like material that formed a mat higher up on the beach. The pieces of compacted soil had been rounded by wave action and jostling with the cones and together they had uncovered the colourful sand below. Fresh water clams were secured in several of the indentations.

We tentatively ventured onto the delta of the estuary at the end of the lake and gingerly walked around taking photos. The ground was muddy and appeared to have recently been underwater.

 I took multiple shots of the inflow to stitch together later with Photoshop.

The drop in water left some lillies to flower without boyancy.

We paddled back along the eastern shore and eventually spotted two fluffy balls of feathers that turned out to be ambulatory gull chicks with black spots all over their heads. The call of the mother was unlike most gull's I had heard, and the distinctive colouration of the chick's heads made me confident I would be able to identify them at home. It has not proved easy. The chicks were near a cliff face, hinting that they may have been Glaucous-Winged gulls. The raptor-like call also suggested this. In memory the parent's seemed mostly white and smaller with greater wing to body capacity that Herring or California gulls, leading me to wonder if they might have been Bonaparte's Gull, but I think I would have noticed the black head.

Passing the put-in we ventured down stream towards Farewell Lake. On the way we investigated an abandoned canoe.

Abandoned canoe
water line higher
on the inside

The outflow wound around a bit, then presented us with a large log jam. Paul got out to look beyond the jam, but there was another one only a few hundred yards downstream. We decided to head back upstream.

It had threatened rain for most of our paddle, and the wind had been strong at times, but as we made our way back towards the put-in, blue sky took the place of the clouds. Climbing back up to our vehicle we shed sweaters and shirts.

I was able to take some shots for a high dynamic range photos which captured well the quality of this beautiful Sayward Forest lake.