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.
Drive to Port Hardy
July 28 / Day 0
Drive to Port Hardy
Upon arrival in Port Hardy we suffered our first equipment
failure when the adhesive holding one of the anchor tabs for Dave’s North Water
Underdeck Bag came loose. No worries
though as we had a couple of hours before we could check in at the North Coast
Backpackers Hostel, it was a lovely day and Carrot Park offered us a pleasant
workspace for open air repairs.
At 4:00 PM the proprietor of the hostel showed up but
suggested that we walk down the street to watch the arrival
of the Hōkūleʻa and crew as they were welcomed to Port Hardy by by the local
Indigenous people. The Hōkūleʻa, a 62 foot Samoan sailing vessel is on a trip to
circumnavigate the Pacific Ocean and the three local First Nations people, Kwakiutl, Quatsino and Gwa'sala-'Nakwaxda'xw were onhand for the traditional
welcoming ceremony and it was a moving display. We were fortunate to be able to
witness that tradition.
Klemtu to Tombolo Camp
July 29 / Day 1
60˚, Overcast
Winds light and variable / Seas calm
There were a number of paddlers aboard the Northern
Expedition who were bound for Prince Rupert or points beyond. Only three paddlers disembarked at Klemtu. Dave, me and 2015 R2AK race veteran and Anacortes resident, John
Strathman. We helped him move his craft,
an Easy Rider OC1, beneath the ferry dock where he set up quickly and was on
his way north long before we launched.
The put-in treated us to all of its usual charms including scraped gel coat, bumped forehead, bloody knuckles, banged up toes and twisted knees. A stellar time was had by all. Some folks think that expedition style kayaking is dangerous, but it is what we expose ourselves to on shore that threatens us most.
Once afloat we paddled just 6.1 NM to Tombolo Camp in Meyers
Passage and called it a day. Dave’s
camera started acting up and his cockpit leaks were still evident. My paddling shoes let me know that I should
have bought them a size larger.
6.1 NM / 2:12
Tombolo Camp to Milne Island
July 30 / Day 2
60˚, Scattered clouds to Overcast with showers
Winds calm changing to S @ 15 gusting to 20 knots / .7
meter swells with 3 foot windwaves, Seas moderate
Tombolo Camp is set just above a clamshell beach that was
created long ago by the Kitasoo/Xai’xais or their ancestors. They built “walls” of boulders between two
sides of a wooded islet and the adjacent shore where silt and sand collected to
create an environment where clams flourished.
This traditional aquaculture is still obvious all along the coast and harvested in the traditional way.
Tombolo Camp also features a good stream with acceptable
quality water. Good water is not a
gimmee on the coast. The stream here
doesn’t have too much tannin so we gathered, filtered and stocked our full 30
liter capacity.
The weather started out beautiful but quickly changed to rain as we explored McRae Cove and Jorgenson Harbour. Within 3 NM of Milne the strong south winds from Laredo Sound found us and turned a pleasant paddle into a slog. At Hartnell Point it was full-on and partially abeam with .7 meter swells and windwaves to 3 feet. Holding a course cross to these conditions was tough but Dave made the best of it by hiding below the crests and running the troughs for all they were worth. The lee of Milne Island was a comfort.
The stitching holding one fabric cuff on Dave’s dry suit failed. We considered duct taping it in place but ultimately got over it and let it flop. Also, his camera breathed its last and has crossed the Rainbow Bridge. My Spot device failed to send tracks.
11.2 NM / 9:39
Milne Island to Higgins Passage
July 31 / Day 3
65˚, Scattered clouds to Overcast with showers
Winds SW @ 5 – 15 knots / Low SW swell with 2 foot
windwaves, Seas rippled
Heavy showers darkened the sky to the east and pushed winds
and waves across our bows while we covered the ~3.2 NM from Milne to Wilby
Point. It made the crossing of Kitasu
Bay somewhat of a sporting event and kept us on our toes. As if conceding the round to us the winds
abated once we landed.
Kayak Bill had a camp here at one time and I thought that I
would have a look-see. Dave and I split
up to broaden our search and within 15 minutes he called me on the radio
telling me to come have a look.
There were the remains of a camp set back from the west facing beach marked by a buoy. I’m not convinced that it was Bill’s, though, as it had several architectural elements that weren’t part of his prototype. However, the granite shards of the firestand and several other signature pieces suggested otherwise. This structure was made of the usual materials but the shape of the walls and flat roof were both atypical. This structure seemed to be “L-shaped”, which I had never seen before, and Bill had mostly settled on at structure with a pitched roof rather than flat. On his charts he had carefully marked the location on the east side of the point but this was on the west side.
Navigating the western entry to Higgins Passage has always
been tough for me so for fun I assigned that task to Dave. He was confused but did better than I ever
have. He even found the entrance to the lagoon where Kayak Bill’s “Higgins Pass Camp” molders away in the forest. Unfortunately, the tide was too low to allow
us linger so we left and moved on.
The Higgins Passage Campsite exhibits the scars from heavier
usage than past years. Some cardboard
garbage was left on the beach, the ground cover is completely gone in places, a
fire ring was built in the uplands and some “anti-Leave-No-Trace / Look-at-Me”
nimrod left his/her/their failed Bear Grylls merit badge project standing in
the forest. I won’t dignify the eyesore
with a photograph but it is an A-frame-style-too-small shelter with a
windscreen erected where the wind never comes from. The roof is made of sticks and ferns so you
know how well it sheds the rain. It is
basically nothing other than a monument to Nimrod’s visit. So glad that he/she/they left it for all to
worship.
We discovered some holes in the body of Dave’s new Hubba Hubba NX. We patched them with Tenacious Tape. My “land” camera started calling for constant battery changes, freezing or shutting off. What’s with that? My Spot device checked in and out reporting position about half of the time. I put in a fresh set of batteries.
11.5 NM / 6:38
Higgins Passage to Pidwell Beach
Aug 1 / Day 4
65˚, Clear
Winds light and variable / Seas calm
Higgins Passage narrows and gets very bony at the south end
of Lohbrunner Island. Even with the best
of tides there are still large barnacle covered rocks just beneath the surface
waiting to snack on your gel coat. You
really have to pay attention and go slow.
No paddling in straight lines here.
Even when you are well east of Lohbrunner you can’t let your guard
down. I was nearly 2 NM beyond the
narrows and feeling like I was in the clear when I ran solidly aground. I wasn’t even that close to shore. First there was water and then there wasn’t. Be careful out there.
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The BC Coastal Wolves eat only the nutrient-rich heads. Good
caloric economy and it allows them to avoid ingesting a parasite present in raw
Salmon that is potentially fatal to canines. They had started their feast at
high tide and worked their way down stream until we arrived. We never saw a
single wolf but they saw us. How many
wolves does it take to eat 200 Salmon heads?
Pidwell Beach was our planned lunch stop and it has some
charm. It is protected from nasties that
blow in from Milbanke Sound by Pidwell Reef which sits about ¾ mile offshore. There is a good stream at the west end of the
reddish-brown sand beach. The forest
descends right down to the water which means that there is no upland
camping. All camping is on the sand or
in the logs. It’s special and I’ve never
missed a chance to stop and visit.
Dave suggested that we stay the night, but I knew that at 16.7 feet we were in for the highest tide of the month. No way. Dave walked around looking at the previous night’s high tide (16.4 feet) and identified three tent-size spots in the logs that should be above the next high slack. I’ve always wanted to camp at Pidwell and Dave is seldom wrong with tides. It seemed to me that we should stay dry and if the tide turned out to be higher than forecasted there were logs that we could throw our stuff on top off. We set up, lounged around, ate dinner and eventually turned in.
Since high slack was at 1:32 AM I set my alarm for 1:00
AM. Throughout the night the surf
sounded uncomfortably close so when my alarm went off, I was ready for a
look-see. I awoke to a spectacular
evening with the huge yellow full moon blocked by only strips of scattered clouds. Loud surf was surging around both sides of my
tent but was still more than a foot below my pad. Dave had been up for two hours watching the
show because he had forgotten what time high slack was and didn’t want to
disturb me. When I told him that we only
had 30 minutes to go he did the math and relaxed. In the morning we saw that every section of
beach other than our three small tracts had been inundated.
Outages by my Spot device continued throughout the day. I put in a fresh set of batteries.
8.5 NM / 7:14
Aug 2 / Day 5
65˚, Clear with areas of thick fog
Winds SW @ 5 – 15 knots / Low swell with 2 foot
windwaves. Seas rippled
There is a point with fog where the thicker it gets the easier it is to follow a compass course. It can be deep fog extending high above the water or shallow fog that is still thick but shallow enough that the sun penetrates it to some degree. With deep fog you can’t see one damn thing and have to rely on sound, smell and your compass. With shallow fog you get distracted and chase light, distrusting what your compass is telling you. I do pretty well in deep fog but shallow fog gives me navigation conniptions and my course looks like a river winding through the flatlands.
On this day the morning started clear but soon the eastern shore of Milbanke Sound was obscured by shallow fog. Southwest swell with windwaves caught us on our starboard beam and made it tough to hold the 120˚ course to Keith Point. Add to that the shallowness of the thick fog and my dumbassedness for being easily confused and chasing light and we found ourselves a mile north of where we intended to be. The flood current slowed us to a crawl as we struggled south back to our intended course. Eventually we had lunch at Kayak Bill’s campsite on Dallas where we explored his amazing boardwalk in 2007.
The slog to Seaforth Channel and across to Gale Passage seemed
longer and harder than I remembered it from 2017, 2009 or 2007. Once we entered Gale Passage we found that
the tide was so low that it was hard to wind our way in and once we were in
front of the cabin there was a ton of steep rocky beach with no place to
gracefully exit our boats. I just sat in
my boat and waited for the tide to rise a bit.
My GPS burned through another set of batteries. I loaded another set and switched to battery
save mode. Dave’s GPS would not find
satellites. Fresh batteries didn’t
help.
16.8 NM / 8:02
Aug 3 / Day 6
65˚, Clear
Winds SW @ 5 – 15 knots / Low swell with 2 foot
windwaves. Seas rippled
Very nice day on the water.
We paddled west from Gale Passage to Cape Swain where the coast of
Athlone Island turns south. The wind and
waves were mostly in our faces which made for pleasant paddling. We watched as one helicopter after another
flew into St. John’s Harbour. Within 15
minutes of each landing a high speed sport fishing boat loaded with recent
arrivals motored out past the buoy marking the end of Rage Reef. It was a constant line of boats leaving
wicked wakes for us to manage. It was
really fun. We likened it to the
Montlake Cut on Steroids.
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9.0 NM / 4:41
Cape Mark to Sneaker Cabin
Aug 4 / Day 7
70˚, Clear
Winds light and variable / Seas calm
Low tide at Cape Mark always shocks me because when the tide
is low the water is GONE. It looks like
the surface of a different planet so we just waited until we had water to
enough to float our boats. That meant
that we didn’t launch until nearly 2:00 PM which led to a hot and nearly
windless paddle to the labyrinth of islands that trickle off the south end of
Stryker Island.
It is hard to find and barely qualifies as a cabin now due to its state of decay. The path to the cabin has become overgrown and treacherous but there is an area about 150 feet away that survives most tides and that is where we set up our tents.
The stitching of the security harness for my Spot device failed so I couldn’t secure the device. I sewed it up using needle and thread from my repair materials. Also, my GoPro froze up and stayed that way until it burned through the battery charge. I found that I had brought the wrong charging cable so camera number 3 out of 4 was DOA.
9.3 NM / 4:20
Aug 5 / Day 8
60˚, Clear with areas of thick fog
Winds light and variable changing to W @ 5 – 15 knots / Seas
calm increasing to 1 meter swells with 2 foot windwaves. Seas calm increasing to moderate at times
Low tide kept us from launching until 1:00 PM and then we
were off to Iroquois Island to gather water.
I spent an hour and a half filtering water while Dave watched the
boats. There isn’t a good place to get
out of your boat or to get back into them there so Dave spent much of that time
in waist deep water keeping the boats safe.
I definitely had the better job.
The fog set in as we started across Queens Sound for the Simonds Group. Sea state was 1 meter swells with 2 foot windwaves. It kept us busy. We agreed that if we cheated to the left whenever we encountered islets or rocks we would be fine. Due to the thick fog most of the rocks and islets were heard rather than seen so cheat, we did. It seemed that the sound of waves crashing was becoming constant, pushing us further to the left of rocks that didn’t appear on our charts. Finally, with the sounds right on top of us we saw that we had been skirting a large tide race for the last half hour or so. Lines of noisy standing waves extended as far as we could see, which wasn’t far, but we spent quite some time managing that unexpected challenge.
When we finally entered the “Simonds Group” we were happy
for the cover and to actually know where we were. I turned on my GPS to confirm our location
and was very surprised to see that we had entered a dead end passage in the
McNaughton Group and were 2 NM ESE from where we had reckoned we were. We’ll catch the Simonds Group next trip.
Another surprise awaited us as we finally entered Cultus Sound. Another tide race had set up with 2+ foot standing waves created by currents clashing midway through the flood with only a 10 foot exchange. I’ve been to Cultus Sound half a dozen times and never encountered that before.
The final surprise was finding Barb and George Gronseth of
Issaquah’s Kayak Academy camped on the beach with several friends. The day was complete!
13.8 NM / 11:18
Cultus Sound to Triquet Island
Aug 6 / Day 9
65˚, Clear with areas of fog clearing by noon.
Winds light and variable / Low SW swell. Seas rippled
Our friends left Cultus Sound northbound for the clamshell
beach on Soulsby Point while Dave and I wandered south without a particular
destination. We stopped in Swordfish Bay
for a snack and a look-see. While we
were there a pleasure boater anchored nearby paddled up to chat. He asked if we had heard the latest weather
update which called for strong SE winds of 40-45 knots arriving in the
evening. He said that the new forecast
called for it to hit with great force and suddenness, be short-lived and move
on. That was new since the 4:00 AM
report so we decided that we needed to choose suitable cover to ride it out and
Swordfish Bay wasn’t it.
Scuzzy Camp has been a heavily used site for many decades
and is home to Randel Washburne’s first cabin built in 1977. Aside from that dilapidated cabin it was
fronted by an ever-expanding display of garbage that folks felt compelled to
hang from the trees that lined the beach.
I first stayed at Scuzzy Camp in 2005 and it was a mess back then. Subsequent visits confirmed that the site continued
to entertain too many uncouth campers who were the antithesis of Leave-No-Trace
advocates.
I had mixed feelings about finding that Randel’s cabin had
totally collapsed and was just a pile of wood.
Other piles of garbage strewn about (broken lawn chairs, ice chests, fishing
floats, piles of rope, etc) were an eyesore but sometime between my 2017 visit
and this writing I’m pleased to say that somebody cleaned up the garbage that
was displayed along the beachfront. You
are welcome.
We set up our tents under rain tarps and called it a night. I was laying in my sleeping bag listening to the waves on the beach and the light rain on the rain tarp when a sudden strong wind slammed into trees and down onto the tarp. BOOM! Just like that we went from no wind to high winds with rain that continued through the night.
7.3 NM / 5:55
Aug 7 / Day 10
55˚, Rain
Winds SE 15 – 20 knots / Seas moderate
The next two days brought stout winds and rain. Travel on Kildidt Sound and Hakai Passage was
a bad idea so we gathered water from our tarps and bagged it.
Aug 8 / Day 11
55˚, Rain
Winds SE 15 – 20 knots / Seas moderate
Aug 9 / Day 12
60˚, Overcast
with low clouds
Winds S @ 5 – 15
knots / Swell to 2 meter with 2 foot windwaves.
Seas moderate
While preparing to launch Dave found that his primary paddle (Werner 210cm Cyprus) was broken. The shaft end of the male half had broken off when he took it apart but he hadn’t noticed. Another equipment failure. Luckily, he had a fine back up blade in his Werner Ikelos.
The paddle out across Kildidt Sound towards Stirling Island
was a bit rowdy. The high winds and rain
were past but the sea state carried the scars of weather near and far. It was sort of like showing up late to a
house party where all of your friends had already left. The house is trashed and the only ones left
are some angry skinheads in their jackboots, greasy jeans and tank tops. Neo-Nazi tattoos abound, and they are just
glowering at you. You will be able to
get out alive but they are going to rough you up before you escape. That is the sort of a go we had all the way
to Calvert Island.
We settled in at the west end of Wolf Beach and pondered our
next move. Both of us were desperate to
paddle the outside of Calvert but conditions were expected to feature our
skinhead friends for a few days and the outside of Calvert doesn’t need their help
to be big and rowdy. There is also the
issue of Blackney and Grief offering only beach camping up in the logs, which
isn’t a great place to hang out in the rain.
Then, as Dave was pulling off his drysuit he tore a wrist gasket. That gave us purpose for the rest of the day. Dave dug into his well-stocked repair kit and extracted a replacement gasket, Aquaseal and duct tape. We found that my Jet Boil stove with the neoprene insulation removed was the perfect size “tool” for that repair.
Not ready to put the tape away Dave turned to his sandals that were delaminating front and back. It should be noted that he purchased these sandals in 2004 and that this pair is the very definition of “worn out”. He was on a repair roll, so to speak, so he taped them back together.
11.5 NM / 7:26
Wolf Beach – Equipment Repair Day
Aug 10 / Day 13
50˚, Fog and Rain
Winds S @ 5 – 15 knots / Swell 1 meter with 3 foot chop. Seas moderate
Dave’s gasket repair was a success and we were suiting up
for our yet to be determined route when I noticed a tear in my neck
gasket. Oh, crap! Well, I did have a replacement gasket in my
kit and since Nazis were in the forecast, it wasn’t going to be an “outside”
kind of day, so we agreed to take a day off to repair my drysuit. The tear was in the body of the gasket and
not from the top. It was about an inch
long and I wanted to try to patch it instead of replace it.
We used more of Dave’s Carhartt Duct Tape, which was turning
out to be a fine product. We taped the
edges together and cut a patch from Dave’s failed wrist gasket. Next came Aquaseal and the patch was covered
with another layer of tape.
The day was young and the duct tape was plentiful so we tried
sealing up the joint between Dave's deck and cockpit combing where water may have
been entering.
We both read and wrote for the rest of the day.
Wolf Beach to Safety Cove
Aug 11 / Day 14
50˚, Fog and Rain
Winds S @ 5 – 15 knots / Swell 1 meter with 3 foot chop. Seas moderate
I was hesitant to find out if the repair was a success. I was afraid that the tape would be glued
down with the Aquaseal but was pleased that it peeled cleanly from both sides
of the gasket. Next I had to find out if
I could get the suit on and off without more tearing. SUCCESS!
Since Nazis still abounded in Queen Charlotte Sound we
wisely chose to go inside through Kwakshua Channel and cross Fitz Hugh Sound to
Nucleus Reef. In Kwakshua we stopped to
gather water and had lunch before poking our noses out into Fitz Hugh
Sound.
After touring the cove we found that the only obvious place
to camp was the clamshell beach at Safety Point located at the north
entrance. After 8 1/2 very tough hours
in our boats we were ready to take it.
Lots of rocks but do-able. It was
questionable if there was going to be room for a tent and if it would stay dry
so we elected to string a tarp between two large logs and spend the night in
our drysuits. Paddlers do that all of
time, right? Probably no big deal,
right?
The space between the logs was sloped and about 3 ½ feet wide. By taking the foam seat out of my kayak I had something soft and insulated to sit on. Dave sat in his Thermarest Chair. Both of us had our backs against one log and our feet against the other. Our knees were bent at about 90 degrees. PFD’s and spray skirts provided additional insulation. We shared another tarp as our blanket. I think I might have gotten 30 minutes of sleep.
19.4 NM / 8:30
Safety Cove to Cranstown Point
Aug 12 / Day 15
60˚, Clear with fog developing
Winds light and variable increasing to NW @ 15 knots / Swell to 1.5 meter with 2 foot
windwaves. Seas moderate
The morning dawned clear and calm but the low tide didn’t
allow us to launch until after 10:00 AM.
The crossing to Penrose is about 6 NM and took us nearly 3 hours as we
were slowed by developing fog and flood currents. The currents built to a ridiculous level when
we were within a mile of the lagoon entrance.
It was crazy! No signs of moving
water other than not being able to make any headway. Maybe the toughest mile of the trip.
The cabin at Cranstown was in great shape. The cabin journal indicated that a party had spent some time there just three days prior to our arrival and that the cabin was seeing about two parties per month. Since the conditions stayed larger than we wanted for the next leg which included the crossing of Smith Sound, negotiation of the Kelp Head complex and finding a strategic staging site near Cape Caution we waited for a break in the NW winds. For two days we did boat repairs, read, wrote and worked on trail maintenance. Dave also did a “permanent” sandal repair using Aquaseal and fresh duct tape.
“Seriously Dave. Pitch those 19 year old mothers and get yourself some new ones”.
19.1 NM / 10:42
Aug 13 / Day 16
70˚, Clear
Winds NW @ 15 -
25 knots / Swell to 2 meter with 3 foot windwaves. Seas rough
Cranstown Point – Weather Day
Aug 14 / Day 17
70˚, Clear
Winds NW @ 15 - 25 knots / Swell to 2 meter with 3 foot
windwaves. Seas rough
Cranstown Point to Indian Cove
Aug 15 / Day 18
60˚, Clear with fog developing
Winds light and variable increasing to 15 knots / Swell
to 2 meter with 2 foot windwaves. Seas moderate
On August 15th the winds dropped to 15 knots and seas moderated a bit. We found that a few skinheads were hiding in the near shore rocks and shoals but we made a clean escape. The crossing of Smith Sound started out perfectly with light and variable winds and glassy smooth swells.
We explored the waters around Table Island and spotted some curious deer. To the south a deep fog bank slowly enveloped the cape above Hoop Bay and adjacent shorelines that forced us to navigate by compass and sound, once again.
After an hour the sounds of Milthrop Point brought us out of our
compass-focused state and we shifted to Squint-and-Listen mode. Feeling our way along that convoluted
shoreline was nerve wracking as we tried to stay close enough that we had some hope
of visual reference yet far enough out that we wouldn’t enter a trap. For over an hour and a half we poked and
prodded our way along, straining to see and hoping that we were interpreting
the sounds of crashing waves accurately.
Bumping into the Neck Ness complex was a scary godsend as it forced a 90
degree course change amid boomers, both seen and heard, but located our
position with an absoluteness that we had been longing for. After that it was a matter of clearing “the
Neck” and searching for the entrance to Indian Cove, which was the next nut to
crack.
My turn. While the entrance was about 50 yards wide in those conditions it looked to me like much less than half of that was acceptable. Pretty invigorating stuff that required some technical paddling. Lots of ups, downs, sideways, forwards and backs. The white water stretched about 100 yards towards the beach. It amazes me what capable little craft we paddle.
14.3 NM / 6:31
Indian Cove – Weather Day
Aug 16 / Day 19
60˚, Clear
Winds NW increasing to 15 – 20 knots / Swell to 2 meter
with 3 foot windwaves. Seas rough
Indian Cove is primarily beach camping but there is a
cleared area above the beach that will accommodate two tents. That is where we spent the next four nights
as NW winds increased to 20 knots with combined seas to nine feet. Capable craft or not, those conditions were
too big and our next move needed to count.
We were next door to Cape Caution and 8+ NM from Slingsby Channel. The next attractive campsite was Shelter Bay
where we would stage for crossing Queen Charlotte Strait. Skull Cove was a reasonable distance away but
I consider it a miserable place to camp.
We were going to need a good day to get to Shelter Bay but conditions
were forecasted to stay strong for several days, possibly moderating at the
beginning of the week.
And then there was the matter of the Brown Bear.
We had spread our damp gear all over the beach to dry and
air out. Dave’s sleeping bag and long
underwear hung from logs about 20 yards from the tents. I was sitting against a log reading when Dave
said something. Not sure what it was but
there was a Brown Bear walking towards us on the beach. What to do?
Dave grabbed a big stick that was about 8-10 feet long in order to look big, I guess. I had a better idea. I donned my red Strutter and PFD in order to survive the pending direct attack. Jamming my Bear Spray cannister in my pants pocket I tried to look as threatening as possible while holding the poop shovel in one hand and my Gerber River Shorty in the other. Shouting bear obscenities and brandishing my weapons I must have been a scary sight. It got his attention and he stopped moving and focused on us. Maybe that was a bad idea. Since we were about to die I figured that I should document our last moments on this earth so that whoever found our bodies would know that we went down fighting.
Finding a pile of seal bones, he flopped down on the beach and started snacking. Snacking??!! Oh crap! We hadn’t hung our food. Dave dropped his stick and ran to gather the food and his hanging kit. Nothing like the fear of becoming a meal to make you become hurried, clumsy and irritable. I kept shouting at Dave to hurry up and he kept shouting back at me demanding status updates.
Finally the bear had his fill and got to his feet. Listening to my commonsense instructions for
what he should do next must have made an impact as he started walking our way
again. He walked on the logs with a
sure-footedness provided by claws that evolved to rip open whatever he chose
and here he came. Dave was busy being
clumsy, dropping rope, pulleys, and food bags into the salal-choked forest
floor all the while demanding constant updates as to what the bear was
doing. I thought that he was being unreasonable
as I couldn’t figure out what he was doing.
I wasn’t in the frame of mind to calmly say “Gee Dave, he is just taking
a stroll down the beach and is now 30 or 40 feet from you”. It wouldn’t have gone well but once the bear
got to Dave’s laundry and sleeping bag he took a whiff, turned sharply, and
walked into the forest. All I could
think of to tell Dave was something like “You should probably come out of there
now”.
We wore our armor and carried our weapons for the rest of
the afternoon.
As if that weren’t enough we realized that we wouldn’t be
able to cross Queen Charlotte Strait for the next few days and we were running
low on food and water. We went on bear
watch plus half rations for food and no coffee for me.
Aug 17 / Day 20
60˚, Clear
Winds NW
increasing to 15 – 20 knots / Swell to 2 meter with 3 foot windwaves. Seas rough
What a great day! Dave
found a source for water at the far end of the beach. Groundwater seeping out of the forest was
collecting in rocky depressions above the high tide line. We
gleefully gathered a lot of it and took it back to camp to filter. In celebration I made and enjoyed several
cups of coffee.
Indian Cove – Weather Day
Aug 18 / Day 21
60˚, Clear
Winds NW increasing to 15 – 20 knots / Swell to 2 meter
with 3 foot windwaves. Seas rough
Aug 19 / Day 22
60˚, Heavy fog
clearing in the afternoon
Winds NW
increasing to 10 – 15 knots / Swell to 2.5 meter with 2 foot windwaves. Seas rough
The 4:00 AM forecast was calling for winds below 20 knots
for the first time in days. We needed to
move south in order to stage for crossing Queen Charlotte Strait, but our route
had some serious objectives.
- We would round Cape Caution during an ebb and with unsettled seas.
- We would cross Slingsby Channel with NW winds and swell.
- We would cross the south Braham Island complex with NW winds and swell.
- We would do it all in fog.
Cape Caution doesn’t need any help being tempestuous. Throw in an ebb current against wind and
sizeable swell and it can be challenging.
Slingsby Channel can be a bone a chew as it inhales and exhales the
waters of Belize Inlet. Currents can be
strong and confusing long past slack tides.
My experience is that it is always weird there. The waters south of Braham Island are dotted
with rocky islets and shoals. Schooner
Channel is Slingsby’s ornery little brother and while its currents aren’t as
strong, they are persistent and far reaching.
After several days of being out of the boat exiting Indian Cove was nearly as invigorating as our entrance had been. Tide was pretty low restricting the width of the entry and enhancing the already sizeable swell. My plan to paddle away from shore for 30 minutes before turning south for Cape Caution was a good plan but we both discarded it for no apparent reason and ended up passing the cape with visual reference in spite of the significant fog. Crawling against the ebb was discouraging and physically taxing as the sea state was moderate to rough. Very sporty paddling.
Once we were finally past Cape Caution and across Silvester
Bay the fog cleared ahead as far as the south end of Burnett Bay. We remained a mile offshore and could clearly
see mist from the sizeable surf rising ~100 feet above the beach. Not the day to visit Randel Washburn’s
Enchanted Cabin. Well before reaching
Bremner Point we were engulfed by thick fog and navigating again by
compass. Between Bremner and Buccleugh
Points the grey water became confused by clashing currents and rising
wind. Several boats were fishing the
area and would appear and disappear in the fog and swell.. As we were right at low slack we chose to
land at the beach behind Buccleugh and give the flood a chance to establish
before crossing Slingsby Channel. Facing
into the NW winds and swell Buccleugh gave us a semi-spicy welcome.
Leaving Buccleugh we started across Slingsby Channel in the
fog on a 120-degree heading. Seems like
water at the mouth of Slingsby is always in motion and lumpy in a disorienting
fashion. Swell gets bent to varying
degrees creating weird crossing patterns.
After an hour of navigating in moderate seas and fog I lost confidence
in my ability to figure out where we were and turned the task over to Dave.
The next hour was one of the most enjoyable periods of the
entire trip for me. The fog became shallower,
creating a brighter environment, a little more visibility but still magic
silver light. Since I didn’t have to be
glued to my compass (like Dave) I could just follow along and take the
ride. Swell height had increased and
they were bending again creating huge reflective lumps moving in two directions
all topped with windwaves. The swell and
combined windwaves that encountered opposing current would steepen and spill creating
more reflective surfaces. A humpback
could be heard approaching from out of the fog taking three big breaths before
I spotted him about 40 feet away. His body,
encrusted with barnacles, moved in slow motion and glistened in the magic silver
light. Rivulets running down his back
added more reflective interest. His tail
rose, dripping water, and then slipped beneath the surface.
At that point, Dave had had enough compass crawling and
begged me to take over again. Following
a compass in those conditions for hours at a time is really hard to do and he
was spent. Soon enough the course he had
held for us intersected with the north end of the Southgate group, the fog dissipated,
and we entered a different world.
For hour number nine we paddled in sheltered waters but hour
number ten was back out in the wind and waves again until we rounded the point
and pulled into Shelter Bay. We were
pretty wasted.
21.1 NM / 12:25
Shelter Bay – Weather Day
Aug 20 / Day 23
60˚, Clear
Winds NW increasing to 10 – 15 knots / Swell to 2.5 meter
with 2 foot windwaves. Seas rough
The 4:00 AM weather report called for NW winds 10-15 knots
with westerly swell to 2.5 meter and 2 foot windwaves. Hearing that a crossing of Queen Charlotte
Strait would involve managing combined seas to 9 feet made it easy to go back
to sleep. Maybe tomorrow.
A 40’ sailboat motored in and anchored off the beach. Soon the owners rowed ashore to gather wood
and visit. Andrea and Kai had been
living aboard the Black Witch for 25 years.
Currently berthed in Port McNeil, Kai is a shipwright with more work
than he has time for. The couple is from
Germany, I believe, and have traveled the BC and Alaska coastlines
extensively. They know everything. They know the three indigenous families who
make the best Ooligan grease and they know the stream where the Wolves catch
the fish, eat the heads and leave the fresh kill for them to clean and
eat. After several hours of visiting
they bid us fair travels and rowed back out to the Black Witch
Shelter Bay to Port Hardy
Aug 21 / Day 24
60˚, Overcast
Winds light and variable. Seas rippled
The 4:00 AM weather forecast called for winds to be Light
and Variable. By 6:40 AM we had dumped
our excess water, eaten the last of our rationed oatmeal and headed across Queen
Charlotte Strait for Port Hardy. Skies
were overcast and visibility was unlimited.
After three weeks of bad weather and drama it felt odd to have such
great conditions for crossing.
The first 6NM to Shelter Passage took 2 hours with very little current encountered. The crossing of Gordon Channel to Bell Island was the opposite as we were immediately countering a 3+ knot ebb that ripped us off course before we knew what had happened. That turned into a real grunt as we made nearly zero headway against it. Once onto Bell Island we stopped for our last lunch. It took 3 more hours to get to our takeout at Bear Cove.
By 3:15 PM the truck was loaded and we started our drive
home arriving in Everett at 3:15 AM.
17.2 NM / 7:33
196.1 NM / 113:06
Epilogue
This was an interesting trip that was planned to be laidback with days off whenever we felt like taking one. Neither of us were in paddling condition and expected to hurt. It turned out that we took more forced weather days than in all of my eight previous BC coastal trips combined and conditioning wasn’t an issue. All days off except for one were due to high winds and seas.
Mileage:
- Total mileage 196.1 NM / 363.2 KM
- Total number of “Trip-Days” 24 days
- Total number of paddling days 15
- Average daily mileage 13.1 NM
- Shortest daily mileage 6.1 NM
- Longest daily mileage 21.1 NM
- Average time in cockpit 6.5 hrs
- Longest time in cockpit 11.6 hrs
Weather:
- During our 24 days on the coast:
- average temperature was 61 degrees
- Average Peak winds 18 knots
Seas:
- Average swell 3 feet
- Average windwaves 2 feet
- Average Combined Seas 5.4 feet
On the 15 days that we traveled:
- Average Peak Winds 16 knots
- Average Swell Height 2.4 feet
- Average Windwaves 1.5 feet
- Average Combined Seas 3.9 feet
2 comments:
Bad enough when I lose stuff, but to have someone else or thing do it for me. Krap. I'll have to get my laptop to read your adventure.
Ii
I enjoyed your tale. A good mix of facts, feelings, humor and useful tidbits for the rest of us who might be bold or foolish enough to paddle after you.
I would be very grateful if you could create your posts in traditional capitalization. It is really hard to follow a long paragraph in all caps.
Best Wishes and Fair Winds,
Bruce
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