Back in the spring when I wrote about summer cruising plans, I thought I’d nailed down a few good options: the west coast of Vancouver Island, the Gulf Islands, or maybe even Princess Louisa. As time wore on, though, the Gulf Islands seemed to be the best choice and that became our “Plan A”. We didn’t know what “Plan B” would was, but sometimes that’s the fun of it.
Of course, summer came and we found ourselves changing many plans on a whim, which had us backpacking more frequently and boating less. When our window to take the boat north to the Gulf Islands for “Plan A” shrank to the point where a “Plan B” was sorely needed, we were all for making it up as we went along.
Leigh and I had always talked about taking a kayak trip, she’d never been on an overnight kayak trip and neither had I, so we figured, “let’s do it!”
The goal was to load the boats and set out towards Stuart Island from my family’s house located on the northeast corner of San Juan Island. After several backpacking trips throughout the summer, we both had our backpack loading routine down, but that doesn’t directly translate to loading gear into dry bags and then stowing them in kayaks. We got it all figured out and were soon off paddling towards the top of the island.
With the ebb running strong, I figured we’d round Limestone point and start crossing Spieden Channel and the ebb would do quite a bit of work for us, sweeping us west as we crossed. It worked perfect. Having grown up boating in this area, I really know these currents (that sentiment would fade considerably the following day with a large dose of humble pie, but I’m getting ahead of myself).
Once we crossed over to the Spieden side, wildlife was abundant and close. Seals sunned themselves, casually but a little warily eyeing us as we glided by. An adult bald eagle showed their offspring how flying is done while ravens tried to disrupt the lessons. Subtle back eddies swirled with jellyfish. Aquatic birds dove. And bait fish shimmered in the clear water below. Fantastic.
After cruising these islands and poking around on powerboats, sailboats and now kayaks, I’m coming to the conclusion that powerboats are far from the best way to experience the islands. The only thing they excel at is comfort for those aboard (when everything is working). They’re noisy and insulate the crew from most inputs from the natural world. And they throw out huge wakes.
Yes, they have ice makers, but folks aboard miss much of what’s going on around them. They can “see” the islands as they cruise along, but to truly “feel” and have a more immersive experience, try kayaking. There’s something about it that’s special. You’re low, just a couple of feet above the water, and it’s silent, so in addition to seeing things you can hear everything. It’ll change your perception of where you are.
We hugged the Spieden shore, rounded the point and headed across to Reid Harbor. In total, it took us under two hours to get to Stuart. Textbook.
When we arrived we set up camp on the Prevost side at a site balanced between privacy and view. Once settled, we headed off to walk the road to Turn Point, passing Stuart Island school along the way.
The Turn Point Lighthouse is worthy of a separate post in and of itself. There’s a non-profit that has done wonders with the museum, which now has a much better setting. The living quarters have been largely restored and it’s well worth the visit.
After making our way back to the campsite we had a nice cocktail hour followed by dinner. Leigh makes the most incredible dehydrated meals — all home made and wonderful.
In the morning I checked the weather. Bad news. A front was blowing in and the forecast wasn’t specific as to when. I think they hedged their bets. It actually hit in the evening, but in the morning it sounded like an afternoon event, right when the current was in our favor. We had a decision to make: Do we want to battle current or weather? Take a risk or (we thought) play it safe with more work. You can strategize around currents and play with them. Weather too, but I wasn’t looking forward to crossing Spieden Channel in lumpy water.
Momentarily I pondered going down the north side of Spieden, but the rip at Green Point can be miserable and there’s no real way to avoid it. I thought it was better to re-trace our course and then if we got swept west by the ebb, we could duck into Roche Harbor as a last resort. That was our plan.
With the boats packed and ready to roll, we paddled our way against the building ebb to the western end of Spieden then crept up the southern shore — alternatively enjoying small back eddies then encountering ever stronger adverse currents. We’d made our way perhaps two thirds of the way when I made the call. Let’s cross. It turned out to be a little too soon.
There was a nice tide rip over my right shoulder, but it was well behind us. As we crossed we were slowed a bit by large powerboat wakes with the current taking us back towards the straits and the tide rips. Before long we were in the rips accentuated by large wakes — confused breaking seas that washed over our skirts several times.
Leigh felt that she was at risk of capsizing only once, but paddled on and we stayed fairly close together. It was an uncomfortable 15 to 20 minutes, but we emerged on the other side unscathed and relieved.
During that crossing there was some small risk of capsizing, but with two boats we had a margin of safety. Both of us had waterproof VHF radios and could have hailed for assistance even in the water. There were plenty of (inconsiderate) powerboats that probably would have lent a hand if pressed into service. I’m not sure many of them know how truly miserable their wakes are for kayakers.
In any case, we hugged the top of San Juan and played that big backeddy between Davidson Head and Limestone point for all it was worth. At Limestone point we hugged the rock and went between the point and the reef like the mailboats of yesteryear (When I was in junior high school, an old salt, probably then in his 90s, told me of his mailboat days a half century earlier. His description of running around Limestone point inside the reef rang true to me).
Right at the point, I told Leigh to paddle hard. She did, but found it wasn’t enough — she said she had to dig deep and she slowly made her way around to a welcomed weaker current on the other side of the point. We rounded two more reefs and home shore beckoned. I beached first only to find my legs weren’t working all that well. Leigh experience the same, rising out of her kayak only to fall back into it.
The post When all else fails, go kayak camping appeared first on YachtAweigh.
from WordPress http://ift.tt/2v7GKVC
via Yacht Vacation Rentals
No comments:
Post a Comment