the Outside Passage 2009

A chance encounter with Chuck Curry in 2007 set our minds in motion and inspired this trip that we embarked on July 17.  We were camped at the west end of Higgins Passage on July 18, 2007 when Chuck stopped by to chat.  A Puget Sound paddler, he was going solo from Port Hardy to Prince Rupert.  He had crossed Milbanke Sound earlier that day in the same dense fog that Greg had unerringly led the 15.2 NM route from Milne Island to Higgins.  After about 20 minutes Chuck paddled off towards the west.  He still had some miles to make.  We would meet up with him later in Seattle and learn that he had taken a route outside of Aristazabal, Trutch and Banks Islands.  He had intended to go outside of Porcher, also, but ducked inside because he was running out of food.  We were inspired to attempt his route, in reverse, and that is what we spent the previous two years planning.

An extremely rough sketch of our intended route was to go through Edye Passage at the north end of Porcher Island and hang a left, keeping open ocean to our right until the time came to cross Queen Charlotte Strait for Port Hardy.  We didn’t have the expectation that conditions would allow that but it was still the dream.  The BC Coast isn’t known for producing the perfect stretch of weather it would take to allow us to consider that a viable route so an Inside/Outside Route is what we ended up doing and we made choices each day as to what route to take.  We had a two week hard-date where we had to get Greg to Klemtu or Shearwater for his ferry ride back to Port Hardy so we couldn’t afford to get pinned down by inclement weather.

West Coast British Columbia

Map from Encarta World Atlas

For the benefit of family and friends Dave carried a Spot Satellite Messenger on his back and we “sent off a Spot” each morning when we launched, at lunch if we put ashore and again when we reached a campsite.  When we had no option to get out of our boats for lunch we activated it on Dave’s back or not at all.  These devices seem to have had some reliability issues, however, Dave’s worked perfectly and posted each Spot that we sent.  For safety’s sake I wore an ACR Terrafix EBIRB that we would rely upon if we required extraction.

Seattle to Prince Rupert

At 2:15 AM on the morning of July 16 Dave arrived at my house.  We loaded the truck and started north.  Two hours to Tsawwassen, 30 minutes on the dock, a two hour crossing to Nanaimo and five more driving up the island would bring us to Port Hardy.  On the way up-island we made a stop at Campbell River to pick up Dave’s fishing license and to mail the food supply for the second half of our trip (55 pounds) to Klemtu where we would pick it up two weeks hence. 

Waterfront Park

Individual Daily Meal Plan

Breakfast

2 servings of instant oatmeal             320 calories

Starbucks Via                                       50 calories

                                                          370 calories

Snack

ProBar                                              370 calories

Lunch

1 large flour tortilla                        180 calories

Landjaegar                                       190 calories

Cheese                                                110 calories

                                                         480 calories

Snack

Protein Bar                                        270 calories

Dinner

Freeze dried                                       550 – 650 calories

Daily Total Calories                         2090 calories

Additionally, I carry a jug of Hammer Gel that holds the equivalent of 8 individual 100 calorie servings.  I use this to top up between meals and planned snacks.

15 NM = 5 hours of paddling = 2125 calories burned

18 NM = 6 hours of paddling = 2550 calories burned

21 NM = 7 hours of paddling = 2975 calories burned

About Me

Growing up in Seattle.  I learned to swim, walk logs, build, borrow and steal rafts.  With two home-built dinghies, a hydroplane and a run-about I explored the lakes and shorelines of the Greater Seattle area.  When a friend introduced me to white water kayaks in the mid-70's it stuck. 

I have spent the past 20 years exploring British Columbia's outer coast and chasing down Kayak Bill Davidson's many camps while putting together bits and pieces of a route from Olympia to Prince Rupert, BC.  I don't have the desire to do it in one fell swoop so it is a trip here and a trip there.  When complete it will encompass the entire Canadian west coast.  In the meantime, it is a collection of visits and learnings as time allows.  

I recently retired after #OptingOutside as an REI employee for 47 years.  REI enabled me to hike, climb, cycle, ski, hang glide and kayak.  I enjoy writing and I am a member of Washington Water Trails, BC Marine Trails Association, BCMTA Coastal Journey Team, The Mountaineers and North Sound Sea Kayaking Association.  Currently I paddle a Sterling Grand Illusion.  When I’m not paddling I write what pleases me.

 

I also have another blog that nearly dodges kayaking altogether.  It is a smattering of things that amuse me.  Visit it here: Flashbacks - Rumors, Myths, Legends and Lies

Susan Conrad ~ Adventure Kayaker

 

Photo by Steve Cormack

I was always deeply drawn to water, despite my parents’ efforts to instill a deep fear of water in me after a cousin had drowned.  I was that blue-lipped, shivering kid at the local pool or lake who insisted, “I wasn’t cold.”  You couldn’t get me out of the water.  I spent countless idle afternoons playing with toy boats high in the creeks and ponds below our house—out of my parents’ view.  It felt like a secret, magical, and yes—forbidden—world to me, where I often found solace and healing.

I discovered whitewater rafting in college in southern Oregon in the mid 1980s. I really knew just enough to be dangerous.  The rafts were fun, but I kept watching the little whitewater kayaks, nimbly darting in and out of small river features, playing, rolling, and just having a great time. I thought, “THAT’S what I WANT to do!”  Pretty quickly, I switched from rafting to whitewater kayaking and continued to run rivers big and small for decades.  I ran a class V river once, just to say I did it.  Never again.

I was first introduced to sea kayaking in landlocked Montana in 1991, and that was a huge game-changer for me.  I immediately recognized its potential for solitude and reflection.  Transitioning from barely being able to cram a small lunch in my whitewater kayak to packing everything I needed to survive (and thrive) into the sea kayak’s watertight hatches led me to taking off for days, weeks, and eventually months at a time on wilderness kayak adventures.  I realized I had a penchant for long-distance paddling when I coerced a couple of girlfriends to paddle the entire length of Flathead Lake with me in one day. We put in at the south end of the lake near Polson, MT, and ended, nearly 30 miles later, at the small community of Somers on the lake’s north end.  I was exhausted, but exhilarated.

Flathead Lake, MT

From 1991-1999, I was a kayak guide on the big lakes and rivers in Montana.  I learned a lot through that experience, as the company’s owner taught her newbie guides a fair bit about boat control, self and assisted rescues, and the like.  I had a “somewhat solid” whitewater kayak roll, and that skill transferred to the longer, more lissome kayaks fairly easily.

But it wasn’t until I started my own kayak company that I sought out more professional instruction.  In 2000, I became an ACA Open Water Coastal (Level IV) certified instructor.  It was one of the best things I’ve ever done to increase my safety—and the safety of others—on the water.  In addition to refining all the fancy strokes, maneuvers, rolls, rescues, etc., I also learned a lot about applying those skills to REAL conditions, as well as group dynamics and learning styles.  Participating in several Swiftwater Rescue trainings put on by our local S&R as well as Wilderness First Responder courses that offered a water-rescue component, rounded out my skill set. 

Over the course of the last 40+ years, I’ve paddled the glacier-carved lakes of Montana, Idaho, and Wyoming. I’ve paddled with friends in Mexico, Belize, on the Atlantic and the Pacific. I’ve explored the Great Lakes and big rivers, from the muddy Missouri to the class-five whitewater rivers in Montana and Idaho. I paddled lagoons, estuaries, lakes, mill ponds, creeks, rivers, bays, and pools. 

I have a love affair with the Great Bear Rainforest along BC’s central coast and have completed several two-week trips in that area.  But it’s the point-to-point, long-distance hauls that intrigue me the most.  In 2010, I paddled the Inside Passage solo from Anacortes to Juneau.  At 49 years young, I was simply a woman on a mission: to see if I could do it.  I did, and it was life-changing. Years later, after rereading Audrey Sutherland’s book “Paddling North,” I was so taken by this woman’s accomplishments.  A petite, grey-haired woman, paddling tens of thousands of solo miles—in an inflatable kayak—in her 60s, 70s, and early 80s!  I felt strongly that the world needed to know more about this unsung hero, and decided I would recreate her route to Sitka, and write about my experience of recreating her experience.  So, in 2022, I set off from San Juan Island and paddled solo, approximately 1,200 miles to Sitka, largely using the route she detailed in “Paddling North,” visiting many of the same campsites, hot springs, cabins, and communities along the way that she did, as well as interviewing people who remembered her coming through many years earlier.  It was a profound experience.  I hope to have the book wrapped up in a few months. Finding a publisher will be the next challenge. Stay tuned!

What I've Learned from Adventure Kayaking and Associated Thoughts

I’ve learned to be comfortable with the uncomfortable.  Adventure paddling is going to have unknowns; that’s what makes it an adventure!  Embracing discomfort, not knowing exactly where your next campsite might be, screaming at the wind, etc., are all part of this nautical chess game.  In today’s complex world, the simplicity of facing the next challenge, of finding shelter, staying hydrated, fed, and safe, feels like a relief.  And I truly enjoy what I refer to as “wilderness nesting.”  Making a camp a cozy home for the night, and leaving no trace that I was there when I paddle away. 

I’ve also learned a lot about dealing with my fears.  When things get dicey on a trip, I’ve learned to categorize my fears, which puts them in perspective.  I ask myself if the fear I’m experiencing is a real, valid threat, or simply my assumption that something or someone might harm me.  For example, while camping in bear country my mind can go bonkers, so I have to ask myself if a bear really, truly is in the campsite.  Usually not, so I compartmentalize that fear, practice proper bear protocol, and carry on.  An on-water example could be dealing with building seas.  Fear can be paralyzing in this scenario.  But I’m not in the water; I’m still upright.  Keep paddling. Lean forward.  Stash that fear and envision myself safely landing in the lee of the wind and waves.

Becky Hardey ~ Adventure Kayaker

 

My path to sea kayaking has been a long one, as I was not a ‘water baby’ from youth.  I grew up in the South, (Texas), nowhere near the ocean.  From an early age, my passion was horses, and over decades, I participated in many equestrian activities.  At the beginning, it was 4-H programs, horse show competitions, etc.  After graduating from high school I fled Texas (I never fit in there) and moved myself and my horse to the mountains of Colorado in order to go to college.  There, I discovered the joy and freedom of trail riding exploring new vistas in the beauty of the Rocky Mountain Range.  On a pivotal road trip to Banff and Jasper Parks with my boyfriend, we passed thru the Flathead Valley of NW Montana and I found the place of my young dreams.  So, I moved again, with my horse, of course to Kalispell MT. where I lived for the next 30 years.  I continued to ride extensively, competing in Competitive Trail Riding and Endurance Riding, and many horse packing trips into the extensive wilderness areas of Montana.

“One door closes and another one opens” — One autumn day, while on a trail ride, an unfortunate incident caused my horse to fall, breaking my leg.  I was freshly divorced, and had no health insurance, so when all the hospital, surgery, and doctor bills rolled in, I sold both of my horses, horse trailer, and all related riding equipment to pay the bills.  The “horsey” chapter of my life was now over.  But something every bit as wonderful took its place.  While driving along Flathead Lake one day, I saw a group of sea kayaks out on the water and thought “That looks like fun”.  So, I tracked down one of two kayak companies that operated in the Flathead Valley, and signed up for a day tour.  As soon as I experienced the magic of kayaking, I was hooked, and a new passion ignited in me like a forest fire.

Montana actually offers lots of opportunities for kayaking with world class whitewater and many very large lakes for paddling.  Flathead Lake is the largest natural lake west of the Mississippi and can produce some very dynamic conditions.  The premier kayak business in town was Silver Moon Kayak Company run by Susan Conrad.  In addition to day paddles and multi-day trips, Susan offered a stellar program of skills progression, from basic Kayak 101 to a 5-day ‘boot camp’, and everything in between including Navigation, Rescues, Towing, Safety, Leadership, and more.  I jumped in with both feet, and participated in everything she had to offer.  Over the next few years, we developed a close friendship, and when my skills had progressed to a higher level, I was hired to help teach some of the basic skills classes, and assist her with some of the tours the company offered.  Teaching kayaking really helped me cement the skills I had learned, and gave me the confidence and abilities to start dreaming bigger dreams in regards to my kayaking future.

“And another door opens".  I continued to immerse myself in all things kayak related, but the pull of an ocean environment was getting stronger.  I thought “It’s not sea kayaking without the sea”, so when a friend invited me to accompany her on a trip to the Southern Gulf Islands in B.C., I jumped on it.  We went to Mayne Island, and my introduction to salt water was life changing.  The ocean was so ALIVE, and the constantly changing waters offered the challenges I craved.  I knew then that, as soon as the opportunity arose, I would move again to somewhere close to the ocean.  The door swung open in 2005 when my job of 23 years ended, so I made another trip to Mayne Island to get a “salt-water fix” and try to figure out what was next in my life.  I camped at the only campground on Mayne, a private place called Seal Beach, owned by Errol Fischer, who was a kayaker himself, and a friend of Brian Henry, the original owner and developer of Current Designs Kayaks.  Errol offered his beautiful waterfront property as a place for kayakers to experience the dynamic waters of Active Pass and to access the other Gulf Islands.  In one of the most serendipitous moments of my life, Errol asked me if I would be interested in property-sitting while he spent the winters doing the “snowbird” thing down south.  Wow! That changed everything for me.  For the next six years, I spent the months of October to April living at Seal Beach, kayaking the waters of the Gulf Islands.  I gained valuable experience learning to read the dynamic waters and how to negotiate strong currents.  My confidence grew along with my skills.  I began to do some kayak trips in the area.  I already had my camping knowledge fine-tuned from my hiking and horse packing trips in Montana and the joy and freedom of exploring new territory on the water was a perfect fit for me.  I knew then that expedition-type kayaking was my passion and what filled my soul with happiness, perspective, humility.  

Image by Susan Conrad

Although I’ve done many very enjoyable five to ten day trips in the San Juans and Southern Gulf Islands I yearn for true wilderness, where boats, people, homes, are not a constant presence.  

2009 - Beginning in September 2009, I began exploring areas further north.  My first extended trip in BC was thirteen wonderful days in the Discovery Island area and the first of many visits to this very ‘kayak-friendly’ place.

2010 - This was a pivotal year for me.  My good friend Susan Conrad was embarking on her 1st journey up the Inside Passage, and she graciously invited me to join her for a section of it paddling from Port Hardy to Bella Bella.  What an amazing and challenging introduction to coastal conditions.  The first day, crossing Queen Charlotte Sound, was a real ‘eye-opener’, with significant swell and just-breaking waves.  The biggest water I had ever experienced and I was thrilled.  The ten days we spent traveling this section of the coast taught me so much about what expedition kayaking was all about; savoring the good times, dealing with the difficult times, and rejoicing in the immensity and beauty of the BC coast.  I was hooked.  Later that fall, I had another coastal experience paddling Barkley Sound's Broken Group Islands.

2011 - Three summer trips, two in the Gulf Islands and one in the San Juans kept me happy but I had my sights on another, more remote area in BC - The Broughton Archipelago.  In September I spent twelve days exploring this beautiful place on my first longer, solo BC trip.

2012 - Another solo ten day trip in the Discovery Islands area, but the highlight of the year was a trip with friends to Nuchatlitz / Nootka Island.  Sea otters and ocean swell!

2013 - The best trip of that year was a return to the Broughtons with two friends, for two weeks of cruising around this magical area.  We witnessed a huge pod of 50 - 75 Pacific White-sided dolphins,  It was a memory I’ll never forget.

2014 - My ‘big’ trip that year was my first solo trip in Hakai Conservancy Area west and south of Bella Bella.  Twelve glorious days discovering the magic and beauty of the place.  Hakai holds a special place in my heart, and I would return several more times over the years.

2016 - Hakai again, with friends.  Twelve days of adventure and fun

2017 - In my desire to explore more of the BC coast, this year’s main trip was a significant one for me paddling Klemtu to Bella Bella, a fifteen day solo journey.  ‘Plan A’ was a circumnavigation of Aristazabal Island, west of Klemtu, but on arrival at the top of Aristazabal, the extended weather forecast for the exposed outer coast was just too dire for my taste.  So, I shifted to ‘Plan B’ and traveled back down Laredo Channel, then through Higgins Pass and Milbanke Sound to Dallas Island and through Seaforth Channel to Bella Bella.  It ended up being a fabulous trip despite the change, with both challenging conditions and idyllic bluebird days, First Nations cultural sites, and vistas that took my breath away.

2019 - Often after my trips ended I'm fulfilled, but I also have the strong desire to just keep going.  So, after leading a nine day trip thru the Discovery Islands for Hole in the Wall Paddling club in June, I was excited to take on my most ambitious trip yet - A full month spent circumnavigating Princess Royal Island with side trips to Rennison and Anderson Islands, Squally Channel, and Bishop Bay Hot Springs (ahhh..)! It was epic and life-changing, and an experience I will never forget.  I saw humpback whales bubble-net feeding, wolves (but no spirit bears), amazing and rich intertidal marine life, and a deep satisfaction and joy for being immersed in this wilderness setting.  Memories to last a lifetime.

2020 - Pandemic year.  Sadly, no access to Canadian waters.

2021 - The Canadian border was still closed but Alaska was open and available.  Susan Conrad and I took the Alaska Marine Ferry to Wrangell, and spent two weeks circumnavigating Wrangell and Etolin Islands.  What a great trip we had, and we got to enjoy three of the wilderness cabins scattered around the Tongass forest lands.

2022 - Back to Hakai for another sweet twelve-day solo trip.

2023 - Three of my paddling girlfriends said, “Let’s go up north”, so we planned a trip similar to my 2017 ‘Plan B’, and paddled from Klemtu to Bella Bella.  We took fifteen days, and called ourselves ‘The Slackers’ because we factored in lots of layover / weather days.  This made for a relaxed pace and lots of fun, exploring each place in depth on the layover days, and no stress about staying in camp when the weather was bad.  ‘Poker Dice’ in the evenings got a bit wild and competitive.  We kept score with shells and pine cones.

2024 - At this point, the furthest north on the coast I had paddled was Hartley Bay.  So this year, I set my sights on new territory.  Launching out of Port Edward (near Prince Rupert), I crossed Chatham Sound to the top of Stephens Island, then veered north to the Tree Knob Group - a lovely scattering of islands to explore.  But a strong weather system pinned me down in camp, so I didn’t get to do the exploring I had hoped.  When the weather gave me the chance, I traveled down the west side of Stephens Island, eventually ending up at the NW corner of Porcher Island.  When I was researching the area, I saw the immense Oval Bay on the chart and was determined to see it firsthand.  An amazing 3.5 nm long beach that stretched into the distance with complete exposure to notorious Hecate Strait.  I knew I would need a good weather window to traverse it and the Porcher Peninsula, which I was blessed with.  Kitkatla Inlet plus a cruise through the Shakes and Praeger Islands, landed me in the First Nations town of Kitkatla.  I had planned to continue down to Banks Island, but after communicating with home, circumstances there demanded a quicker return, so I turned North to work my way back to Prince Rupert, completing my loop around Porcher.  But not before I experienced a delightful stay in historic Oona River.  I finished this trip very happy with my planning and execution, a wonderful experience of remote wilderness, stunning beauty, and, of course, challenge.  To finish the summer, I accompanied three friends for their first taste of BC coastal paddling.  We spent eleven days cruising around Hakai.  It was my fourth visit there, and it was fun to witness their excitement experiencing such a new, different, and dynamic region.

What I’ve Learned from adventure kayaking and Associated Thoughts

Paddling the “Blue Highways” of the Coast requires much more than proficiency in your ‘hard skills’.  Remote locations and more extreme conditions mean that seamanship is vitally important.  I find that learning to ‘read the water and read the weather’ is both fascinating and never-ending.  So many factors influence both and can make a big difference in the success of your trip.  Experience is the best teacher.  Taking many shorter trips will help dial in the equipment and the techniques needed for wilderness travel.  Understand and accept your personal style of traveling.  Some people (like me) tend to travel solo a lot.  That requires a higher level of risk management, and a deep comfort with solitude.  It’s not everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s OK.  What is important is for one to truly understand the “why” of going to these less-traveled places. and having ‘inner strength’ can be just as critical as being able to negotiate the waves, the weather, and the times when things get difficult.  My final advice is always paddle with constant awareness.  If you are not present, you can miss the magic.

Bill Brackin ~ Adventure Kayaker

 

I grew up in an adventurous family.  When I was in elementary school we lived in a neighborhood west of New Orleans that was surrounded by woods, large drainage ditches and creeks, and swamps.  The neighborhood gang built forts, had dirt clod wars, flew kites, climbed trees, bicycled everywhere, fished for alligator gar fish, and waded the drainage ditches collecting buckets full of crawfish.  I joined Cub Scouts, went on campouts and participated in survival weekends where we had to forage for our food. 

At the age of 10 my father moved us to Ponce, Puerto Rico.  My family spent about every other weekend at a beach where my mother painted and my father and I snorkeled and spearfished.  My father restored a sailboat, and I sometimes got to sail with him.  I became very comfortable in deep water.  I also joined the YMCA swimming team.  We would often take trips to San Juan or other communities to participate in swim meets.

In 1960, when I was 13 years old, we moved to Baytown, Texas and then to Houston.  I joined the local Explorer Scout Troop and continued to camp and have adventures around the state.  Summer Scout camp was in the hill country near San Marcos along the San Marcos River.  I was introduced to canoeing there. 

After college I worked as a Recreation Therapist working with Emotionally Disturbed and Autistic children 6-16 years old.  I took the children on hikes, camping trips, and cave exploring.  While working, I continued to be involved with the two campus clubs and realized that many people were having trouble getting good equipment.  I started a business in a room of my house that quickly turned into Bushwhacker Backpacking Supply, a 4,000 square foot store with 2 partners and 12 employees.  We sold about 350 canoes a year.  One of our manufacturers talked me into buying a kayak from them, and an employee of mine and I started teaching ourselves bracing and rolling from the Kayaking Handbook of the Ledyard Canoe Club at Dartmouth College.  We practiced in a flooded quarry near the Illinois-Indiana state line until we both had “bomb-proof” rolls.  We then started expanding into progressively more challenging rivers in Illinois, Indiana, Wisconsin, and Missouri..

While running my business I got to know Royal Robbins, a famous rock climber from California.  Royal’s latest passion was whitewater kayaking, and we became friends.  He invited me to California to kayak and rock climb.  I was hooked on the big water that I discovered there and sold my business and moved to Modesto to work in Robbins Mountain Shop, and to kayak with Royal. 

While working in Modesto I got to meet a number of Royal’s climbing buddies, including Yvon Chouinard, Galen Rowell, Ed Gilette, John Cleare, Doug Scott, John Jackson, Clyde Deal, and others.  I got to kayak with Royal, Yvon, Lito Tejada Flores, Doug Weins, and my new Modesto friend Robert DeWolf.  Royal, Doug, and I ran all three forks of the American River, the Mokelumne River, the Stanislas River (before the Melones Dam went in), and the Tuolumne River from just below Hetch Hetchy Dam. Royal, Doug and I also did a first descent of the South Fork of the Merced River while it was in flood stage.  I became a very good Class IV-V whitewater kayaker.

In 1981 I moved to Bellevue, Washington and opened and managed the Marmot shop there.  I continued to backpack, ski, and whitewater kayak in Washington, but a low back injury eventually started causing me so much pain that I had to give up my whitewater kayaking.

A few months later a friend of mine who lived along the lower Stillaguamish River invited me to kayak with him from his home to Nanaimo, British Columbia.  He loaned me a kayak, paddle, spray skirt, and PFD.  I had backpacking equipment and a wetsuit.  I had no idea what I was getting into, but it sounded like an adventure!  We paddled through the cut at Stanwood, through La Conner, around Orcas Island, out to Stuart Island, crossed into Canada, and paddled the Gulf Islands to Nanaimo.  It was 8 days and 120 miles of fantastic adventures, including great campsites, lots of marine and bird life, and wonderful experiences.  And…my back didn’t hurt!  The kayak could carry three times as much gear and food as I could carry backpacking.  I was hooked.

My old California friend, Robert DeWolf, moved to Redmond, Washington from California, and I got him into sea kayaking.  He loved it too.  We started paddling from Issaquah, across Lake Sammamish, through the Sammamish Slough, down Lake Washington, and out through the Ship Canal to Golden Gardens Park in a number of day trips.  The idea of paddling the Inside Passage came up, but neither of us could afford to take off enough time to do the whole route at once.  We decided to do it anyway and connect the dots, and on 1-day, 2-day, or longer trips we started connecting our dots.  We could put together a 2-3 week vacation each summer.  Our first major trip in 1996 was from Mayne Island around Saturna Island, South and North Pender Islands, and Prevost Islands, and back to Mayne Island.  In 1997 we paddled from Powell River to Kelsey Bay, which set the standard for longer adventure trips.  In 1998 we paddled in British Columbia from Sechelt to Saltery Bay and from Kelsey Bay through the Broughton Archipelago, and back to Port McNeil. We then took a trip in 1999 from Bella Bella to Prince Rupert (19 days, 230 miles).

We decided that the full Inside Passage started in Olympia, Washington and ended in Skagway, Alaska, so we started backtracking and filling in the missing segments.  We paddled from Olympia to Golden Gardens, Nanaimo to Powell River, and then I got involved in the North Sound Sea Kayaking Association (NSSKA).  I started taking a lot of trips with them and soon became the Trip Coordinator.  I led a lot of day and overnight trips and gained more experience.  In 2009 Robert and I circumnavigated Revillagegedo Island and camped in Misty Fjords National Monument (18 days, 190 miles).  In 2013 Robert & I led a group of NSSKA paddlers from Ketchikan to Wrangell on a great adventure trip.

Since then, Robert & I have completed the rest of the Inside Passage including, Port McNeil to Port Hardy, Port Hardy to Bella Bella, Wrangell to Juneau, and Juneau to Skagway.  I have also led expeditions to Kyuquot Sound (including the Bunsby Islands, Brooks Peninsula, Spring Island, and Rugged Point), Campbell River to Kelsey Bay by the back channels including five saltwater rapids, 165 miles of the Willamette River, 149 miles through the Upper Missouri River Breaks in Montana, The Black Canyon of the Colorado and Mojave Lake in Nevada, and the Green River through Canyonlands National Park in Utah…twice.  I have also participated in an expedition to the Exuma Islands in the Bahamas that was led by another NSSKA member.

I was mostly self-taught.  My whitewater experience prepared me pretty well for sea kayaking, and the rest I learned from experience.  I practiced as much as I could, focusing on rolling, bracing, and paddling strokes.  I did learn a lot from my paddling partners, NSSKA, and pushing myself a little each new trip.  Early on I took two Coast Guard Auxiliary courses, Fundamentals of Boating and Advanced Coastal Navigation, which helped me immensely. I read a lot!  I practiced surfing in to shore and paddling out through surf until I got it figured out.

I used a wetsuit for many years until good Gore-Tex drysuits began to be available.  They were definitely more comfortable, warmer, and safer.  My camping experience also continued to develop over the years.  Water filtration systems, Hennessey Hammocks, food bear hangs, GPS, and other ideas crept into my kit.  I have always considered my best skill were in route planning, navigation, bear avoidance, camping, bracing to stay upright, and good common sense.

What I’ve Learned from adventure kayaking and Associated Thoughts

Paddle and practice as often as you can.  Experience is gained by paddling, and better decision making will result from experiences.  Muscle memory is developed through practice which will serve you well in an emergency or when you are under stress.

Bears are less likely to approach a campsite occupied by a group than a solo campsite.  They will tend to focus on spawning streams and leave you alone elsewhere.  They also like old growth forest or clearcut areas because movement through these areas is easier and preferred foods are more available.  The areas that they least visit are 100–200-year-old regrowth, since it is hard to move through and has little to offer in the way of food that they like. 

Hammocks work well in these forests, and they are also have lower-impact on the environment than tents.  I prefer Hennessey Safari XXL Hammocks with their larger tarp, and I bring a small ground cloth that I can stand or sit on while changing clothes, cooking, or organizing gear. 

Find a good tarp with catenary cut seams and pitch it first at each campsite.  Gear can be put under it to stay dry while you are setting up camp, and you can stay dry changing clothes, organizing, or just resting.  I always pack it last for the same reason.  Your group will appreciate the dry area for cooking and socializing too.

Carry batteries in multiple dry containers.  Once a hairline crack in a Pelican box flooded all of my batteries, and I had no electronics for the remainder of the trip.

My mantras have been “paddle, paddle, paddle” and “when in doubt, don’t go out”.