Discovering the Ghost Town of Butedale
August 20th, 2025—and we’re still making our way north on the Great Siberian Sushi Run.
The plan is to winter somewhere in northern British Columbia or Alaska before continuing west toward Japan. But we’re not in a rush, and that’s how we ended up somewhere we almost skipped entirely… Butedale.
We’d heard it was a privately owned ghost town, and without permission from the owner, Sean, we figured it was best to stay away. But as we slowly nosed our way in, taking in the waterfall and spotting a solid-looking dock, everything changed.
A fisherman named Werner from Kitimat waved us in.
“Go ahead and tie up,” he said. “I know Sean—you’re fine.”
That was all we needed.
We set the lines, dropped the fenders, and tied Tangaroa up to a dock that looked surprisingly new. From what we’ve heard, the whole place is currently for sale… which somehow made it even more intriguing.
A Town Built on Industry—and Isolation
Butedale was founded in 1911 as a salmon cannery. At its peak, over 400 people lived and worked here during the summer months. It was a full company town—bunkhouses, a cookhouse, reduction plant, powerhouse, even a customs office.
Because of its remote location, everything had to be done on site. If something broke, you fixed it. No calling in help.
The place ran for decades, changing hands between companies, until it eventually shut down. Today, it sits mostly abandoned—quiet, weathered, and slowly being reclaimed by the coast.
And right beside it all is Butedale Falls… loud, powerful, and still very much alive.
Dock Talk and a Small World
We stayed tied up overnight. It was drizzling, calm, and quiet—until another sailboat pulled in.
They had written permission from Sean to be there, which reminded me… maybe we should ask properly too.
After a bit of digging, I found Sean’s contact info through the No Foreign Land app and sent him a message. He replied, gave us permission to stay, and even shared more details about the property being for sale.
That night, we met Neil and Izzy from Blue Zulu. They had just come from Japan and were heading south toward the Panama Canal—on a tight timeline.
We spent the evening on our aft deck, out of the rain, trading stories and asking every question we could think of about Japan. The next morning, we had coffee aboard their boat before they headed off.
Always amazing how small the boating world feels.
Exploring Butedale
The next day, we went ashore with Maggie and set out to explore.
Right away, we found an old building—falling apart, but still accessible. Inside, somehow, was a full bowling setup. A ball. Ten pins.
Naturally, we had to try it.
On uneven wooden planks, in the middle of an abandoned cannery, Blaine managed to throw a strike. I’m still not over it.
From there, we wandered through what looked like an old machine shop and various pieces of equipment. Without knowing exactly how a cannery operates, we were left guessing—but that’s part of the fun.
The Hike to Butedale Lake
We followed an old road inland and decided to hike up to Butedale Lake.
It was muddy. Really muddy.
Good thing we had rubber boots.
We ended up following a creek bed all the way up to a dam that once fed the powerhouse below. From the top, we realized something interesting—the creek we followed wasn’t the one feeding the falls.
So up went the drone.
From above, we could see the larger creek, the falls, and even a log boom still sitting in the lake—logs left behind when the operation shut down, never making it to market.
The Way Back Down
The hike down was easier, though we stayed alert. No signs of bears, no noise from Maggie—always a good sign.
The trail looped us back behind a couple of houses. There used to be a caretaker here, but not anymore. One of the buildings looked like a generator house, but it sat across the creek, out of reach.
As we made our way back toward Tangaroa, we spotted something that made us laugh—a helicopter pad.
Blaine had just been wondering how people got in to view the property.
Now we knew.
Time to Move On
Butedale wasn’t on our original plan. In fact, we almost didn’t stop at all.
But it turned into one of those places that sticks with you.
A mix of history, isolation, and just enough mystery to make you wonder what it must have been like when it was alive.
We cast off later that day and continued north.
Another stop behind us… and plenty more ahead.
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Thanks for reading
Blaine and Janis