Nootka Sound Paddle Trip July 7 - 15/97 We started with six interested, and wound up with Brian, Trish and me. Brian has been paddling for about 4 years and has done some solo trips. He is a high volume person, paddling a Solstice High Volume. Trish just started paddling this summer and had been on one three day guided tour. She is tiny but very strong, paddling a rental Solstice. I have been paddling 6 years, in my Arluk 1.8 for the past 4 years. We borded the Uchuck II in Gold River, went to Tahsis, and back to Bligh Island where we were dropped off. We headed to Vernacci Island, in the Spanish Pilot Group. There aren't many places to pull out in the area as typically the forest grows right down to the tide mark which is vertical on a rocky cliff shore. We were so pleased with Vernacci that we stayed there and made day trips from it. I thought at first we were very isolated, and spent Wednesday poking around our watery "front yard", just paddling around what I could see, mostly because the minute I turned a point and lost sight of camp, one round green mounded island looked exactly like the next one and I felt lost quickly. This was a big reminder that there is no excuse to be so useless with a compass and navigation as I am. I have always relied on someone else to take care of that and that is unsafe as well as personally limiting. However, on Thursday, I decided to go further and watch and note carefully where I was at all times. I returned to Vernacci, by this time realizing that there was a large fishing estblishment just behind Vernacci at Nootka, several float houses on various islands, and several cabins on shore as well. Many small sport fishing boats were either going out to fish off Yuquot, or returning to camps or Gold River. On Friday, we set out for Ewin Inlet. The wind increased as we paddled north up the inlet, and small following seas were building. By the time we reached the end of the inlet, we were glad to have a sheltered rest for from the wind and waves. We reluctantly got back in our boatsafter a break in a sheltered lagoon for what I knew was going to be a hard slog through waves and slop and a by now strong headwind. Brian is big and this kind of thing doesn't bother him. He just keeps going, seemingly effortlessly, staying close to shore. He says it's easier paddling in there. I always seem to wind up farther out right in the middle of whatever's happening. Trish and I are small. I feel good in my beautiful Arluk. I felt that Trish's lovely boat was a little big for her as she is even smaller than I am. She was struggling against the wind and water but eventually got sick and tired of struggling and "let's get this over with" kicked in for her. Brian went ahead, and I stayed behind her. We slogged it out past the point and into the lee of Spouter Island from which point the return to Vernacci was enjoyable. Saturday morning we set out about 9:00 for Friendly Cove and arrived there about 45 minutes later after an uneventful and pleasant paddle over absolutely calm water, the ocean swell very gentle beneath our boats. We decided to go around the point and see if any big surf was happening. Being such a calm morning, there was very little surf, just small breaking waves on the shingle beach. We continued on and paddled to the large lagoon midway between Yuquot and Maquinna Point. After an exploration and rest break, we headed back to Yuquot. Just a few meters farther offshore were at least 50 small sport fishing boats trolling. These were the people who were on a mission from the camps or inlets to Yuquot and back each day. After an exploration stop of a couple of hours back around the point at Friendly Cove, we pushed off again, to explore the shoreline up to Nootka at which point we planned to cross over to Vernacci, but at about 3:30 Brian mentioned that as we knew, he had been feeling ill for a couple of days, and it was now really catching up to him. He decided to paddle directly for the channel between Narvaez and Clotchman Islands, wanting by now to get back to camp as quickly as possible to rest, and asked if we wanted to come along. Trish and I decided to carry on to the fishing camp at Nootka, and cross toVernacci from there, as we had originally planned. Brian left us, and Trish and I paddled along the Saavedra Islands and into Boca del Inferno Bay and Nootka, which I discovered is a very prosperous looking fishing camp. Drifting around in the small bay, the lagoon beyond the actual "boca del inferno" looked intriguing, but I did not want to risk the very fast tidal flow I knew would be rushing through the extremely narrow passage through the cliffs. Slack water would be at 6 pm and I did not want to stick around that long. I was tired by this time as well and wanted to begin the passage across to Vernacci. However. My intrepid (and naive) companion decided that she was going go through and there was no dissuading her. I told her I would wait for her reappearance, and watched as she was sucked through the passage. I spent about an hour poking around Nootka in my boat, and just as I paddled out from behind a float building, I saw Trish paddling out past the fishing camp toward the mouth of the bay. I got her attention. She said she had been unable to get out of the lagoon (surprise) but finally struggled through 30 minutes or so before slack, followed by the canoe. She did not see me right away and assumed I had left witout her. Her arms were jello, she said. I said, boca del inferno means something in Spanish. Right! The mouth of hell! I had heard of people trying to blast through surge channels and broaching and getting wedged upside down and I didn't want to experience it. Plus, one of the books on the area says, *do not* attempt to go in or out except at slack water. I had shared this with her before she went in but she didn't take it seriously. We paddled out of the small bay and began the crossing to Vernacci. I saw immediately to my great dismay that instead of the typical wind drop in early evening which results in usually calm pleasant evening paddling conditions, the wind had continued to pick up and was crossing the seas which were building behind us, resulting in big slop. I knew we had a least 40 minutes of ugly paddling to get back to Vernacci. Neither one of us liked this at the outset but we pushed out and got into it. After about 15 minutes, I realized that I was afraid. Largish breaking following seas and lots of wind and slop is my least favorite of paddling conditions. My fear was multiplied because I felt responsible for Trish, who was understandably more frightened than I was. I saw Vernacci slipping by on our right as we struggled to keep from broaching, and yelled at Trish to turn. She could not bring herself to do it, and I understood this completely, having been similarly frightened on other occasions. We decided the only course of action was to just keep paddling evenly and strongly till we reached a point of land which was on our course, which was now determined by the wind and sea. This turned out to be the larger northern Villaverde Island. We pulled the boats partially out of the water on a very small beach just inside the south point where there was some shelter. We looked at each other and shook as we sat on a log. It had taken us about 55 minutes of constant even hard strong paddling through pretty intense fear. After calming down we got back in our boats and I took us over to the lee of a smaller island and around the northerly point. We poked our bows out into Fidalgo Passage which was still ugly. I hauled out on the rocks in a tiny cove, tied my boat to a tree and climbed out on a point. By this time I was not exactly sure where we were as all the islands were really looking the same by now, even with the chart, although between us we had located ourselves correctly,it turned out. Although Trish wanted to try to paddle on, I refused to go on and determined to wrap myself in my tarp which was in the bow of my boat, in order to stay overnight in the woods on the shore. I would paddle on in the morning when it was calm. I worried about Brian worrying about us, or coming out to look for us when he was sick, but I could not face any more struggle against wind and water that day. Additionally, neither of us was 100% sure where we were. Trish did not have any extra clothes and was getting cold, and pretty well refused to spend the night with me wrapped in a tarp in the woods! She wanted to try going out around the south end of the island we were on, hoping that the water conditions might be better there. I explained how it would be even worse, but I did not want to let her go alone. Once around the point, we were able to go from island to island for a short distance, as had Trish noted on the chart, and she said she felt better doing something rather that just sitting there. The water was still choppy and there was still wind, but not like we had crossing from Nootka. Two men in a small boat were returning from fishing and I was able to get their attention with my whistle and by waving my paddle. They told us that we were where we thought we were and were on the right course for Vernacci. We paddled consistently and patiently on. I was very relieved to see the pink buoy marking our little cove as I rounded the point. Brian at first thought we had been invited to have dinner at the fishing lodge, but then grew concerned.. We both hugged Brian and with great pleasure ate the wonderful tasty soup he had prepared for us. We were very glad to be back at camp, and I was happy I had followed Trish this time! On Monday Trish and I paddled close to home, not together, but not far away either. Brian stayed in camp. We set out to meet the Uchuck on Tuesday, a fine morning. We arrived at San Carlos Point at about 2:00. Brian jokingly noted that the crew of the Uchuck had told us to be at San Carlos Point at 2:30, but had not said that they would be at San Carlos Point at 2:30. He now thought we had been told 2:30 because once five years ago the Uchuck actually made it toSan Carlos at that time on the return trip from Tahsis. Remember, he said, we were dropped off at 5:30 so it stands to reason that that is about when they will pick us up. We arrived at the dock in Gold River much later than we thought we would (the 2:30 thing; what Brian had surmised was true). The end! I have a hard time with the "save yourself" thing, but I know that I probably couldn't save anyone else, to be realistic. I have practised rescues but have let them get rusty and I am not therefore confident. And fear plus lack of confidence plus actual lack of ability to help is close to a guarantor of disaster. I would probably try tohelp anyway, and there's a chance I would be helpful, but a far greater chance of increasing the trouble. I want to be sure that if I say I will stay and wait, that my companion understands that I mean that and not to go off without me, and that I expect the same; I would not let a headstrong novice paddler set out on her or his own; I wouldn't leave my paddling companion unless he/she was injured or unable to paddle and I had to seek help. This was my first experience of being supposedly more capable in a boat than my companion. It brought into glaring focus my lack of real skills. And this was not in conditions that would faze a lot of paddlers on this list. This trip made me think about a lot of paddling related issues, including interpersonal / group dynamics. Diane *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List Submissions: paddlewise_at_lists.intelenet.net Subscriptions: paddlewise-request_at_lists.intelenet.net Website: http://www.gasp-seakayak.net/paddlewise/ ***************************************************************************Received on Fri Feb 27 1998 - 21:20:08 PST
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