Kayak Bill Camps - Roar Islet

Tiny Roar Islet is tucked into Blair Inlet and protected from most of the unpleasantness that can occur on Milbanke Sound.  I suspect that prior to the establishment of the Dallas Island Camp this was Bill’s primary staging and receiving site for comings and goings with the outer coast.  He planned camps to be about 25 miles apart and set up what he called “intermediate camps” or “bivy camps” in between.  There were several of these camps set up along both sides of Seaforth Channel.  I think that after the establishment of Dallas Island Camp, Roar became an intermediate camp and probably didn’t see that much of him. 

Approaching Roar Islet

Image by Denis Dwyer

Located an hour north up Reid Passage was a log salvage operation that Bill called “Kevin’s Float Camp – Beachcomber”.  In 1994 he dropped in for a visit and met a recent college grad who was working at the camp.  Over time he would stop by to say “Hello” and enjoy a fresh cup of coffee.  During one of these visits he told the young man that he was thinking about heading out to the Goose Group to get away from the tourist traffic. 

Kayak Bill at Kevin's Camp

Image by Colin Lake

Thirteen years later and fresh from our experiences at Dallas Island we entered Blair Inlet and searched Roar Islet for Bill’s signature windscreen.  We found nothing.  The islet is just 300’ x 150’ with ~150’ of beach.  How hard could this be?  Two years later we searched again and netted the same results.  Nothing.  Then a photo posted by another kayaker of a “fire pit assumed to be Kayak Bill’s” confirmed that the camp had existed.

Ron Caves Photos

It wouldn’t be until my third visit to Roar Islet in 2012 that I found the entry into the site.  His square fire pit lined with flat granite slabs was just barely peeking up through the ground cover in a tiny semi-clearing that was so well nestled into the trees that it had never needed a windscreen and was hidden to the degree that I had walked past it numerous times and never saw it.  Some perfectly split pieces of cedar fire wood were scattered about and peeking through the pine needles and salal.  Pulling back the surface layer I found an odd collection of plastic bits and pieces that I was starting to associate with Bill’s life.   

There were no other signs that the camp had ever existed and now, five years later I bet that it has been completely taken by the forest. 

Continued..........