Vancouver Island had a very strong South West blow the other day. While westerly gales and strong South East winds are more the norm, as SW of longer and stronger duration tends to produce some unexpectedly exiting water. Apparently though, a couple of young teenagers attempted to canoe on one of our interior lakes (Horn Lake), late in the afternoon that day, leaving their small island in the middle of the lake they headed for the greater shore. The canoe finally flipped 100 meters from shore - I believe. Only one of the young males, the one wearing a Life Jacket, survived. I assume the other male was a poor swimmer. The water would have been very cold. http://www.mytelus.com/news/article.do?pageID=bc_home&articleID=1555070 I mention this only because of recent discussions about PFDs. And, I hate these paddling fatalities where the deaths were so preventable. I notice the "surfs up" here and there around the world, with bigger waves popping up in places normally more placid. Case in point: http://www.surf.co.nz/media/index.asp?pressReleaseKey=1278 I've been working up to 15 hour days these days with overtime pay incentives (saving up to build a nice workshop - hopefully build a stripper kayak one day, in said shed) so have been missing out on storm paddling, but I did have a great paddle over to the San Juan Islands last weekend. While not as interesting as some of the other PW'ers adventures (yeah, like New Zealand, Antarctica, California salt-water channel crossings, etc), just being on the water away from work, out amongst some whitecaps, can be a fantasy come true for the desperate-to-paddle crowd. Log Book entry: White Cap Fringe (part 1) After a solid 5 days on vacation time, digging a 98-foot sewer line to a depth of 6-feet by hand, by Thursday night, I was experiencing exceptionally serious dissrythmia episodes (well, the spirit was willing, but the heart was weak). But I'd had enough. I'd made some pre-arrangements with US Customs in case I did want to go paddling for the weekend. So I got up early Friday morning, purchased some out-of-county medical insurance on-line, and threw my gear in the van. My wife reluctantly drove me to Island View Beach, crying as I paddled away. In an attempt to allay her fears, I wore my drysuit despite the warm temps and calm seas, took an extra Aspirin to thin my blood (prevent strokes from artial flutter/arrhythmia), and said a few extra "I love you's." I was wearing new rescue gear with newly installed rescue equipment. No worries. I gave myself plenty of time to reach Roche Harbor, which I had to be there between noon and 2:00 pm to meet the US Custom's officer. The booth is closed in winter, and I was flabbergasted by their earlier offer to have an official drive to Roche Harbor to meet me there. I was to phone if I couldn't make it. American hospitality or what? Well, in a Yellow-Alert sort of way. A non-stop paddle to Friday Harbor would have been too much for me with my health, and the ferry was down for the winter. There was a strong, full-day ebb, so rather than fight my way through Mosquito Pass, I aimed for the center bluffs of Henry Island, upstream of the current. As I left the south end of Sidney Island, I was ferry gliding at about 15 degrees. 15 minutes out, I was ferrying at 25 degrees. By half way - about 30 minutes into the Haro Strait crossing - I was ferrying at 45 degrees. Funny how that goes. (One day, I'll actually have to try starting upstream, and drift to my destination just to be normal). By the time I pulled within 500 meters of the bluffs, well, it was a full 90 degree affair, obviously. Paddling "tight" to the shoreline not only placed me in the sought-after shadows of the bluffs which alleviated some of my profuse sweating, it also allowed me to utilize some of the back eddies to pull me northward to Spieden Channel. I'd never been that up-front and personal with the Henry Island bluffs before. I was astounded with the geological formations of the rock faces. The rock pattern was all twisted and folded. No, that's not correct. It was severely wrinkled, like the face of a very, very old person. Weathered, gaunt, and weary from the tides of time. I was actually grateful for the slowing pace the tide's current had caused, bring the rock face "in my face." Doug Lloyd Victoria BC *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List - Any opinions or suggestions expressed here are solely those of the writer(s). You must assume the entire responsibility for reliance upon them. All postings copyright the author. Submissions: PaddleWise_at_PaddleWise.net Subscriptions: PaddleWise-request_at_PaddleWise.net Website: http://www.paddlewise.net/ ***************************************************************************
This archive was generated by hypermail 2.4.0 : Thu Aug 21 2025 - 16:33:36 PDT