Kayaking the Inside Passage from Seattle to Haines in 2010

Monthly archives for June, 2010

Back Inside

Jun28
2010 2 Comments Written by Doug

We left Port Hardy on Thursday to cross Queen Charlotte Strait and start heading up around Cape Caution. Cape Caution is aptly named because everyone we have met or talked to about our trip who knows the Inside Passage has asked how we were going to get past the open water around Cape Caution, and cautioned us about the dangerous seas in stormy weather.

We crossed Queen Charlotte Strait on Thursday and landed in Secure Bay. On Friday we paddled against a light wind to Skull Cove. And on Saturday we paddled and sailed 32 miles around Cape Caution and landed in Rivers Inlet.

The weather around the Cape was probably as good as it could be, 20 knots of wind and 3 foot swells. The shoreline is amazing! It is beat into submission by massive waves most of the year. There are incredible rock shores, with trees and vegetation blown into crazy twisted sculptures. We were told the original Egg Island lighthouse, located about six miles north of the Cape, was washed away by a wave. It sat 75 feet above sea level! It was really cool to see that part of the shoreline, and really nice to get it behind us.

The winds continued to help us out, but we got a late start on Sunday and decided to call the Addenbroke Lighthouse on the VHF to see if there was a place to camp on their grounds.

What a great idea! Dennis, the lighthouse keeper, is an amazingly generous and nice guy. He pulled our kayaks up on his dock with a crane,

gave us a room to sleep in, and has been feeding us all kinds of delicious food. His stories from 25 years as a lighthouse keeper, and raising three girls on the island, have kept us entertained while we stand out on the deck and watch an endless parade of humpback whales feeding, breaching, and slapping the water. What an amazing place to spend a day! But we are going to force ourselves to leave tomorrow morning and continue on to Bella Bella, which should only be 4 or so days away.

Posted in Trip Log

Moving On

Jun22
2010 Leave a Comment Written by Doug
We are leaving Port McNeill this morning. We may stop in Port Hardy tomorrow as we wait for favorable winds for the next few days to get us across the Queen Charlotte Strait and around Cape Caution, but our next planned stop is Bella Bella 165 miles away. We bought $300 worth of food, much of it we are hoping will last until we get to Prince Rupert, 370 miles north of here. There are a number of resorts and semi-abandoned communities along the way, but no other real towns with phones and Internet. There will, however, be a lot of fisherman, sailors, and cruisers on mega yachts, based on the traffic we have seen heading North.
After the NW gales on Johnstone Strait we feel like our fate is pretty much up to the wind gods. We’ll just have to take what we get. We may get stuck for days waiting for a change in the winds, or we may be able to paddle straight through. It should take somewhere between 10 and 16 days to get to Bella Bella.
We haven’t been posting videos because the mini-laptop we are carrying doesn’t have enough power to view and edit high definition videos, but I uploaded one to YouTube so people can see what it is like sailing against the wind. This is a short clip I took while beating across Johnstone Strait south of Telegraph Cove. It was a beautiful day, but it would have been more fun sailing if we weren’t trying to get somewhere for the night.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ESVgYc2kCNs]

Posted in Trip Log

A Long Couple Weeks

Jun21
2010 4 Comments Written by Doug

We’ve made it to Port McNeill!! It’s been a long two weeks of gail force head winds that have left us days behind schedual and exhausted.

Random Pictures

cooking over driftwood fires saves precious fuel

Rusty relics of logging

The owner of Spirit of the West kayak adventures invited us to stay at his beautiful camp that was probably the coolest place we’ve stayed so far with an artistically rustic hot water shower overlooking beautiful ocean views and tents perched on cliffs above the sea.  We were woken in the late evening to a whale feeding just off the shore not 100 feet from our tent.  They also had the most picturesque wood fire hot tub, that unfortunately was not set up for the season yet…

   Doug is getting skinnier and his hands are freakishly tan, we both are looking ever more alien by the day…

Port Neville and the Deer Stalker

We spent three weather days huddled in Port Neville trying to get out of the wind. It was a beautiful setting, a homestead plopped in the middle of nowhere with an old store and giant manicured lawn. Although the amenities of store and post office had been shut down last year due to an aging owner that had to move back to town the lawn was recently cut and made for an ideal campsite. In the mornings we sat on the old store porch looking out over the water and mountains, with coffee in hand we would watch the sun rise in the sky and talk about how it wouldn’t be so bad to live in a place like this.

One morning we were making coffee and I looked up and saw a deer chasing the caretaker’s cat up a tree. It stood looking up at the branches while it pranced around the tree. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it and chalked it up to a coffee deprived morning hallucination. But as we walked around the porch the deer got site of lil’ bit and began to stalk him. I scooped lil’ bit up and the deer would lose interest, but as soon as I set him down the deer would come charging from across the lawn and stop about five feet from us looking with curiousity at lil’ bit, sniffing the air cocking it’s head, shifting it’s ears, blinking giant black eyes. Lil’ bit wasn’t sure whether to bark or whine and decided eventually just to sit in ambivialence and ignore the deer…untill it started to run, then his predetory instincts kicked in and before we could stop him he started the chase. The deer ran halfway around the yard before turning to face lil’ bit, the bravado seeped out of our little dog and he cowered, began to yip in increasingly higher octaves and turned tail to run with the deer in hot persuit. He ran back to us and the deer pranced around within arms reach for a few minutes before baiting lil’ bit back out by bounding just far enough away to incite the chase. Maybe it was playing? Maybe it thought lil’ bit was a rogue fawn that needed to be corralled? But after a morning of it we tied lil’ bit up and resigned ourselves to having a deer stalker that occasionally circled us curiously at an uncomfortably close distance.

Easy Rider Kayaks

I talked with my mom the other day and she said, “you know dad’s old kayak was an easy rider.” it’s strange how things come around. I remember my dad teaching me as a kid how to wet exit in that boat. We went down to the local gravel pit in the middle of a hot Fairbanks summer. He waded into the water waist deep with me and the kayak in tow. “Ok on three I’ll flip you, ready?” he’d say. I remeber the water being a shock but also how suprisingly easy it was to pull the skirt, exit the kayak, and pop back to the surface. My dad has had that boat ever since I can remember. He must have bought it in the 70’s. Easy Rider kayaks is a relatively small operation whose owner personally took the time to go over our boats (which we bought used on craigslist) before we left on this trip. It is a fitting, sentimental coincidence that the boat that I learned how to kayak in was the same small brand as the ones we are now piloting up the inside passage.

Stupid C
urrent

Today is a current day. We are in an exceptionally narrow passage way right now that in order for the ocean to squeeze it’s voluptuous mass through it must rush at astounding rates of speed, creating currents that make you feel as if you are on the world’s largest treadmill. Yesterday we paddled…and paddled, pushing against the current with all our strength, but little paddles and mere human muscle are no match against the sea. So today we will wait untill the sea is on our side and try to outrun the daylight.

Lil’ Bit and the Hobo Boat

Lil’ bit is sleeping in a ball at my feet. He likes the tent. He especially likes my sleeping bag. As soon as I take my sleeping bag out of it’s stuff sack lil’ bit instantaneously is there prodding it’s surface for the most comfortable spot. I have to lift him off to get in the bag myself and he puts up a fight of passive resistance, relaxing to complete jelly so it takes two hands to move him and as soon as I set him down, before I even have time to get a leg in he is back on my bed prodding it’s surface indignantly. He is not so fond of the kayak. He puts up with it but always looks a little anxious when we are out on the water. I have been trying to think of ways to make the experience more comfortable for him and had an epiphany when I saw a milk crate washed-up on shore. I tied this to the front of my kayak, broke out one end as a dog door and padded the bottom with fleece. I figured this is how he loved riding on my bicycle so maybe it would feel more familiar and secure. I stepped back to look at my boat. It had bags tied on the stern, a pile of junk on the outrigger, an overflowing deckbag, small items carabined to every open spot on deck, and now a faded half broken milk crate lashed to the front…it looked like a boat owned by a hobo. But lil’ bit seems more comfortable and if passing yachts think I’m a hobo maybe they will take pity and cook us eggs (the food I would sell half my soul for right now).

The wiener dog that can miraculously climb trees when chasing squirrels

On Hygiene

After over a week without showering, I tried to freshen up with spruce bows this morning and scratched the begeesus out of my armpits.

Posted in Trip Log

Powell River to Port McNeill

Jun21
2010 Leave a Comment Written by Doug
We didn’t get out of Powell River until almost 2 PM. Two of Zach’s friends, Yannick and Shirley, have been paddling down from Juneau in a double kayak, and they landed at the Powell River Marina in the morning. It was great to meet them and hear stories of their trip. Their experience isn’t directly relatable to ours–they appear to be made out of some sort of super-human material, and have some amazing luck with the weather. They have made it from Juneau to Powell River in around 60 days! When they reach the end of their kayak trip, they are going to pick up packs and hike down the Pacific Crest trail (a crazy hard feat on its own). When they make it to the Mexican Border, they are going to pick up their bicycles and bike to the tip of South America. Katey and I are on vacation. We just want to spend the Summer exploring the Inside Passage. A lot or people have said we are crazy, but I think Yannick and Shirley are crazy!

It would have been nice to hang out for the day and talk more, but we eventually had to load up and move on. We already took a day off in Powell River, and there wasn’t a whole lot more to do there. We started paddling around 2 PM. Our plan was to paddle to a campground just South of Lund, then stop in at the bakery in Lund for coffee and treats the next morning. As we paddled away, Lil’ Bit kept whining, wondering why Zach wasn’t coming, but Zach’s vacation was over and he was flying back to Anchorage.

The water was amazing. As we paddled, the clouds, mountains, and water blended together. The sky was a dull nickel, but on the water it turned to bright polished chrome in the West, and a perfect black mirror to the East, absorbing  the dark fir and cedar trees on shore, with Katey paddling in perfect time to her rippled reflection. It’s really crazy how beautiful even small changes can be as the mountains and ridge lines slowly rotate around each other with our progress.



When we got to the campground we didn’t like the rocky pull-out with the level of the tide, so we kept going toward Lund. We ended up paddling into the Marina and spending the night, then getting our coffee and cinnamon roll before heading out the next day. From Lund we planned to get up to Lewis Channel, out of the Strait of Georgia, and into Desolation Sound. We had a good day of paddling and sailing, and covered around 19 miles. We ended up at the perfect campsite, on a small rock sticking out into the channel. Across the channel was Cliff Mountain. As we landed a deer stood on the only tent site. It was a perfect rock ledge above the water. It would have been nice to land a little earlier, so we could have had a campfire and enjoyed the evening, but we landed just a short time before dark. By the time we had camp setup and dinner made it was time to go to bed.

We have now officially entered bear (and cougar) country. We haven’t see any bears yet, or even any bear sign, but we have had to change over to bear country camping, where all food and our kitchen is kept at a distance from our tent, and we have to hang our food that isn’t in bear canisters. We are carrying four bear canisters! We hoped to fit all our food in these canisters, and just leave them on the ground away from camp, but we apparently don’t have our meal planning down yet. After our grocery stop in Powell River, we ended up with two food bags in addition to our bear canisters! We are determined to eat everything we can between here and Port McNeill, and try to get the amount of food we have to move each day to a manageable level. Hanging big bags of food each night is a pain!

Being in bear country also means we are getting into the wilderness. It is mesmerizing to paddle along the shore, looking up at rock cliffs several hundred feet high, with cedar trees 3 and 4 feet in diameter growing out of cracks and seams in the moss-covered stone. At night, it is easy to pretend that we are the only people on the planet when we’re cooking dinner on a rock with only seals and porpoises for company. There aren’t any roads or houses, just the occasional fishing boat, tug boat, sail boat, or trawler, and of course lots of loggers. Entire mountain sides can be cleared at one time. It seemed really sad, but then when we started going into the forest to camp and found stumps from the old growth cedars we realized we weren’t even seeing the natural wilderness in many places.



From Lewis Channel we paddled up to the back side of Stuart Island, where we could make the morning crossing of the Yuculta and Gillard Passage rapids at slack. That camp site was not so nice, but was necessary to make an easy paddle early in the morning. We setup our tent in a clearing at the end of a logging road. We got up at 5:30 AM so we could make it through the Yuculta Rapids. We made it there easily, arriving an hour early. We floated in front of a perfectly manicured and landscaped resort in the rain, looking up at the mountains, waiting for the change in current. At peak current, the rapids were flowing at 9 knots, creating large rips and supposedly an impressive whirlpool. As we started getting close to slack we headed down toward the rapids. We wanted to make sure we made it through before the flood tide started. We paddled past the small eddies and rips and made it into Big Bay, where we hoped to find a cafe or at least coffee. We found neither. The cafe and pub are no longer there. All we found was a store that opened at noon. They had a large covered deck though, so we were able to sit out at a table under a patio roof, and wait for the tide to change again so we could make it through Gillard and Dent Island rapids. Just sitting out of the rain, even though we were still outside in the cold, seemed almost decadent. We have a tarp we setup in camp when it rains, but we are usually squatting on bear canisters, or sitting on makeshift driftwood furniture. The four hours passed quickly.

When the time arrived, we got back in the boats and paddled through the next two sets of rapids. Our next stop was Channe Island, It was a beautiful evening. We made dinner on the rocks above the water, then crawled into our tent as it started to rain. We setup the tent in a  forest with huge trees. I expected it to be dark, but it was strangely light. When you first step into the forest here you don’t know what you will find. It can be an old Cedar forest, that is open and easy to walk through, with potential tent sites here and there, or it can be covered with dense undergrowth, salal, and wild roses. This forest was quiet and comfortable.

From Channe Island we tried to make it down to Greene Point Rapids, but the wind and current ganged up on us, and we had a rough day. We made just 8 miles. We missed the slack tide at Greene Point, so we camped just outside the rapids and decided to wait until late the next afternoon to go through at slack with the ebb tide. The plan worked great. We had a relaxing day lounging around in the sun.

We paddled through the rapids just before slack, hoping to get a big boost from the current,  but a push from the current didn’t show up, or was overshadowed by the strong headwind again, and we worked hard to make it down to the last campsite on our map before Whirlpool rapids  Although the day was tiring, the campsite turned out to be really nice. We stopped on a small sand beach and had enough time left in the day to cook over a fire. The sunset was crazy with colors, and the wind died down. We went to bed early so we could get up early and make Whirlpool rapids by 10:30 AM.



We got up at 5:00 AM. Or more accurately, I got up at 5:00 AM and dropped our food bags from the bear hang so I could make coffee, and Katey fell back to sleep for a few minutes. Finally we had enough wind from the right direction to sail, so we finished our coffee and breakfast, then put on our sails to head to Whirlpool rapids. It was a perfect morning. We were able to sail at 4 knots, and had a couple of knots of current to push us. We reached the rapids way early, but there weren’t any large eddies, waves, or whirlpools, so we went through pushed by the wind and the current as fast as 8 knots. The water was flat, but you could see the remainder of boils and rips from earlier. It was great. We made 6 miles in the first hour, and had all day to get to a campsite before predicted high winds showed up. The winds died down shortly after crossing the rapids, and we paddled throughout the morning.

We paddled to a small bay that we thought would make a good campsite to hole up, with the winds predicted to be 25 – 35 knots the next day from the exact direction we needed to go, but as we paddled into the bay we could hear and see that they were logging the hillside directly behind the bay. They left a strip of trees about 100 feet wide behind the beach, but were still cutting and hauling every scrap of wood from the remainder of the hill. It was annoying to find a beautiful sandy beach, the only campsite we could reach that day, and have to deal with the noise and sight of the logging operation, but we would have to deal with it. It was still early in the day, but we had gone around 18 miles. We setup our kitchen and tent, then sat under the tarp to watch the weather build. We were finally to Johnstone Strait, but would have to wait a while before being able to make progress.



The next day the winds were blowing as predicted, and the Strait was a thick wall of white water. We decided to move our camp across the bay to a small cove where we had a better beach for launching the boats the next day. The beach had receded about 300 yards to the middle of the bay at low tide. If the wind was going to be down we didn’t want to wait for high tide to launch our boats. The bay was protected from the Northwest winds, so it was easy to move the boats, and there was  a decent place for the tent on the new beach. This side of the bay was also being logged, but it wasn’t as noisy, and the logging didn’t go all the way down to our beach.

The next morning we got up at 6:00 AM. The winds were down, but they were supposed to build to 35 knots later in the day, still from the direction we needed to go, so we decided to connect the kayaks together with all four poles, and place the outriggers in the middle and try sailing. We thought it would be more stable in the higher winds and seas if they started to build before we found a place to camp. We got the boats together and loaded by 9:00 and set out, but the wind had picked up to over 20 by then. As we rounded the point and headed out, we could see the water was 3 to 4 feet with breaking waves, but we figured we would see if we could make some progress tacking through the wind. If it didn’t work we could easily turn around and sail back to our bay.

The boat was really stable going over and through the waves, but beating into the wind is no fun. We tacked out into Johnstone Strait, and realized it was going to be too rough to make progress. But by this point we didn’t want to go back to the beach we were on. We decided to try and make it around the next point to Port Neville, about 3.5 miles away. We sailed through waves that would sometimes wash over both decks of the boats. The larger waves would slow us almost to a stop, before we would start sailing again. The boats were perfectly stable, and we weren’t worried about flipping or breaking anything, but it was really slow, and wet. After close to two hours we finally tacked around the point in the bay that leads to Port Neville. We pulled into the Government Dock, and met Alex, the man who was caretaking the dock and grounds. We expected a small town or community, but it was only a dock with a store and two old homes. The store was shut down, and the homes were empty, but the grounds were beautiful. And we were allowed to setup our tent out of the wind in the yard.

We were glad this was such a beautiful place because there were gale force winds (30 – 40 knots) for the next two days. Each morning it would be relatively calm, but by 8:30 AM you could see the Strait turn into a wall of water racing past the entrance to Port Neville. A 45 foot trawler pulled in on Tuesday morning and told us they had winds to 40 knots and waves big enough to wash the decks when they busted through them. There was no option but to wait for the weather to change. We wandered around on the trails and picked giant salmon berries. It wasn’t too bad.



On Thursday, after 4 days of winds over 30 knots and no progress, the forecast was for 10 – 20 knots in the morning, building to 20 – 30 in the afternoon, still from the exact direction we needed to go. We decided to load up and leave as early as possible. We got up at day break, around 4:30 AM, packed the boats at the dock, and set out. The kayaks were still connected together. When we got out in the Strait the winds were 10 – 15 knots, but the water was still rolling from 4 days of rough weather. We tacked back and forth all morning, pushing against the wind. With the help of the current, we finally got a little closer to Port McNeill, and landed on the Broken Islands, around 11 miles away.

We camped on the largest island of the Broken Islands, which was still really small. There was a campsite in the trees behind a bay, and we had a perfect place to cook rice and beans on the beach over a small fire. After lunch we took the boats apart and put them back into singles. The boats were really stable when connected together, but the weight was really difficult to paddle, and with a headwind tacking back and forth up the Strait without paddling was painfully slow progress. We figured we could paddle sail the individual boats in the same conditions faster.



Before we went to bed we wandered around the island, trying to find a lookout where we could watch for whales. We were getting close to one of the most popular kayaking/whale watching areas, and we hoped to see some Orcas out in the Strait. Unfortunately, all we found on our hike was a creepy cave-like rock ledge filled with the bones of a bear. The bones had been there for a really long time, preserved in the dry sand below the ledge, but it looked as if every bone was still accounted for. It would have been a great jigsaw puzzle. It was a little strange to find such a large pile of bones on a small island, among the remains of giant cedar trees that had been cut down a century ago. But we didn’t think about it long. We went to bed and slept like the logs that were scattered around the island.



We got up the next morning and still had the northwest wind against us. This made 6 days of waiting for the wind to die, or trying to push against it. The forecast again was 10 – 20 knots, building to 20 – 30 knots in the afternoon, so we got up too early (4:30 AM) and tried to make progress. We tried sailing, paddling, and paddle-sailing, then decided that we just can’t make enough progress upwind with the sails on unless it is really blowing, even paddle-sailing. We took off the sail kits (while we were still out on the water) and just paddled to Boat Bay, our next stop. We could paddle against the lighter wind, directly where we wanted to go, at 3 knots, while we were only able to paddle-sail against the wind while tacking 45 degrees from our course, at 2 knots. It was definitely better to just paddle without the sail kits on when the wind was 20 knots or less. Once it gets over 20 we either need to sail and tack or get off the water. It is too hard to paddle against a 20 knot wind even without the sail kits.

Our stop in Boat Bay was hard to describe. When we were padding out of Whirlpool rapids toward Johnstone Strait we met some people from Spirit of the West Adventures, a kayak tour company. They were on their sailboat, working on their camps, and when they saw us paddle-sailing they motored over to check us out. They told us we should stop at their base camp in Boat Bay, right across from Robson Bight, the famous rubbing beach for Orca Whales. They said we could have a hot shower and stay in one of their tents. As we approached Boat Bay we saw their wood-fired hot tub on a rock overlooking Johnstone Strait, and we had to stop and check it out. Their camp was really nice. The view is incredible. The sky cleared to uncover the snow-capped mountains on Vancouver Island, and the sun and blue sky were stunning. But that was nothing compared to the shower. They have a driftwood-sided shower above the rocks with an instant hot water heater. I lit the pilot light and took my first hot shower in 13 days. Unfortunately the hot tub wasn’t hooked up, but if it had been we probably would have stayed in their camp until someone showed up and kicked us out.



We made a huge dinner then crawled into the tent to read and go to sleep, but not long before dark we were startled by the whooshing sound of a whale just off the shore. We jumped out of the tent to watch a humpback whale feeding along the kelp bed. In the absolute silence of the mountains and the strait, the blast of the whale’s exhale was surprisingly loud. Everyone keeps telling us we will see lots of whales, but watching this whale from the rocks in the sunset was pretty amazing. What a great place for a camp.



Reluctantly, we left Boat
Bay the next morning. We had around 24 miles to Port McNeill, but again we had headwinds in the forecast. We paddled north and made good progress until the winds started to blow when we stopped for lunch. We thought we would try to continue paddling against the wind, but after pushing for almost an hour we decided it was blowing too hard to make progress with paddles. We ducked behind a rock and put on our sail kits. We shortened the sails and decided to try and cross the strait and make it to Telegraph Cove. We were able to slowly beat into the wind with shortened sails. The waves were breaking but small (1 to 2 feet). We crossed the Strait and tacked back and forth against the wind and now against the current for two or three hours, but finally made it to Telegraph Cove. We thought it was just a boat launch and campsite, but it turned out to be a resort. We ended up tying the boats in the near empty marina and getting a cheeseburger and beer in the Pub. The burger was one of my all-time best burgers. We stuffed ourselves and went to sleep so we could get up the next day paddle the last 12 miles into Port McNeill.

The last day into Port McNeill was near perfect, except for a stabbing pain in Katey’s shoulder. We did have some current to fight, but we were able to crawl along the shore to avoid the worst of it. And the wind blew lightly in our face for a little while. but eventually the low clouds melted away and so did the wind. It ended up being what seemed like our first Summer day. The air was so clear you could see every detail in mountains 30 miles away.



When we tied up at the Port McNeill marina, we found everything we need to resupply for the next leg of our trip in easy walking distance. We decided to take the rest of the day off. We’ll buy food for our paddle from Port McNeill to Bella Bella tomorrow.

This leg took us 5 or 6 days longer than it should have. The northwest wind was brutal, and we couldn’t catch a break from the current. If our luck doesn’t change, and Katey’s shoulder doesn’t start feeling better quick, it’s going to be a long Summer! We’ve had 8 weather days in the first month. It’s time we get Mother Nature on our side.
Posted in Trip Log

Stupid wind

Jun06
2010 3 Comments Written by Doug

2 June 2010 — Yesterday was a weather day. We woke up to winds at 15-20 knots pedicted to rise to 30 in the afternoon and white caps decorating our path out. It was nice to sleep in and we spent the rest of the day luxuriously cooking, eating, and exploring the island. Fooled by light winds all day Doug and I did not see the necessity to move our tent. We had set it up with an optimal view through cascading rock outcrops and madrone trees to the calm, blue ocean. But as we crawled into our sleeping bags the wind shifted from walking to running and we awoke at midnight with it at a full on sprint, screaming strait off the ocean and through our tent, shaking it with the fury of the possesed. We debated our options to save our tent from broken poles. I thought it better to stake it out as best we could and stay put, Doug wanted to pull stakes and move to a more protected area. My visions of the tent snapping in our hands and being thrown into the ocean by the wind made me leery to this option, but just as I was voicing my opposition the tent’s ceiling bowed generously, nearly to the ground, and silenced any remaining thoughts of staying put where it was sure to snap it’s poles. I held the tent up with one hand and threw stuff out the door with the other while Doug and Zach worked outside gathering up our lives in bundles so nothing could be stolen by the wind. Zach who had set up his tent smugly in shelter drug himself out of bed into the driving rain and howling wind to help us rectify our mistake. We pulled the stakes, grabbed tent corners and moved in next to zach. It all went suprisingly smoothly. Our head lamps cutting small holes in the dark driving rain and our bright orange tent levitating in our white knuckled grasps, the lighthouse across the strait revolving rythmically in the distance. In the morning we awoke to still fierce winds and opted to stay another day in the shelter of the island. So doug and I cuddled in and watched Sherlock holms on my I-pod and ate granola like pop corn in the warmth of our sleeping bags. Maybe tomorrow we will paddle…

Posted in Trip Log

Nanaimo to Powell River

Jun05
2010 2 Comments Written by Doug

We left Nanaimo on Sunday, with light rain a nice tailwind. We were glad to leave the town behind. It is the last large town we will see for a long time. Nanaimo has around 80,000 people, and is spread out for miles. We stayed in a provincial park on Newcastle Island, a short paddle from downtown. We stopped for breakfast and to pick up some supplies before leaving, but weren’t able to find everything we needed in the city center. The outdoor stores, and by outdoor stores I guess I mean Canadian Tire and Walmart because they are the only outdoor stores to which the locals could direct us, are located out of town. So we loaded up and headed north without resupply in the early afternoon.

Our goal for the day was to reach Southey Island, about 4 or 5 miles from the Ballenas Islands, where we would cross the Strait of Georgia. We made it to Southey late in the evening, then went to bed with the rain coming down. Southey Island already looked remarkably different from the Gulf Islands through which we just passed. It’s a small rock with a thick patch of madrone and gary oak, and a small patch of grass that tilts toward the water. We had just enough time to make dinner in the rain and crawl into the tents before dark.

The strait is a large body of water between Vancouver Island and the BC mainland. The crossing from Ballenas is 5 to 7 miles depending on where you choose to land. We paddled from Southey north then east to Ballenas, where we could see what the water looked like in the Strait. The wind was blowing 10 – 15 from the South, and the waves were 1 to 2 feet. We figured this was probably about the best  conditions we could expect, so headed over to the tip of Lasqueti Island, about 7 miles. We made it across easily, with me and Katey sailing, and Zach paddling and bracing through the waves. We only saw one other boat on the crossing, a tug pulling a large barge that passed way behind us. We rounded the tip of Lasqueti and paddled on to Jedediah Island to a nice sand beach. We spent 3 nights on Jedediah when the wind picked up to 30 knots. It was a great place to hang out, with plenty of trails to wander.

When we left Jedediah the winds blew us easily down the west side of Texada Island, all the way to a hamburger stand we had heard about in Gillies Bay.  The southerly wind pushed the waves higher and higher through the day, but it was easy sailing for me and Katey. All we had to do was adjust our speed from time to time so we wouldn’t surf down the 1 to 3 foot waves. Zach, worked a little harder, having to concentrate and keep a close eye on the waves approaching from behind.

After hamburgers and showers we thought we might be able to make Powell River the next day if the winds cooperated. We got up extra early to annoy Katey (5 AM) and put in early miles in case the winds built up in the afternoon. The paddle started with flat water, but quickly became a light to moderate headwind that made it hard for me and Katey to paddle. Zach, with his lighter and faster boat was able to disappear ahead in short order. As we rounded the north end of Texada we were able to tack through the wind a bit, then just as we reached a heading that would allow us to sail the wind died. We paddled on, at least free of a headwind. After a while the wind picked up from a new direction and helped push as toward Powell River. After we caught up with Zach we stopped for some food and rest, then pushed across the last 4 miles to a campsite in Powell River.

It was a long 17 or so miles, but we made it in town early enough to set up camp and seek out another great mexican dinner. We have a lot of food with us, and we eat a lot of food, but I’m still famished most days. It’s hard to describe how nice it is to shove a plate full of spicy food down your throat after paddling for 8 hours.

From Powell River we finally start heading into the wilderness. Powell River has around 8000 people, and is one of the last towns accessible by road on the Sunshine Coast of BC. Our next town will be Port McNeill back on Vancouver Island, around 150 miles North and West of here.

Powell River is the last stop for Zach. He is going to catch a bus to the airport in Vancouver and fly back to Anchorage. It’s been really great having him along, not only to help carry our boats up the beach, but to provide entertainment around the cookstoves. It takes a certain sense of humor to paddle along day after day in the wind, the rain, and occasional sunshine, and still wake up singing annoying theme songs from the 80’s. Maybe Zach
and our friends John and Keeley can meet us in Ketchikan to paddle Misty Fjords when we get there?!

Posted in Trip Log