Issue link: https://bluemagazine.uberflip.com/i/25040
h Halfway through the trip, the terrain becomes less familiar and Mike uses a hand-held Global Positioning System (GPS) to confirm the Cessna's position on the topographic map. We are passing west of Whistler and Blackcomb Mountains, home to Canadian snowboarder Ross Rebagliatti, 1998 Olympic gold medal winner. It is amazing how many mountains so close to the coast have even more challenging terrain and untouched powder than Whistler/Blackcomb. I mark a few promising and remote mountains that have yet to be descended, hoping that next winter one of the heliboarding operators near Whistler can get me this far north. Across the map, names reflect the history of the 430-mile Raincoast. Namu Village, the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and Prince Royal Island. First Nation tribes lived on this land, followed by Spanish and English explorers who came by sea to discover this wet and craggy coast. In a few hours we will be sailing to areas that have been seen by few people other than conservationists who are trying to save them, loggers who are trying to cut them and the peoples who have lived there for years. Judging by the way Moore is eyeing the fuel gauge, he is anxious to find our destination, the Maple Leaf, a 90-foot ecotour schooner that takes people on guided trips of Alaska and British Columbia. Brian Falconer, the ship's captain and former seaplane pilot, has made the Maple Leaf available to the press, Be's chapter of the Sierra Legal Defense Fund, the Raincoast Conservation Society and Greenpeace campaigners to monitor the rainforest. Mike decides to refuel in Bella Bella but suggests that no one reveal that we are observing the rainforest. Fueling docks have refused to service LightHawk planes in the past, because the local economy depends on the logging industry and to a lesser extent the sport fishing industry. The seaplane lifts back to the sky and 45 minutes later is circling the Maple Leaf on James Bay, hidden between 3,000-foot peaks meeting a deep blue fjord near Pooley Island. An inflatable outboard-powered Zodiac ferries us to the schooner. Immediately the crew discusses their concern of entering our destined lagoon where the tidal flow is so extreme that a whitewater rapid forms at the mouth of the inlet. Captain Falconer decides to pull anchor, as the inlet is navigable only at high tide. We sail on the seemingly placid water towards the remote Green River Inlet. "It's more challenging than it appears," says Captain Falconer as he steers the wooden ship through Prince Royal Channel. "Glacial activity from the last ice age tore GOO-foot-deep channels that rise suddenly to a shallow 50 feet." He explains that the underwater cliffs are due to the remnants of a terminal moraine, which results in strong tidal currents, tricky sailing and tough anchoring. At dusk the mouth of the inlet is still unnavigable. During the night, Captain Falconer and Ian McAllister a 29-year-old conservationist, author, photographer and co founder of the Raincoast Conservation Society, run the Zodiacs through the rapids so that we can continue into the valley the following morning. Home of the spirit bear "This story is about the salmon," says McAllister. "The remaining 100 or so pristine river valleys in Great Bear Rainforest are home to more than 1 ,000 distinct races of Pacific salmon, half of which are at high risk." He explains habitats for the grizzly, black bear and rare spirit bear (a naturally occurring white- 27