198 CHALLENGER 



bay at Port Simpson, and Challenger's Captain heard that Sam 

 Bennett, an old Indian, who had acted as a local pilot in the 

 Egeria, was still living at Port Simpson. With the Minister's help 

 a meeting was arranged in old Sam's wooden house by the shore. 

 Sam Bennett had been blind for many years, but he remembered 

 the happenings in the old days in Egeria and described them as 

 if they had occurred yesterday. He told his visitors where to find 

 his Bible and guided them to an old ship's company photograph 

 still between the pages. There was Captain Learmonth, the officers 

 grouped around him in their old-fashioned small-topped uniform 

 caps, the men ranged behind them. The inevitable small dog lay 

 on the deck in front of the group, and at one side proudly stood 

 Sam Bennett, the local pilot. 



Things have changed little in many ways in the routine of a 

 surveyor's day. Sam described the early start in the mornings, 

 the boats going off from the ship in all directions, the climbs 

 through the woods, the clearing of the hilltops, the erection of 

 flags and the long hours spent around the theodolites. In those 

 days, as now, the ship's doctor found time heavy on his hands 

 as the fit men manned the boats or climbed the hills, and Sam 

 Bennett told how he had taken the Medical Officer deer-hunting. 

 He described how he had led him unerringly to a fine coast deer, 

 the breathless minute as the doctor took aim, and how he had 

 skinned and carved up the deer, packing it in its own skin and 

 carrying it onboard on his back. 



Coming south from Port Simpson the ship travelled down the 

 long fjord-like passage between Vancouver Island and the main- 

 land, which at its narrowest part passes through Seymour Nar- 

 rows. These are made more hazardous by having a dangerous 

 submerged rock in the channel and strong tidal streams swirling 

 past it. A vessel of Challenger' s modest power must wait for slack 

 water to make this passage between the hidden rock and the 

 steep snow-clad mountainside. 



Whilst navigating the inner route the ship spent a night at Alert 

 Bay, a trading port on one of the small islands lying in the channel ; 

 a fine forest of Indian totem poles and a processing works for 

 turning herrings into fertiliser are the two most memorable 

 features of this little place. There was also, of course, a beer 



