Early in the morning on the 16th, I woke up to very strong winds from the Northwest. Although Northwesterlies had been predicted, the winds that arrived were probably strong enough to keep us ashore another day. And they were definitely strong enough to get me out of my sleeping bag to tighten up our tent guys and take our tarp down, which was in danger of shredding in the strong gusts. I spent an hour awake wondering if the 16th would be another stationary day, eventually drifting off again around 3.
Morning dawned, however, overcast and calm. The last forecast we had received predicted Northwesterlies that would slow our progress, but wouldn't keep us from making some progress. In fact, those winds never really materialized. We received a push from an ebbing tide, and made good progress all day long.
By this time, we were running low on food from our resupply in Sidney, so we were able to stop in a small community called Telegraph Cove, where we found very limited supplies which would nevertheless get us though to Port Hardy. We also found, as Emily would say, young kids with guitars. That is, the summer tourist season is gearing up and most of the people we saw where 20-somethings evidently working summer jobs. Lots of apathy and not a lot of good information.
Nevertheless, we got a coffee and ate pancakes and were off again. A nearby RV park was one possibility for camping for the night, but we hoped to go farther and the camping did not look especially inviting.
So we pushed on, aiming for the "Alder Bay Resort," where we knew there to be RV camping. We also saw any number of good camping beaches in this section; the landscape of Northern Vancouver Island is truly well suited for kayaking. Just before Alder bay, we saw our first bear of the trip, a Black bear (which Carl remarked, with surprise, "was actually black!")
At Alder bay, we discussed continuing, but were unsure of further camping options and the tide was by this time running strongly against us and we were finally facing a bit of a headwind. On top of it all, we could see dedicated tent sits which looked vey comfortable. We decided to cruise in for a look.
We found the "resort" to ve a very relaxed campground with a nice tenting area, a kayak launch, friendly and helpful owners, laundry, showers, running water, and a food truck operated by a hilarious older couple. Just about exactly what we needed. We managed to shower, do a load of laundry, and eat two restaurant meals--three meals in a row, after our Telegraph Cove second lunch--before leaving the following morning.
Beautiful sunset that night as well.
And, to top it off, we had finally put in a solid mileage day during which we were not afraid of taking a swim.
Sunday, June 18, 2017
June 15, Weather Day
Although we had hoped that the gale force winds predicted for the 15th would come from a direction that would give us some shelter behind the North shore of Vancouver island, we discussed the likelihood that the 15th would see us grounded, so to speak. When morning arrived, it was clear that the wind was too strong, waves were too big, and Johnstone Strait was too much of a wind tunnel for us to safely paddle. I slept in until 8, drank several cups of coffee, did some repair work on my boat, and rested up. Carl, who has been doing a better job of working through his reading material, spent some time knocking out his first book, which I have now inherited.
With calm winds predicted for the following day, we hoped to make up some of the mileage we'd lost the next day; by this time, we were several days behind the apparently too-ambitious schedule I laid out in April. In the meantime, I tried not to feel frustrated by our lack of motion.
With calm winds predicted for the following day, we hoped to make up some of the mileage we'd lost the next day; by this time, we were several days behind the apparently too-ambitious schedule I laid out in April. In the meantime, I tried not to feel frustrated by our lack of motion.
Thursday, June 15, 2017
June 14, Poyntz Island to Naka Creek
On the 14th, predicted favorable winds finally arrived, though desirable calm winds gave way to 15-knot Southerlies and finally 25-knot Southerlies that made paddling a little sketchy.
An early departure, calm weather and favorable tides brought us to the entrance to Johnstone Strait early--by 11 we had gone around a dozen nautical miles and were approaching our first potential campsite for the day. After the numerous delays the previous several days fighting winds and tidal currents, a building tailwind and following seas really pushed us along, and we made great progress down the strait. By one, however, growing waves made us wonder what our next move should be; Should we push on and risk being stranded on a rocky shore by dangerous conditions with no reasonable place to camp? We considered breaking early for the night, but decided to try to cross the strait, where conditions appeared, at least from a distance, to be a bit better.
The crossing went smoothly, though we had to pass through a Macy's parade of fishing vessels and sailboats, including a trimaran running with the wind down the strait at 20 knots or so, apparently determined to run us down.
Ultimately, conditions were a bit smoother on the South side, and the crossing bought us a few hours, though conditions were still "sporty," as a Whidbey Island surfer would say. We moved quickly to Naka Creek provincial recreation area, a slightly off-kilter campground with no fee, few campers, and several semi-permanent dwellings. Debated going further, but Naka looked fine, we were nearing the end of the day by this time, and we were concerned about the morning's weather report that predicted even stronger winds in the evening.
An evening conversation with Emily confirmed a gale warning for the next day, making it unlikely that we would move until evening on the 15th, if not the following morning.
An early departure, calm weather and favorable tides brought us to the entrance to Johnstone Strait early--by 11 we had gone around a dozen nautical miles and were approaching our first potential campsite for the day. After the numerous delays the previous several days fighting winds and tidal currents, a building tailwind and following seas really pushed us along, and we made great progress down the strait. By one, however, growing waves made us wonder what our next move should be; Should we push on and risk being stranded on a rocky shore by dangerous conditions with no reasonable place to camp? We considered breaking early for the night, but decided to try to cross the strait, where conditions appeared, at least from a distance, to be a bit better.
The crossing went smoothly, though we had to pass through a Macy's parade of fishing vessels and sailboats, including a trimaran running with the wind down the strait at 20 knots or so, apparently determined to run us down.
Ultimately, conditions were a bit smoother on the South side, and the crossing bought us a few hours, though conditions were still "sporty," as a Whidbey Island surfer would say. We moved quickly to Naka Creek provincial recreation area, a slightly off-kilter campground with no fee, few campers, and several semi-permanent dwellings. Debated going further, but Naka looked fine, we were nearing the end of the day by this time, and we were concerned about the morning's weather report that predicted even stronger winds in the evening.
An evening conversation with Emily confirmed a gale warning for the next day, making it unlikely that we would move until evening on the 15th, if not the following morning.
June 13, Solitary Mountain to Poyntz Island
On the 13th, we again expected contrary winds, but conditions looked better as we got up, and we decided to try again to sneak in several miles before predicted stronger Northwesterlies arrived. We headed out with Greg, our neighbor for the night, but quickly separated, as he was (unsurprisingly) moving much faster than us.
We were able to make good progress against the wind to Whirlpool rapids, which we glided through on the tail end of the ebb before running into strong contrary winds in Sunderlin Channel, as predicted.
We had hoped to make it farther, but wound up hunkering down at a very pretty campsite on Poyntz island, which was surprisingly sheltered from the wind. The early finish left time for fishing, which was, however, unsuccessful. Were able to get a strong cell signal, however, and had another nice conversation with Emily, who helped us plan our next moves using the magic of the internet.
We were able to make good progress against the wind to Whirlpool rapids, which we glided through on the tail end of the ebb before running into strong contrary winds in Sunderlin Channel, as predicted.
We had hoped to make it farther, but wound up hunkering down at a very pretty campsite on Poyntz island, which was surprisingly sheltered from the wind. The early finish left time for fishing, which was, however, unsuccessful. Were able to get a strong cell signal, however, and had another nice conversation with Emily, who helped us plan our next moves using the magic of the internet.
June 12, Weather Day
On the 11th, we were aware that it was likely that we would be stopped or slowed by strong Northwesterly winds blowing against us, as those winds would be channeled by Johnstone Strait to the West and other narrow passages. From our vantage point at Solitary Mountain, though, the water looked okay as we departed, and we hoped to make it through our final set of tidal rapids--Whirlpool rapids--several miles away before getting hit by the wind, and were holding out hope that we might make it as far as Yorke Island on Johnstone Strait--an old Second World War fortress--that night.
The weather was not with us, however. As we headed out, it quickly became apparent that the wind was stronger than we had realized, and we pulled out of the wind to confer. We decided that the best case scenario was a long struggle against contrary winds to gain relatively few miles. Worst case scenario was a bath in cold water, or worse. We decided to turn around, and headed back to the Solitary Mountain site. As we neared the campsite, we saw a kayaker moving fast towards us; it turned out to be a strong long-distance paddler also hoping to make it through Whirlpool. He was less worried about the wind, but also wasn't concerned about distance, so although he continued on, we saw him coming back again, shortly after we arrived back at the campsite.
That afternoon, made some repairs to my boat, which was experiencing some wear on the keel line, and took a hike up the mountainside to see if we could find a cell signal. A difficult bushwhack through an old clear cut took us to a beautiful logging road, which we followed up and around the shoulder of Solitary Mountain, to a point where we were able to get a good signal. Both Carl and I were able to call home, and we were able to confirm that our decision to turn around had been a good one--we could see wind tearing up the channel to the West.
The evening before, we had received a visit from a mink in camp. No mink on the 11th, but some interesting birds and a little (unproductive) fishing; nothing but a few sculpins from the beach.
The weather was not with us, however. As we headed out, it quickly became apparent that the wind was stronger than we had realized, and we pulled out of the wind to confer. We decided that the best case scenario was a long struggle against contrary winds to gain relatively few miles. Worst case scenario was a bath in cold water, or worse. We decided to turn around, and headed back to the Solitary Mountain site. As we neared the campsite, we saw a kayaker moving fast towards us; it turned out to be a strong long-distance paddler also hoping to make it through Whirlpool. He was less worried about the wind, but also wasn't concerned about distance, so although he continued on, we saw him coming back again, shortly after we arrived back at the campsite.
That afternoon, made some repairs to my boat, which was experiencing some wear on the keel line, and took a hike up the mountainside to see if we could find a cell signal. A difficult bushwhack through an old clear cut took us to a beautiful logging road, which we followed up and around the shoulder of Solitary Mountain, to a point where we were able to get a good signal. Both Carl and I were able to call home, and we were able to confirm that our decision to turn around had been a good one--we could see wind tearing up the channel to the West.
The evening before, we had received a visit from a mink in camp. No mink on the 11th, but some interesting birds and a little (unproductive) fishing; nothing but a few sculpins from the beach.
June 11, Greene Point Rapids and Solitary Mountain
Even though the 10th wasn't a super high-mileage day for us, the late night of paddling was a bit of a trial. We got up a little later than usual, but managed to catch the end of the ebb, though it was mostly negated by a Norhwesterly wind. By the time we arrived at our next set of rapids--Greene Point--we were long past the ebb and slack and contemplated camping at the rapids, then heading on the following morning. That would have made a very short day, however, and the available tent sites didn't look super-appealing; either a flat rock that might be covered at high tide or a very uneven grassy surface just above high tide.
We decided to continue, first attempting to skirt the rapids on the East side unsuccessfully, then laboriously ferrying across through boils and shifting currents to the West side, where we were able to work up the shallows in eddies and counter-currents. The next several miles brought more of the same; slow progress against the current, before we called a halt at a beautiful and very comfortable campsite under cedars at a place called Solitary Mountain, with beach camping and flat, duff-padded tentsites.
We decided to continue, first attempting to skirt the rapids on the East side unsuccessfully, then laboriously ferrying across through boils and shifting currents to the West side, where we were able to work up the shallows in eddies and counter-currents. The next several miles brought more of the same; slow progress against the current, before we called a halt at a beautiful and very comfortable campsite under cedars at a place called Solitary Mountain, with beach camping and flat, duff-padded tentsites.
June 10, Rendezvous Islands through Yuculta and Dent Rapids
On the 10th, the big deal was to pass through three sets of rapids near the "community" of Big Bay on Stuart Island. Although the names of Yuculta and Dent Rapids and Gillard Passage don't evoke the same kind of affective response as something like "Peril Strait," they seem to have a similarly fearsome reputation, if we are to take the various and sundry guides to paddling the region seriously. Not quite the 16 knots of Peril between Chichagoff and Baranof islands in Alaska, but Dent and Yuculta routinely reach over nine knots, and generate dangerous turbulence and instability.
Our plan was to get up at six, which was close to our regular time (tough we set an alarm) in order to make it to Kelsey Point, South of Yuculta Rapids, a bit before slack (in theory around 11:30). We just made it, fighting headwinds along the way, and repeatedly stopping to avoid a tug pulling a barge which circled around and around near Kelsey Point, evidently to keep the barge under tension so as to not lose control. Made sense, of course, but he kept crossing our path, and as we didn't want to get tug boated or barged, we stayed clear for a long time.
In the end, our run of Yuculta was fine. We just made the tail end of the ebb, which gave us a nice push through the short section. No issues, though we did encounter significant boils and small whirlpools; easy to imagine that the rapids are pretty hairy at full current. What we experienced reminded me a bit of some of the faster sections of the Yukon between Whitehorse and Dawson; lots of boils and eddies, but not much whitewater.
Our five or six hour stop in Big Bay was low key. There are a number of all-inclusive luxury fishing lodges, but not much in the way of services for paddlers. A post office/general store with showers and laundry where a lot of paddlers seem to get permission to camp on the lawn. The store seems to be a liquor store as much as anything, though we were able to get some soda and ice cream. In general, though, it was a pleasant rest stop where we were able to sit in the sun or (when it briefly rained) under an enormous covered porch area, and where we paid for showers and snacked. Lots of friendly passers-by as well. We were invited to a bonfire and got lots of questions about our trip. Nice place.
We hit the water again around five, hoping to catch slack through Gillard Passage and Dent. Wound up waiting another 40 minutes or so for the current to slow enough to get through Gillard, then fought some wicked head winds on our way to Dent, maybe a mile away. Probably took us most of an hour to get there, despite the current turning in our favor, and we felt more push against us from the wind for the rest of the evening than we felt the favorable tidal current.
Our objective was a campsite of the Northeastern tip of Thurlow Island, several miles up the channel. We made the site by sunset around nine, after a particularly strong push against wind the last mile or two, as channels opened to the South and North. By comparison, our campsite was calm and even a bit buggy. It was set up for use as a lunch stop by commercial whale-watching groups, so we weirdly shared the site with about a dozen picnic tables and several gas-fired barbecue grills, as well as a commercial crab boat and crew, tied up to a float. The crabbers watched us from their boat as we paddled in--I wondered what they were thinking, but when I waved, they waved back.
Our plan was to get up at six, which was close to our regular time (tough we set an alarm) in order to make it to Kelsey Point, South of Yuculta Rapids, a bit before slack (in theory around 11:30). We just made it, fighting headwinds along the way, and repeatedly stopping to avoid a tug pulling a barge which circled around and around near Kelsey Point, evidently to keep the barge under tension so as to not lose control. Made sense, of course, but he kept crossing our path, and as we didn't want to get tug boated or barged, we stayed clear for a long time.
In the end, our run of Yuculta was fine. We just made the tail end of the ebb, which gave us a nice push through the short section. No issues, though we did encounter significant boils and small whirlpools; easy to imagine that the rapids are pretty hairy at full current. What we experienced reminded me a bit of some of the faster sections of the Yukon between Whitehorse and Dawson; lots of boils and eddies, but not much whitewater.
Our five or six hour stop in Big Bay was low key. There are a number of all-inclusive luxury fishing lodges, but not much in the way of services for paddlers. A post office/general store with showers and laundry where a lot of paddlers seem to get permission to camp on the lawn. The store seems to be a liquor store as much as anything, though we were able to get some soda and ice cream. In general, though, it was a pleasant rest stop where we were able to sit in the sun or (when it briefly rained) under an enormous covered porch area, and where we paid for showers and snacked. Lots of friendly passers-by as well. We were invited to a bonfire and got lots of questions about our trip. Nice place.
We hit the water again around five, hoping to catch slack through Gillard Passage and Dent. Wound up waiting another 40 minutes or so for the current to slow enough to get through Gillard, then fought some wicked head winds on our way to Dent, maybe a mile away. Probably took us most of an hour to get there, despite the current turning in our favor, and we felt more push against us from the wind for the rest of the evening than we felt the favorable tidal current.
Our objective was a campsite of the Northeastern tip of Thurlow Island, several miles up the channel. We made the site by sunset around nine, after a particularly strong push against wind the last mile or two, as channels opened to the South and North. By comparison, our campsite was calm and even a bit buggy. It was set up for use as a lunch stop by commercial whale-watching groups, so we weirdly shared the site with about a dozen picnic tables and several gas-fired barbecue grills, as well as a commercial crab boat and crew, tied up to a float. The crabbers watched us from their boat as we paddled in--I wondered what they were thinking, but when I waved, they waved back.
June 9, Homfray Creek to the Rendevous Islands
Homfray Creek was the first site of the trip where we really had any thoughts about bears--some old bear scat on the logging road be we camped on--but no real worries, though we did hang a bear bag to keep some of our light, food-smelling items out of reach of raccoons and other similar nighttime visitors. All of our food fit pretty easily in our bear cans and ursack by this time.
June 9th was another pretty high-mileage day, during which we managed to make it as far as the Rendezvous Islands, after more beautiful travel through deep fjords, and after a stop on Raza Island, where we found a suitable campsite. However, after the previous night, we felt we could do better, so plugged on to the Rendezvous Islands, which we knew to have good campsites, even if they were somewhat out of our way. The extra mileage was worth it! We found a site on a pretty peninsula with mossy, grassy flat spots to locate the tent, and a beautiful view up Calm Channel to the North. Of course, when I say "found," I mean, "found with the help of data available from the excellent BC Marine Trails web site, which includes GPS coordinates and a map for known kayak campsites."
June 9th was another pretty high-mileage day, during which we managed to make it as far as the Rendezvous Islands, after more beautiful travel through deep fjords, and after a stop on Raza Island, where we found a suitable campsite. However, after the previous night, we felt we could do better, so plugged on to the Rendezvous Islands, which we knew to have good campsites, even if they were somewhat out of our way. The extra mileage was worth it! We found a site on a pretty peninsula with mossy, grassy flat spots to locate the tent, and a beautiful view up Calm Channel to the North. Of course, when I say "found," I mean, "found with the help of data available from the excellent BC Marine Trails web site, which includes GPS coordinates and a map for known kayak campsites."
June 8, Copeland Islands to Homfray Creek
Headed out fairly efficiently this AM, after a windy night. Rained all morning, but the Copelands were as pretty in the rain as they were in the sun the afternoon before. Paddled into Desolation Sound with the help of some Southeasterly wind, which then turned East as we rounded the Malaspina Peninsula. Suddenly, I felt like I was back in the fjords of SE Alaska!
Actually, that's not quite right. We were still seeing salal and Arbutus, and the mountains were, if anything, more dramatic than those in Southeast. A bit more like the rapidly eroding cliffs of Kauai, but with snow at the top. Beautiful.
Fought the breeze for a while, then it wheeled around again as we approached our first potential campsite, mid-afternoon. Campsite looked a little grim, so we decided to keep moving, especially as we were getting a good push from the wind and paddling through the absolutely stunning scenery really beat shivering in a wet, windy campsite.
Wound up staying at a marginal
Campsite several miles further on, at a place called Homfray Creek. The campsite is located on an old logging road overgrown with alders, and across the creek from an operating logging camp. The haulout was terrible, too--probably an old log slide--but we were happy to have a flat, protected, and by this time relatively dry camp for the night.
Four thumbs up on Desolation Sound, two thumbs down on Homfray Creek.
Actually, that's not quite right. We were still seeing salal and Arbutus, and the mountains were, if anything, more dramatic than those in Southeast. A bit more like the rapidly eroding cliffs of Kauai, but with snow at the top. Beautiful.
Fought the breeze for a while, then it wheeled around again as we approached our first potential campsite, mid-afternoon. Campsite looked a little grim, so we decided to keep moving, especially as we were getting a good push from the wind and paddling through the absolutely stunning scenery really beat shivering in a wet, windy campsite.
Wound up staying at a marginal
Campsite several miles further on, at a place called Homfray Creek. The campsite is located on an old logging road overgrown with alders, and across the creek from an operating logging camp. The haulout was terrible, too--probably an old log slide--but we were happy to have a flat, protected, and by this time relatively dry camp for the night.
Four thumbs up on Desolation Sound, two thumbs down on Homfray Creek.
Sunday, June 11, 2017
June 7, Blubber Bay to the Copeland Islands
Headed out of Blubber Bay after a solid night's sleep, and island-hopped to the BC mainland (first time on the Canadian mainland on the trip!). Made good time all day long, even with a short stop in the small community of Lund to stock up on snacks. A vey hot day, but a good one that ended with a beautiful night at one of the lovely BC Parks campsites in the Copeland Islands, South of Desolation Sound. Started to sprinkle in the evening as we made dinner, so set up the tart (another first of the trip) and watched the vessel traffic go by. Another beautiful evening with views of glaciated peaks on Vancouver Island.
June 6, Shingle Beach to Blubber Bay
Lord only knows why it's called "Blubber Bay"!
A long but fairly uninteresting day. Paddled the Texada shore West, putting in a goodly number of miles before a late finish at the far Northwest tip of Texada. Favorable weather (hot!), but a slightly depressing campsite at the end of the day--seemed to be a dumping ground for waste rock from a road project or mine or something. Absolutely stunning sunset, though.
A long but fairly uninteresting day. Paddled the Texada shore West, putting in a goodly number of miles before a late finish at the far Northwest tip of Texada. Favorable weather (hot!), but a slightly depressing campsite at the end of the day--seemed to be a dumping ground for waste rock from a road project or mine or something. Absolutely stunning sunset, though.
June 5, Ballenas Islands to Shingle Beach, Texada Island
In order to make the long crossing (about seven miles) from the Ballenas to Lasqueti and Texada Island, we woke up unreasonably early (for both of us!), which was about 4 AM. Managed to make it out by 5:30, with the idea that we would be across the Strait of Georgia by the time the wind would have a chance to pick up and build waves that would cause us trouble. Plan mostly worked--winds were already rolling in when we left the campsite, but we were able to make it across with only some sore muscles in about two hours. Pulled off for a very cold breakfast in a little cove on the East end of Lasqueti, then headed around through confused and building seas to Jedediah Island, in between Texada and Lasqueti. The whole area was quite beautiful!
We got a nice push from the wind and the tide much of the morning, and wound up camping about a third of the way up Texada, at a community campground called Shingle Beach. Beautiful place and friendly folks, even if some of them looked a little sketchy at first! No potable water available, and the privy was a little... rough around the edges. But really, what do you need?
We got a nice push from the wind and the tide much of the morning, and wound up camping about a third of the way up Texada, at a community campground called Shingle Beach. Beautiful place and friendly folks, even if some of them looked a little sketchy at first! No potable water available, and the privy was a little... rough around the edges. But really, what do you need?
June 4, Nanaimo to Ballenas Islands
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| Nearing the Ballenas Islands |
I guess the one remarkable thing is that the Ballenas Islands have a recognized kayak campsite, but also are located in a military weapons testing area (apparently they test torpedoes?) so we were hoping we weren't about to get chased away by the Canadian Navy. But we had no problems--in fact, didn't see anyone out there except for a couple of fishermen enjoying the harbor with us.
June 2-3, Wallace Island to Nanaimo
Two relatively short days. On the second, we had a short and very pleasant paddle, mostly with a tailwind, from Wallace Island to the Provincial Marine Park at Pirate's Cove on DeCourcy Island. Pirate's Cove is A beautiful provincial marine park that gets a lot of traffic from yachts and small boats.
The third was another relatively short day. Left Pirate's Cove at a leisurely hour, and paddled with the tide through to Newcastle Island, off Nanaimo. Rode the tail end of the flood through False Narrows, in order to avoid the apparently very busy Dodd Narrows with their associated strong currents. No problems at all.
The day got warmer and clearer in the afternoon, as we passed industrial development East of Nanaimo, including lots of log booms and tugs moving rafts. Then, beautiful sailboats, including some classic, gaff-rigged craft in the Nanaimo marinas and moored in the harbor.
Newcastle Island has a very convenient passenger ferry that makes it possible to quickly cross to downtown Nanaimo (such as it is), so we headed over about mid-afternoon, stocked up on some things we were short on (sugar, snacks and a few other necessities) and got a passable dinner at a local fish and chips place. The area has a very beautiful waterfront park which was getting a lot of traffic, but not much else going on in the waterfront area. A little disappointed, actually.
Headed back to Newcastle around 7, and had a nice night.
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| Pirate's Cove |
The day got warmer and clearer in the afternoon, as we passed industrial development East of Nanaimo, including lots of log booms and tugs moving rafts. Then, beautiful sailboats, including some classic, gaff-rigged craft in the Nanaimo marinas and moored in the harbor.
Newcastle Island has a very convenient passenger ferry that makes it possible to quickly cross to downtown Nanaimo (such as it is), so we headed over about mid-afternoon, stocked up on some things we were short on (sugar, snacks and a few other necessities) and got a passable dinner at a local fish and chips place. The area has a very beautiful waterfront park which was getting a lot of traffic, but not much else going on in the waterfront area. A little disappointed, actually.
Headed back to Newcastle around 7, and had a nice night.
Thursday, June 1, 2017
June 1, Portland Island to Wallace Island
After a very pleasant evening and morning on Portland Island, Carl and I launched and headed Northwest, towards Beaver Point on Saltspring Island. We took a short break at Ruckle Provincial Park--looked like a very nice place to camp--then headed through Swanson Channel and across to Prevost Island through Captain Passage. Wind was calm as we progressed across to Montague Harbor on Galiano Island, where we took another break, then began to pick up, from the West, as we continued on to Wallace Island, where we planned to camp. The remainder of the day--about eight miles--took several hours as we struggled against the wind and chop.
We initially planned to stay at Conover Cove Campground on Wallace, landing on the North side of the island, based on data available at the BC Marine Trails Network web site. However, when we located the Northern landing site, we found that it was really to far to carry our things, so we continued on to the Cabin Bay, though we were very tired and the wind continued to blow.
In the end, we were glad we did. The campsite is on a beautiful peninsula that connects to a near-island (possibly an island at very high tides) and which has pretty slot beaches on either side. Also, there were tent platforms and although there was no food cache, we had no trouble bear-bagging our food (we had two bear kegs and an Ursack, but with sixteen days of food, couldn't fit everything). Necessary, in this case, because of an almost unbelievable number of raccoons.
That evening, we also saw clam worms in the water, and jellyfish and barnacles lit up by bioluminescent algae--the first time I had seen the phenomenon outside of an aquarium. One of the nicest campsites of the summer. BC Parks does a great job.
We initially planned to stay at Conover Cove Campground on Wallace, landing on the North side of the island, based on data available at the BC Marine Trails Network web site. However, when we located the Northern landing site, we found that it was really to far to carry our things, so we continued on to the Cabin Bay, though we were very tired and the wind continued to blow.
In the end, we were glad we did. The campsite is on a beautiful peninsula that connects to a near-island (possibly an island at very high tides) and which has pretty slot beaches on either side. Also, there were tent platforms and although there was no food cache, we had no trouble bear-bagging our food (we had two bear kegs and an Ursack, but with sixteen days of food, couldn't fit everything). Necessary, in this case, because of an almost unbelievable number of raccoons.
That evening, we also saw clam worms in the water, and jellyfish and barnacles lit up by bioluminescent algae--the first time I had seen the phenomenon outside of an aquarium. One of the nicest campsites of the summer. BC Parks does a great job.
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