Magic Light on Otter Channel

One of my favorite things about paddling the BC coastline is the way light is accentuated, diffused, bent, filtered and muted to create impossible colors and a million shades of grey.  It’s true that the precipitation that created the world’s largest temperate rainforest can provide greyness in seemingly endless quantities but in smaller doses it interacts with light and makes magic.  Paddling in fog or overcast you may experience a visual transformation of dark monotones changing to silvers that suddenly erupt into violent explosions of color.  Longer angles of sunlight passing through moisture suspended in the air bathes us in unworldly colors that have no names.

There is a particular magic light that occurs when the sky has a low overcast or a thin fog layer and the sun tries hard to work its way though. Everything is in shades of silver and grey. The water is in motion and reflects light like mercury.  The cloud cover thins in places and beams of sunlight break through, explode then disappear.

On An Adventure of Its Own

Posted with permission - This was originally posted by Randy Washburne on his Facebook page. - I have reformatted Randy's original post to work with my blog format.  In so doing I have attempted to retain all of the original look and feel including punctuation. 

Two kayaks on the beach in the Broken Group Islands on the west coast of Vancouver Island, British Columbia.  Both are Seaworthy Enetai kayaks, designed by the late Kelly Tjaden.  Kelly joined us on this trip and took the photo.

The Green boat is mine.  The nearest multi-colored boat belonged to my friend Dennis and has a wild history

In 1989 Kelly and nine others from Britain and the US made an attempt to cross the Bering Strait from Alaska to the Soviet Union in kayaks.  For the expected abuse from ice, etc. Kelly built the red, white and blue boat with an extra heavy hull and deck.  The colors were to increase its visibility.

They started from Nome in early June paddling up the coast toward the Strait, expecting to be able to find open water along the shore inside the pack ice.  But the ice had been blown inshore so they had to drag the loaded boats for many miles across the ice before they found some leads in which to continue. 

They started across to the Diamedes Islands, with the international border running between them.  As they neared the border strong wind and currents made progress difficult.  After thirteen hours of paddling and blown well off course they decided to radio for help.  The group got separated and some of the boats were picked up by a soviet military ship.  Kelly and four others were rescued by an Eskimo outboard-powered umiak (open skin boat) from the village on little Diamedes, boarding the boat while the five kayaks were towed.  But progress was too slow and the boats had to be cut loose.  

Kelly thought that was the last of that boat, but it floated with its full load of gear drifting through the Baring Strait ice all summer.  In early Fall it was found and taken aboard by a large sailboat and returned to Seattle where Kelly got it back intact.

Being such a heavy boat Kelly didn't have much use for it so it got occasional paddles over the years.  My wife paddled it in Swinomish Channel near La Conner one year.  Finally in the late 1990's my friend Dennis bought it and we made several trips together, including this one to the Broken Group in April 2001.  That Summer Dennis and I paddled with two other friends down the BC coast from Prince Rupert to Port Hardy, joined our spouses in Shearwater for the second half.  I got to know its considerable heft very well carrying it across many rocky beaches.

At one point Dennis got surfed full speed into a rock with a CLUNK heard a hindred yards away.  No harm done - that boat was indestructible.  I don't know what eventually became of it.  

International Relations

Solo adventure kayaking presents some challenges that aren’t present when traveling with a team. 

• Some are obvious like having no shared gear which means more weight and more space required for you to deal with. 
• It means that at least twice each day you have to solo carry your 60+ pound boat and 130+ pounds of gear between the tide line and camp.  On a three-week trip that is 5,250 pounds carried.  You have to trust me that if you have a partner it is easier to carry ½ that amount of weight twice than it is to carry it alone once. 
• It means that you make all of the critical decisions as there are no “more experienced” partners to rely upon,  
• It also means that if you are like me and sometimes awkward and lacking self-confidence around strangers you have no other confident, smiling face to buffer and smooth your interactions with said strangers.  No one to send ahead to pave the way, as it were. 

For this final reason, in part, my ferry ride from Port Hardy to Klemtu was an interesting and uncomfortable exercise in international relations.

Passengers with kayaks are the first allowed to board the Northern Expedition in Port Hardy as we have to move our boats from the ramp to the far end of the ferry.  I happened to be the only traveler with a kayak so I was the very first to board.  As the first walk-on I made my way to an upper deck and my favorite seating area on the starboard side just outside of the Aurora Lounge.  Being first in gave me my pick of seats so I chose a high-backed seat front and center to a set of tall windows.  Soon others filed in and a tall European man asked me if the seats were taken.

“Only this one that I’m sitting in” I responded with a smile.

 Soon he returned with an entourage of older German speaking folks.  They quickly snapped up all of the seats except for the one beside me.  Several walked up to the seat and looked down at me as if to suggest that I should move elsewhere so that they could have my place.  Their posture and glares seemed to say “If you move somewhere else we can sit here”.  I was wearing my best welcoming face because I was really looking forward to the company but had no plans of moving.  The group in the adjacent trio of seats had an animated conversation that was interrupted only by glances at me and the adjacent seat.  It was as if they were trying to figure out whether to ask me to move or failing that which among them would be so unfortunate as to sit next to me.  Finally, a fair-haired woman sat in the seat sideways with her back to me.

Nisqually Reach 2 Alki 2009

I have done a number of day trips in the South Sound but I always wanted to paddle back home rather than return to the put-in. I may have mentioned before that Dave and I have a goal to travel from the southern-most regions of Puget Sound to Alaska by kayak. Yes? No? Whatever, we do and this will be done, in chunks. The South Sound to Seattle was a just a piece of it but the timing was never right. Last Fall while eating lunch at Winghaven State Park (a WWT camp site on Vashon Island) we discussed the idea of banging out the South Sound piece during the Winter. We agreed to do it and in January and we did.