Vancouver Island Circumnavigation -- Week 1

Introduction

For a couple years, I have dreamed of doing a trip around Vancouver Island, a rite of passage for many serious kayakers in our area. While taking BCU 4* training sessions with Body Boat Blade, I met fellow paddlers Roy Massena and Andrew Feucht who were also interested in such an expedition. Last year, the three of us finished a 12 day exploratory trip from Port Hardy to Zeballos, and after spending a couple more weekends at Hobuck Beach practicing rough-water rescues and surf landings, we felt that we had built up our experience and skills enough to take on the 42nd largest island in the world. Due to work pressures, however, Andrew could only participate in the last two weeks of the trip. Another experienced kayaker, Scott Hagerty, also decided to join us in Port Hardy to kayak Vancouver Island’s west coast.

We planned to spend five weeks on our trip, starting and ending at Washington Park in Anacortes. Our trip would take us through 700 nautical miles of coastline, ranging from urban to pristine. After months of preparation, we are finally ready.

Day 1 - Washington Park to Patos Island

June 25th - my birthday. Two pieces of birthday cake and party hats make a perfect sendoff for our voyage as Roy and I push off from Washington Park out into Rosario Strait. It's amazing how quickly conditions can change as the huge tidal current in the Strait travels across the various underwater features and reefs. Tide rips jump as we pass the Peapod Rocks and head up the east coast of Orcas Island. The water calms down again, and we aim our boats at the island chain north of Orcas: Clarke, Matia, Sucia and finally little Patos Island, where we settle in for the night. I wear neoprene shorts and a lightweight paddling top with vented neck to keep me cool on this hot, cloudless day, leaving my drysuit packed away for darker days. To our pleasant surprise, we will not see a single cloud for the next week.

Day 2: Patos Island to James Bay

Roy had convinced me to try sleeping in a bivy sack, but the mosquitos were out, I was sweltering, and I had a perfectly good tent with me. I lasted only an hour before I put my tent up, and I would send my bivy sack back from Port Hardy, unused. But hey, it only weighed eight ounces.

Meanwhile, some very drunk sailors wandered into our campsite during the night, and after almost tripping over us, invited us back to their boat to watch movies on their boat moored out in the cove. We kindly declined. In the morning, we woke up and found that they had not tied up their dinghy when they got back to their sailboat, and it had (luckily for them), washed up on the beach. I hooked up my tow rope and towed it back out to them, for which their gratitude could not really penetrate their hungover-ness. Karma would be with me though when my own boat decided to float away out on the west coast.

Our challenge for the day was to cross Boundary Passage, a large strait that not only separated the United States from Canada, but which also provided passage to a large number of extremely large fast moving freighters that transited between Vancouver and the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Roy suggested that we cross on a rising ebb that would help sweep us down towards Bedwell Harbour, where we would stop to go through customs. This choice proved to be rather more sporting than we thought. As we paddled west, we found ourselves swept south towards President Channel and the west coast of Orcas. An hour later, we had barely cleared Waldron Island four miles to the south and had made no westward progress. Meanwhile, three freighters had came and went. Additionally, I had taken several waves to the face already, the wind had picked up to 10 to 15 knots, and water had gone up my sleeves and down my neck. I had worn my neoprene shorts and lightweight paddle top, as I was somehow seduced by the hot calm conditions in the cove at Patos Island, but now I am reconsidering my decision. My drysuit is safely tucked away where I cannot use it.

When we cleared Waldron Island, the current changed in a more favorable direction, and we made slow progress. Bouncing through tide rips down the strait as we arm wrestled the current and wind was exhilirating, so long as no more freighters showed up. I made a frantic dash the last couple hundred yards to the south end of Pender Island, just as the current threatened to sweep us past our objective. I looked south and saw a freighter appearing around Turn Point, two miles away. Perfect timing, in my opinion, and not a crossing I'd want to do again. Looking back, I think that this day was the most difficult day of the trip.

When we finally got to Bedwell Harbour, we discovered that customs was a much smaller operation than we thought it would be. I've never checked through customs over the phone before, and was tempted to answer some of their questions in a provocative manner just to see what would happen; luckily, Roy was doing all the talking.

Formalities over, I grabbed some yogurt, greek salad and a pastrami sandwich and watched kids playing in the pool. This Canada place isn't so bad after all. Marinas would help provide us some valuable culinary diversity, up the east side of the island, at least..

On our way again, an ill-decided turn around the east side of Prevost Island left us fighting counter currents and ferries coming out of Active Pass. I like to stay as far away from big boats as possible; Roy seems relatively unafraid of them, and would probably surf their bow wake if he could get that close. We eventually decided to stop at James Bay on the north side of Prevost. We had the bay all to ourselves (as we would for almost all of our campsites), except for a sailboat moored at the far end of the bay.

At 9:30 pm, it was still 65 degrees. Hot, hot.

Day 3: James Bay to Pirates Cove

We decided to wait until the afternoon to catch the flood current, so we slept in until almost 7:30, a feat that would never again be repeated on our trip. We lazily relaxed in camp for a couple hours, another feat that would never again be repeated. Two long hard days had left my muscles in a sorry state, however. I had some slight tendonitis due in part, I believe, to the white knuckled trip across Boundary Passage, as well as to using a stiff carbon-fiber paddle. Today I switched to my backup fiberglass paddle to give my fingers an easier time while they were adjusting to the strain of paddling for 32 more days. 32 more days - I don't even want to think about that right now.

The current is favorable yet mild, and we cruise along at a comfortable pace under sunny skies and calm weather, although the VHF gives ominous reports of 20 to 30 knot NW winds south of Nanaimo. I turn my VHF off and put it away for a few days. No use listening to bad news. Luckily, the winds do not appear.

By 7pm, we reach our planned destination at Pirates Cove, a marine park on an island that just of De Courcy Island. The two islands are, in fact, connected by what looks like a bog, and when we land, swarms of mosquitos rise up and pick the flesh off our bones. We briefly glimpsed the designated campsites as we raced backed to our boats and paddled out of the bay, swarms of bugs trailing along behind us. There was no chance that we would camp there.

We headed around to the cove that separated the two islands on the north side and found many moored boats, but no campsites. Roy pointed out some nice brown beaches across the channel a mile away that were right below an area marked 'cliffs' on our chart. There were definitely cliffs there, but there seemed to be a lot of beach area, and we would reasonably find some place to camp there. We decided to cross over and test our luck, or lack thereof.

As we got closer and closer, the "brown beaches" started to look more and more log-covered, and when we got to the cliffs, we discovered that they were, in fact, logs. all logs. There were several huge log rafts anchored just below the cliffs, and the only spot that was remotely non-vertical was a small bivy cave where we could sleep sitting down while our kayaks were pulled up on the logs. No thank you.

It was after 8pm and we headed back to Pirates Cove after debating heading into uncharted territory. We had passed a few spots along the outside of the island where we could possibly land a kayak, and going back to scout those, we found a decent rock shelf onto which we could pull our kayaks. The mosquitos were still bad, but there was a breeze, and after eating on the rock shelf, we pitched our tents right there on the rock shelf and then quickly carried them up into the woods, jumped in them and went to bed. Shortly after we arrived, just as dusk was settling in, a tugboat sped by and headed over to the log booms by the cliffs on the opposite side of the channel. It was still over there with its lights on when we went to bed, and when we got up in the morning, the log booms were gone.

Day 4: Pirates Cove to Maude Island

We took down our tents and ate breakfast on the little rock shelf, away from the mosquitos. We had planned going through Dodd/FalseNarrows somewhere near slack, but we got there at full ebb. It turns out that we can work our way up the shore of False Narrows even against the current, and we eventually pop out in a bay south of Nanaimo. Dodging a tug pulling logs and another pulling barges, we sprint past Duke Bay as a ferry arrives, and fighting headwinds and 2 1/2 foot seas, we make our way across the entrance of Nanaimo Bay to Protection Island, and by early afternoon we scoot into Newcastle Park. The channel between Protection Island and Newcastle Island is so shallow, we have to walk/drag our kayaks up the channel to the park. We watch nine Japanese girls try to carry a loaded kayak up the beach. They are all grunting and groaning. Why they don't empty the boat first I don't understand.

Newcastle is a beautiful park, with showers (yay!), totem poles, and a beautiful view of Nanaimo across the bay. We each take a shower, shave and wolf down a sandwich and fries at the concessionaire. This whole east side trip won't be so bad after all. I wasn't expecting such an amenity filled trip. I've eaten out for lunch twice now. No wonder I'm having a hard time finishing dinner.

After a couple hours of relaxation, we headed on into rising winds and we aim for Maude Island, the first of an island chain near the Ballenas Islands. I never even heard of these islands before this trip. Maude Island turns out to be a rock, but we find a spot where we could get our boats in (over rocks) and clear away rocks for a tent spot. The sunset and view of the other islands is beautiful though, and we might be one of only a small handful of people that camp here.

Day 5: Maude Island to Qualicum Bay

It gets light at 5am, so we were up at 6am. No more waiting for tidal currents now that we are in the straight, and we demostrated yesterday that we could make good time event against a reasonable current. We stopped by Schooner's Cover marina for breakfast - Roy demonstrated his lack of skill at climbing out of a kayak onto the dock. I saw a sign on the dock that said "Kids don't float" and had PFDs available for kids. I wondered aloud whether they had tried this empirically: "That's 9 out of 9. Should we try a tenth one??".

We eventually got out of the Ballenas Island group (as I call them) and were now on Vancouver Island's sunshine coast. There are lots of very wide beaches and shallow water between Parksville and Qualicum Bay. The water was light blue, and kids were wading out a hundred yards into the waist deep water. Meanwhile, we had our immersion gear on....

We also stopped into French Creek marina, a working man's marina, for an ice cream. It is interesting how the marinas are all fairly different feeling and have their own character.

Roy pointed out on the chart a spot where the road moved away from the shoreline and suggested that it was a good area to look for camping. When we got there, we found a section of wild shore backed by dense undergrowth and water seeping out from unseen cliffs. There were no houses for two miles along this shore. At the first spot we stopped, there were pools of murky water in the sand, and a rustling in the bushes suggested a large lumbering animal (bear?). Eagles called from every other tree. We camped a little further down the beach where bear tracks crossed the sand above high tide. This section of coast was a beautiful spot in an otherwise urban area. I watched from our tent site as four otters played on the beach and just offshore as the sun set. Denman Island, our destination for tomorrow, was visible in the setting sun.

Day 6: Qualicum Bay to Sandy Island

Today is hot, hot, hot, and we only wear T-shirts. The water is glassy as we pass by Qualicum Bay, where fierce Qualicum winds are known to occur as the wind is funneled through the gap in the Vancouver Island mountain range. Localized winds of 40 knots are known to blow kayakers all the way to Lasqueti Island, but there is no wind today.

We chatted with the girl running the cafe / espresso stand at the Denman Island Ferry Terminal while we watched a couple small ferries come and go and soaked up island life while eating ice cream. She said that it would be 35 degrees (C) tomorrow - yikes! An older woman who lived there and was waiting for the ferry had fled with her son from the US during the Vietnam War and settled here. Denman Island has a lot of oyster farmers - the shallow water between Denman and VI is very warm. We saw lots of cages and weirs, as well as rickety floating barges that held oysters in trays underneath them anchored just offshore.

We finished our day at Sandy Island Marine Park just north of Denman. The whole island is sand, but there is a forest on it, and we found a spot that was covered in grass and leaves so that we could avoid placing our tents and gear directly on sand. Sand is nice and all, but when it starts invading your gear and stays there for thirty days, you won't be so happy, so we were extra careful about sand management and went to great lengths to avoid touching it too much. There were several other campers and boaters scattered around the island, all in a good mood coming into the Canada Day weekend.

Day 7: Sandy Island to Oyster Bay (July 1st: Canada Day)

We got up at 4am to avoid the heat, and were on the water by 5:15. The sun rose over the mountains as we passed a couple deer at the end of the spit. With very few stops today, we made it to Salmon Point marina at 3pm, 22nm later. I'm surprised at how few boats are out on the water today. The marina is mainly an RV park with an almost empty marina attached, but there was an amazingly good restaurant that grew its own herbs in a herb garden out back. I sat down to a pulled pork sandwich, french fries and a yummy caeser salad while we looked out on the water and pondered that the Discovery Islands were called that because the explorers discovered that the tide changed near here and started going the other way, so that they knew there was a passage around the island. The water in this area tends to be a little murky and warm.

I would have been happy to camp at the marina, but we kayaked another half hour to the last bluff before Campbell River to stealth camp. I am uneasy with the whole stealth camping near people's houses. It turns out that I set up my tent only five feet from a stairway that comes down from the house on the bluff above. Some kids came down onto the beach a ways down, but noone bothered us. Hopefully, this will be our last difficult camp spot.