Kayak Bill Camps - Dallas Island

Originally published October 17, 2017

Dallas Island was one of Bill’s primary camps.  At ~21NM from Shearwater it was midway to his camps on Aristazabal.  Dallas is located along the eastern edge of Milbanke Sound and at the entry to Finlayson Channel where it provided superb shelter and a clear view of conditions on Milbanke Sound prior to committing to crossing over to Higgins Passage.  It was a one or two day paddle from his shack on Brian Clerx’s property that he referred to as “Denny Island Camp”.  By leaving Shearwater near the turn to ebb he could get to the Ivory Island / Blair Inlet complex at the turn to flood.  This would give him a push north to Dallas for the final 7 NM.  If conditions or tides didn’t cooperate there were bivy camps scattered along Seaforth Channel and a couple of camps in Blair Inlet where he could hole up.

In 2007 Dave, Greg and I stayed at the Dallas Island Camp.  Bill had spent eight days here in June 2003 on his way out to his more remote camps and had spent two more nights in October on his way back to Denny Island Camp.  He was headed back to Shearwater to do some painting and resupply for what would turn out to be his last trip.  He had just two months to live. 

Bivi at Safety Cove

 

On day 14 of our 2023 trip from Klemtu to Port Hardy Dave Resler and I ended up at a place called Safety Cove on east side of Calvert Island.  That came at the end of a 22-mile day grinding against rain driven by 15 kt headwinds and a moderate sea state.  Hard work in snotty conditions.  We figured that with a name like Safety Cove we would find a decent place to camp.  We had earned it but no such luck.  What we found was a sliver of high slope shell “beach” that would barely survive the 12.4’ high tide while providing no room for tents.  The backing forest was impenetrable.  There were two big logs that we could sit between in an upright fetal position, so I strung my tarp over them.  It was tight but would have to do. 

This was to be a wet, windy drysuit bivi in our PFD’s, hooded Storm Cags, wool hats, and spray skirts around our necks for added insulation.  I pulled the foam seat from the Grand Illusion to insulate my butt and put on my last dry Glacier Gloves.  We piled all our drybags on top of our legs and spread Dave’s ultralight tarp over us for a blanket.  It felt OK for about 30 minutes. 

The cold wind and rain continued through the night and, having firsthand experience with hypothermia, I monitored my temperature closely.  Shortly before sunrise the wind dropped, the rain stopped, and I actually fell asleep for 30 minutes or so. 

Not the worst night I have spent on the BC coast but still earns a rating of Type III fun.

Never Turn Your Back on the Sea

 

Honolulu’s own Duke Paoa Kahinu Mokoe Hulikohola Kahanamoku is recognized as the  Father of Surfing and during his life gained worldwide popularity as an Olympic swimmer, all round waterman and humble philosopher.  Many popular quotes track back to him during his 77 years and maybe the most famous is “Never turn your back on the ocean”. 

Duke Kahanamoku

1910 - Library of Congress - 10653

The late, great Eric Soares was a spectacular modern-day waterman in his own right.  Co-founder and Commander of the Tsunami Rangers he and his crew introduced the world to a gonzo sea kayaking discipline that is called Rock Gardening.  While Eric departed this plane in 2012, he left us with his Ten Commandments of Sea Kayaking.  Knowing a good idea when he heard it he borrowed from Duke and his First Commandment is “Never turn your back on the sea”. 

Eric Soares

copyright Michael Powers

Klemtu 2 Port Hardy 2023

After six years of retirement preparations, Covid restrictions and the business of selling our house, buying a new one and moving to Everett it was time to return to the BC coast and the Great Bear Rain Forest.  It had been even longer for my paddling partner, Dave Resler, who made it clear that he was going, no matter what.  All he asked me to do was all the planning and preparations.  Piece of cake, right? 

Honestly, I wasn’t convinced that he would really be able to go so I put off planning longer than I normally would have and when I did start I found that all of my nautical charts and charting tools had disappeared in our move.  Unbelievable!  I bought enough replacements to cover the waters between Port Hardy and Caamano Sound as I figured that I could come up with something interesting there but then found that Garmin had discontinued support for Homeport, the charting program I use.  Double unbelievable!  I had lost significant functionality in their decision to cast me aside but figured out enough workarounds to where I could get by. 

With my new charts and crippled Homeport application I decided to create a trip that would be familiar yet have enough new twists and turns to be interesting.  I felt that it would be most efficient (and fun) to ferry up to Klemtu and paddle back to Port Hardy by whatever route struck our fancy and that the conditions would accommodate.  Most of our “planned” campsites were just options and not hard and fast daily destinations.  Heresy, for some, but that's how I roll.  It would be a vague route that would allow us to change with the wind.  The chart work took me a couple of months of consistent work to complete. 

After losing all of my charts, finding my charting program “broken”, several of my dry bags delaminated, battery cases rusted shut, some safety gear expired or worn out and other key gear missing in action I shouldn’t have assumed that I was through the “broken phase” of the trip.  And I wasn’t. 

Dave had a new Garmin Mini 2 that would allow limited texting.  Since this brought a new expectation to our trips and because I was sensing that there might be some communication issues regarding conditions, movement, etc. I asked local paddler, mentor and all around good guy, Bill Porter, to act as our interpreter when and if a message really needed clarification and the guy who would handle things if we really needed help. 

This is the story of the Carhartt Duct Tape Tour.

Joey-Walks-with-White-Feet

Originally published December 2019

A significant storm approached as we were exiting Gale Passage.  Gale bisects the Bardswell Group and opens into Thompson Bay which faces south into the open Pacific.  If you were to continue south from Thompson Bay your first landfall would be Antarctica.  That is a hard-to-comprehend amount of fetch and while this storm wasn’t being driven by some historic low-pressure system that movies are made of it was big enough to get every sea-going vessel’s attention and it was going to make Thompson Bay an unfriendly environment to the extreme.  There may have been good places to hide from a storm in the bay but they were hiding from us and were not marked on our charts with the exception of Cree Point and Islet 48 which lay another 3 NM upwind from Cree.  Dave and I had previously stayed at the Heiltsuk cabin on Quinoot Point located 2 NM in the wrong direction and downwind from Cree.  We viewed it as our last resort option.  We thought that, if need be, we could probably slip through the backdoor route between Dufferin and Potts Islands that is blocked at low tides and requires a slippery and ankle breaking portage. 

Marcel Speaks

 

Originally published 4/21/2021

On my second day of skiing I participated in a series of bad decisions that nearly cost me and my friends our lives.  Being in high school at the time when bad ideas and bad decisions were a way of life the only thing that is surprising is that we survived.  Without belaboring details let me just say that we had gotten lost and were suffering from hypothermia.  We were rescued by three remarkable men, two of whom told me years later that when they found us, we had maybe 2 hours to live.  Two of those men were very kind but the third was a beast.  

The beast was a German expat named Marcel Schuster who had served on the Russian Front in WWII as a Nazi Mountain Trooper.  He was captured and spent three years in a POW camp which didn’t make him a nicer person.  He was entirely unpleasant and totally unsympathetic to our situation.  During our rescue the only six words he uttered to us were “You Stoopid Boyzzz” and “Learn or Die” followed by another “You Stoopid Boyzzz”.  After eight years I was reunited with the three men who I owed my life to and Marcel didn’t smile and wouldn’t shake my hand.  All he said while looking at me with a cold and bitter stare was “You Stoopid Boyzzz”.  

I’m going to get to the kayaking part in a minute but before I do I want to mention what a strong influence Marcel’s message has had on my life choices.  Though I have met no one who knew him who would describe him as a nice guy he spoke to me in a way that got my attention and that I understood.  

I think that many of us choose our activities, boating or otherwise, where we accommodate objective risks and plan for what subjective risk / rewards we may or may not be willing to consider.  Since that cold Winter night in my 17^th year when I had 2 hours to live but was snatched from death by two nice men and one acerbic ex-Nazi with a short temper and no tolerance for the dumb-assery of youth I have heard Marcel speak to me a number of times.  When he speaks I listen. 

  

I was 2 days into a 2 week solo kayaking trip on the BC coast when my weather radio told me that an intense ridge was setting up over Haida Gwaii and that it would bring 40 kt winds to the area.  That made my intended route and my current location untenable.  I had two days to seek a sheltered route, which was doable, but I didn’t want to go where the easy and safe routes would take me.  There was a 6 mile stretch of coastline on Athlone Island that I wanted to see and if I hurried, I could paddle it and get into the lee of the Bardswell Group before the winds arrived, but just barely.  Once sheltered by the Bardswells I could scurry from here to there like a mouse evading a hungry cat, safe as long as I didn’t get caught in the open.  So, for 2 days I monitored weather and hustled towards safety.  

Beatdown at Red Sand Beach

Originally published 10/13/2019

Fury Cove to Red Sand Beach

August 9 / Day 12

Heavy fog to low overcast, Winds calm increasing to W @ 15 knots, Seas calm to swells at 1.5 meter with 2 foot windwaves, Combined seas to 6 1/2 feet, moderate at times

Some days on the water are perfect and some are less so.  Sometimes those less-so days deteriorate into downright sucky and no fun at all.  Foggy days often fall into the less-so category for me.  On this day I would be crossing Rivers Inlet and Smith Sound with a combined total of ~10 NM of open water.  I delayed my departure until an hour into the flood knowing that it would take me another 45 minutes to reach Karslake Point where I would start across Rivers Inlet.  If it was to be a blind crossing I wanted to avoid currents that would drift me out towards Queen Charlotte Sound but I hoped that the fog would lift so I could see what I was doing.