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From: gordin warner <hmgwarner_at_shaw.ca>
subject: [Paddlewise] cankiwiskayak Victoria to Alaska
Date: Mon, 18 Mar 2002 17:41:26 -0800
Sunday at about 8:30 a.m. John Levy and I turned our boats back toward
Newcastle Island where Garth Erwin stood waiting to snap our picture. After
a few more
words we swung around for our half hour paddle into Nanaimo for our pick up.
It was somber parting.

One week ago Garth and Kevin Erwin, John, Mike and Christie from Vancouver
Island Canoe and Kayak and myself launched from Cadboro Bay here in
Victoria.  Mike
and Christie were along for the day; John and I would paddle out the week.
The weather was bad.  Gale force winds were predicted for Haro Straight
later in the day.  Our plan was to paddle out of Cadboro Bay turn west and
enter Haro St. aiming for D'Arcy Island.  Our planning came unglued shortly
after 9 a.m. - our prearranged meeting time.  Everyone was there but the
Kiwi's.  Just past ten they pulled up and with a massive effort managed
to get a months worth of gear into their boats and launched by 11:30 a.m.

I live just up the hill from Cadboro Bay and have seen storm breakers on the
beach only three times this winter. Monday was the fourth.  With a light
rain falling and the temperatures just above zero we headed out to see what
would greet us once we rounded the point and headed NW.  The winds were
blowing a steady 20 knots from the south east.  As we rounded the point the
sun broke through and we started to catch both the flood and the wind for a
fine ride.  The sun was short lived as more rain moved in.  Rounding Gordon
Head found us in short choppy seas with a beam wind.  If it had of been warm
it would have been great fun.  But the rain was relentless.  We made a short
stop for lunch then pushed on.  As the day ended we had only covered about
10 nautical miles.  As the wind increased we bailed out of the plan to cross
to
D'Arcy Island and instead headed for Island View - a popular dog walking
beach.  The beach looks directly east across Haro St. to San Juan, but there
was very little view as the rain was slashing horizontally.  Mike and
Christie said their good byes and were whisked away by their pick up almost
like magic.  They were with us then I turned around and they were gone. We
managed to set up camp and spent a wet and miserable night.  The wind howled
and played sadistic games with our one covering tarp.  First it would slap
and bang it about, then it would just sing over the tarp as it quietly
gathered water - then with a vengeance it would snap the water off  dumping
it onto my exposed tent.  I spent most of the night wondering how can I get
out of this and go home.

Tuesday morning we woke to much the same weather. We talked through the
planning session, would we stay on shore or would we push on knowing that
the storm had not yet blown itself out.  Finally we decided to push on and
try to make Portland Island and possibly Salt Spring Island.  With the
decision made everyone started to feel better.  There was a goal set,
something to achieve - still it was 11:30 before we made it on to the water.

The ten nautical miles to Portland Island with a trailing southeast wind
made for a
quick ride.  Lots of white caps, but only a small ebb.  Air temperatures
remained cool some where around 3* Celsius.  As we approached Portland it
became evident that the southeasterly was not going to abate.  This meant
we'd have to abandoned the crossing to Salt Spring Island.  We'd hoped to
make for Ruckle Park on Salt Spring but it's exposed landing site was being
hammered by waves.  While the beach around Beaver Point provides a more
protected landing it's a long way from the camp sites and would offer little
protection should the winds shift to the north east.

Portland Island was a wonderful refuge - the rain had let up.  Collectively
the spirits were much higher when we climbed out of the boats that
afternoon. We camped on the northeast point.  Be sure to pull your boats
well up the beach because ferry traffic and the following wake can easily
wash your boat off the beach. My tent over looked Swanson Channel down which
the BC Ferries cruise.  I was so close to the shoreline that I could hear
the seals snorting and snuffing to one another during the night.  We went to
bed resolved to get an early start on what would be an 18 nautical mile
paddle up to Wallace Island on Wednesday.

The early start faded like a late night dream.  Once again it was close to
11 a.m. before we pushed off the beach and once again the southeasterly
returned to push us northwest.  We made the crossing  to Salt Spring in a
sprint, rounding Beaver Pt. we started angling for the Channel Islands and
Prevost in the distance.  The wind was now blowing the tops off every wave.
Yet it was impossible to predict any pattern.  We'd catch a few waves and
ride them down, then the set and pattern would disappear.  In the shallows
just off Acland Islands the waves steepened.  Riding down one wave Kevin
slipped sideways and avoided broaching with a high brace into the wave.
Cool!  Lunch was a cold and rotten little affair on Nose Point. Fed and
relieved we were back in the boats in record time.  Late in the afternoon,
with the winds fading, we pulled into Conover Cove on Wallace Island.

Thursday was the only calm day of the trip.  So, we took it off and spent
the day hiking and exploring Wallace Island.

Friday the stormy weather was back so we of course headed for the water.
Once again an early start eluded us.  Still we made Blackberry Point on
Valdez Island early in the afternoon.  Tarps went up for a kitchen, tents
followed and we were off to explore the beach.  At the north end of the
beach some enterprising souls have built a three sided kitchen complete with
counters.  It was too far from our take out point and too late to relocate -
next time.

Friday we planned to make Newcastle Island just in front of Nanaimo.  We'd
planned this portion back on Wallace in the shelter of the open kitchen.
Unfortunately we did it late at night, in the dark and cold.  Garth figured
it to be about 10 nautical miles off.  I figured 18.  I just measured it on
my charts and the real distance is 23 nautical miles - all of it into a head
wind out of the northwest.  It was time to pay the dues for all those
favorable southeast winds.  Again the weather channel warned of Gales just
off in Georgia Straight.  Everyone wanted to paddle along Valdez to catch
the impressive sandstone cliffs.  So we hoped for an early start.  The snow
kind of put a kink in the plan.  On Friday we were greeted by an inch of
snow on the ground.  John and I quickly decided it was too cold to wait for
Garth and Kevin to load the Alaska boats so once we finished breakfast and
were loaded we headed out.  We agreed to paddle easy to let the Kiwis catch
up; as both are stronger paddlers it seemed a wise thing to do.  We should
have agreed to monitor a VHF channel just to stay in contact.  I think it
was the cold and rotten weather conditions that caused the break down in our
planning.  Still everything worked out and Kevin and Garth joined us just at
the start of the cliffs.  Did I Mention the sleet?  I think this is the day
the sleet fell.  It was certainly the day my foot froze.  At the cliffs I
sort of forgot about the site seeing part and put it into time trial mode.
The Arctic Tern really goes up wind well and I wanted to make Gabriola.
That was my bail out plan. From Gabriola my wife could pick us up and we'd
not be stuck if the weather really went to hell.

We slipped through False Narrows on a flood tide and made the seemingly
endless slog past Duke Point and across Nanaimo harbour and up to Newcastle
Island.  Unfortunately for us we still had to hump the boats up from the low
water mark.  We camped out in the group camp shelter.  It turns out the
nasty weather did us a favour.  The site had been reserved by an unprepared
scout group that had chickened out.  So we didn't have to move.  The camp
warden even let John pitch his tent on the dance hall porch.  There was some
talk of sleeping in the heated toilets.  I was cold but not drunk, so I
opted for a picnic table next to the wood burning fire box.  With the fire s
toked with wood from the warden we managed to dry out most of Kevin and
Garth's gear.  As John and I were leaving in the morning our stuff could
wait.  This was the coldest night the temperature slipped to -5* C.  The
water froze in our water bottles.

Kevin was still huddled in front of the fire like Sam MacKee when we left.
Garth stood alone on the beach with his camera.  Too me Alaska never seemed
so far away.




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