The journey from Prince Rupert to Shearwater (like all the other legs) presented new and old challenges. This was the longest leg of our trip distance-wise, we covered close to 200 miles in 12 days.
We left our cozy, almost too easy hostel in Prince Rupert in the hot sun and calm winds. But as the third day came and we entered narrow, cliffy Grenville Channel the clouds rolled in. The following week of paddling offered beautiful narrow channels, waterfalls cascading and crashing into the current driven ocean and scarce landing or camping opportunities. We were also entering the rainiest (by far) area of our trip known as the Great Bear Rainforest, home to the rare white black bear, the kermode, or spirit bear.
We heard that these channels had strong currents, lots of rain, and funneled wind. We heard right. Here are some highlights (and lowlights):
Two small human outposts broke up the wilderness. We stopped in the ruins of an old village called Butedale. We slept on a concrete slab and reloaded our water supply. The caretaker sees most parties that are paddling the inside passage each year and has been doing so for the last ten years. He told us we were the first he's seen going north to south this season and only a handful have come through heading north. It has been a slow season. The first stop after the narrow channels was a small fishing and tourism village of about 450 called Klemtu. We camped at their "campground", the gravel parking lot next to a drainpipe and the tourism office. But after a week of rain the sun came out and we got to dry our gear and ourselves.
One day after it had been raining for about 3 or 4 days already we pulled up to a rocky beach after a long day of fighting current in Grenville Channel. We set our tent up with our tarp over it amidst the driftwood at the top of the beach. We made some mac and cheese and went to sleep soundly at 8:30 ready for a good night of sleep to wake at 3:30 so we could be on the water at dawn. At about 1:00 AM I woke up to the subtle lapping sound of water. I casually glanced out of the tent and saw reflections on the sand.
"That's weird" I thought. I reached out and found about 2-3 inches of water just outside the tent. It had been raining all night and still was and at first I thought maybe a puddle had built up. I looked out the other side of the tent.
Yep...you guessed it...we miss judged the high tide and us, our tent and all of our stuff were floating in the ocean. I think I will have nightmares about what that realization felt like for a long time. We quickly through all our stuff up onto the drift logs in the pouring rain. We made sure we at least had all of our stuff, even though it was now soaking wet. The tide then shortly went back out and we reset up our drenched gear in the exact same place and laid in our sleeping bags for another 2 hours before we set off.
That was probably the worst experience I have had yet on this trip. But 4 days later the sun came out and we got to dry our stuff and it all ended up being fine. Also that morning we got to experience one of the coolest things we've seen. Another humpback feeding about 20 feet away from us, multiple times this time, and we recorded it too! They are big...
Once we left Klemtu the weather was pretty nice again and we had just a couple days to Shearwater. As we were listening to the extended forecast though we heard a huge storm coming in. Gale warnings all along the coast, as much as 40 knot winds predicted. So we ended up combining our last two days into one (helped by no wind and perfectly timed currents) and paddled 27 miles to beat the storm.
All and all it was an amazing leg, we saw some beautiful forest, cliffs and waterfalls. We managed the rain and our aching bodies during a week of long paddling days. Except for waking up in the ocean we had high spirits the whole time. And now the storm is definitely here, we are eating in the restaurant relaxing in our hotel and watching the flags violently whip in the wind and we are glad we are waiting out the storm and not out in it. Hopefully tomorrow morning we can set off for the crux of the trip, another long (11-12 days or more depending on weather) through more open ocean and around Cape Caution to the east side of Vancouver Island.
(P.S. this is one of the oldest, slowest computers ever and we will not be able to upload photos...hopefully next time!)
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Oh, Canada!
Our departure from Ketchikan was met with high winds, rain, and choppy water, and the first 3 days of the trip only resulted in 26 miles of progress. We had to settle for last-minute, improvised campsites when conditions deteriorated, and we were sure we'd be behind schedule getting into Prince Rupert. A few days of gorgeous weather turned everything around, though, and we quickly made up for lost time (60 miles in 3 days) and arrived a day early! It's amazing what a difference good weather can make, and this weather provided some of our best days of kayaking yet.
The good weather came just in time, too, as we approached Dixon Entrance, the first open-ocean section of the trip. About 12 miles of coast, from Foggy Point to Cape Fox, are completely exposed to the Pacific, and the more "protected" sections to the north and south are still subject to swell. We passed through Foggy Bay (the last bit of shelter before the Big Scary Part) on a calm, sunny afternoon and decided that the weather was nice enough to head around the point before setting up camp. The next morning we set out on silky smooth water under a deep pastel surise. It was going to be a good day. Hardly a crashing wave was to be heard as we paddled through the gentle swell, past fishing boats and harbor seals. The peaceful morning opened up into a beautiful, sparkling sunny day of benign seas and gorgeous paddling. We couldn't believe how lucky we were to experience such an amazing day. A day that pries your heart wide open and stuffs the whole universe inside. Humpbacks and sea lions escorted us along the coast, past our intended stopping point, on and on across the border into Canada. 24 miles after we set out for the day, we touched down on the white sand beaches of Boston Island, BC. We enjoyed some relaxing, some dinner, and some sleep before waking up under a clear starry sky to enjoy another day of perfection.
After a smooth early morning crossing of Portland Inlet, we were headed around a point where a rocky reef had been exposed at low tide. We had seen humpback spouts rising from the other side of the rocks, but the whale seemed to be moving across our path. By the time we got around the point, it would probably be off in the distance...
As we came around the rocks the water in front of us started to bubble. Smallish bubbles at first, then larger ones, quickly rising to the surface.
"Is that a fish?"
The bubbles started to form a large circle.
"Um, I think that's a whale."
It's a funny thing to be in a tiny boat and realize that a giant whale is right beneath you.
Just as we started to back paddle, a giant, black head burst through the middle of the bubble net, ribbed throat stretched wide. The humpback turned, crashing down into the water and raising a long pectoral fin into the air. The fin slapped the surface as the whale sank back down, and then quiet ripples were the only indication that anything had been there at all. All of this happened in about 3 seconds, maybe 10 feet in front of our kayaks. A mix of amazement, excitement, and panic sent our hearts racing as we tried to move out of the way, closer to shore, wondering where he would pop up next. A minute or so later we saw him again. Still close, but moving behind us into open water as we headed around a corner. With wide grins on our faces we paddled on in disbelief. Just another day on the Inside Passage.
The good weather came just in time, too, as we approached Dixon Entrance, the first open-ocean section of the trip. About 12 miles of coast, from Foggy Point to Cape Fox, are completely exposed to the Pacific, and the more "protected" sections to the north and south are still subject to swell. We passed through Foggy Bay (the last bit of shelter before the Big Scary Part) on a calm, sunny afternoon and decided that the weather was nice enough to head around the point before setting up camp. The next morning we set out on silky smooth water under a deep pastel surise. It was going to be a good day. Hardly a crashing wave was to be heard as we paddled through the gentle swell, past fishing boats and harbor seals. The peaceful morning opened up into a beautiful, sparkling sunny day of benign seas and gorgeous paddling. We couldn't believe how lucky we were to experience such an amazing day. A day that pries your heart wide open and stuffs the whole universe inside. Humpbacks and sea lions escorted us along the coast, past our intended stopping point, on and on across the border into Canada. 24 miles after we set out for the day, we touched down on the white sand beaches of Boston Island, BC. We enjoyed some relaxing, some dinner, and some sleep before waking up under a clear starry sky to enjoy another day of perfection.
After a smooth early morning crossing of Portland Inlet, we were headed around a point where a rocky reef had been exposed at low tide. We had seen humpback spouts rising from the other side of the rocks, but the whale seemed to be moving across our path. By the time we got around the point, it would probably be off in the distance...
As we came around the rocks the water in front of us started to bubble. Smallish bubbles at first, then larger ones, quickly rising to the surface.
"Is that a fish?"
The bubbles started to form a large circle.
"Um, I think that's a whale."
It's a funny thing to be in a tiny boat and realize that a giant whale is right beneath you.
Just as we started to back paddle, a giant, black head burst through the middle of the bubble net, ribbed throat stretched wide. The humpback turned, crashing down into the water and raising a long pectoral fin into the air. The fin slapped the surface as the whale sank back down, and then quiet ripples were the only indication that anything had been there at all. All of this happened in about 3 seconds, maybe 10 feet in front of our kayaks. A mix of amazement, excitement, and panic sent our hearts racing as we tried to move out of the way, closer to shore, wondering where he would pop up next. A minute or so later we saw him again. Still close, but moving behind us into open water as we headed around a corner. With wide grins on our faces we paddled on in disbelief. Just another day on the Inside Passage.
Pictures!! Ketchikan to Prince Rupert, BC
Greetings from Canada! Here are a few pics from the past week. Stay tuned for more highlights.
Strolling along Creek Street in Ketchikan
Making couscous on a stormy evening on the approach to the Dixon Entrance
Rainbows and purse seiners at 5 a.m.
Cool root mass on teeny weeny Black Island
A lovely evening at Foggy Point...what ocean swell?
Leaving Foggy Point at dawn
Staking our claim in Canada! (Boston Island)
Cow Bay, Prince Rupert, BC
Always on the lookout for cool rocks
Strolling along Creek Street in Ketchikan
Making couscous on a stormy evening on the approach to the Dixon Entrance
Rainbows and purse seiners at 5 a.m.
Cool root mass on teeny weeny Black Island
A lovely evening at Foggy Point...what ocean swell?
Leaving Foggy Point at dawn
Staking our claim in Canada! (Boston Island)
Cow Bay, Prince Rupert, BC
Always on the lookout for cool rocks
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