The Gulf Islands Expedition – the story told:

The trip to kayak the waters around Canada's Vancouver Island eventually settled on the eastern shores, after a few attempts at coordinating a trip to the Broken Islands on the western coastline. With a game plan that addressed the age old question "Where can I go for a three day weekend for some great paddling and not burn up any vacation time while not getting buried in lines with all of my countrymen on a national holiday ? ", we committed to paddling through the Canadian Gulf Islands, from Nanaimo to somewhere near Victoria.

With the extensive kayaking experience of the group(we had several who were
in kayaks on the saltwater for the first time), I thought it would be a good
idea to go up early to scope out the course. The charts were right, it was
covered with water. Jim Gibson and I went up early on Thursday night, so
that we could secure a camp site and determine any information that wasn't
clear on the charts (including the multi hour differences in current
predictions between the different tables we bought). Departure from Seattle
went without a hitch and we were on the road north by 2pm. As we neared the
border in Blaine we got caught in a heavy back-up, and we still had another
mile to go. It looked like a slow start was well under way (little did we
know what was going to come next), after about three minutes of stop and go
traffic, we saw the problem, a line of police cars, lights flashing, that
were funneling all the cars into one lane. They were doing drug searches on
the US side of the border (that's when we found out that Coke was just as
legal as Pepsi). They asked us a few questions and let us go on our way
(with three kayaks on the roof and the trucks bed full of gear, they still
asked the purpose of our trip - Jim thought about saying "just going to get
some recreational drugs sir", good thing he didn't. The DEA police, probably
figuring that they'd rather have us in Canada paddling than in the bars
stateside drinking waved us through.

We thought, cool, we still can make the early ferry.
WWWWRRRROOOONNNNGGGG!!!, our next stop (about 200 meters up the road) was
the Canadian customs booth. The words "could you pull over by the office for
an inspection of your vehicle" never seem to have a friendly ring no matter
how much they smile. We pulled ahead to the search area alongside a vehicle
that was being disassembled while a drug sniffing dog went through all the
pieces. I said "Jim, I don't think our chances for catching the early ferry
look too good". Jim, not being worried, (it was my vehicle after all), took
off his sunglasses and asked the customs agent if she knew where he could
find a cash machine while she was searching the vehicle. She probably
thought he wanted to get an early start on posting bail. After she
methodically went through everything in my cab (including the three dead
pagers, that I keep meaning to return for a refund) and then through the dry
gear bags, I imagined our doing hard time for alcohol and food smuggling,
fortunately zero tolerance doesn't seem to apply for that. After what seemed
like an eternity (probably about 25-30 minutes) she helped us re-pack our
bags, we thanked her, sang the Canadian National anthem (actually, I have
forgotten most of it since college, and Jim being from California probably
hadn't heard that they had one) and drove off, happily on our way to Twassen
and our date with the Queen of Alberni (the name of our ferry).

After a hasty 30 minute packing job I had the two kayaks I was bringing
strapped together and ready to go. Jim had his boat loaded as well. By the
time I got to the ticket booth I discovered that those folding wheel sets
don't hold the weight of two loaded kayaks very well (the wheel had come
apart twice). By the time we had covered the 3/4 mile from the truck to the
ferry I was wishing that I not only had lighter boats, but that I hadn't
agreed to bring Margarets' for her. Well, we we're on board now, so we knew
it was time for a beer and dinner and off we went to the ships lounge. The
two hour ride was nice, with a concert going on at one end of the boat, by
Nora Lynn?? a Canadian country/folk singer.

We arrived in Nanaimo around 8:30 and started the "where can we launch"
journey. All I knew was that it was "up ahead and to the left". After about
fifteen minutes of grunting and groaning, and a few false turns to 10 foot
boulder drops, we finally found the launch. I knew Newcastle Island was
close to Nanaimo, but this redefined close - about 100 meters. Of course our
campsite was somewhere on the other side of the island so we paddled the 20
minutes around to the other side. It was getting dark, and then we saw the
tents. We quickly pulled up onto the shore, and set up camp (we wondered why
the camp sites weren't marked, but figured "it's Canada, they don't worry
about marked camp sites"). Once we got the boats up high enough (17 feet
between high & low tides, means about 100 feet of beach), I went to scope
out the facilities - plush, was the operating word here. I not only found
running water, but a pay phone (that meant I didn't have to paddle back to
Nanaimo in the dark to call Seattle and pass on the location of our camp to
tommorows group), and showers (that would make our fellow campers happy). I
made a quick dinner, and Jim commented on the fact that it sure was nice
that there weren't any bears for us to worry about.

After a good nights sleep I got up at about 7 and went for a walk in the
rain, about 20 feet from camp I came upon plastic bags and pieces of paper
along with a pile of oatmeal. As I cleaned up the mess, I thought what kind
of slob would leave such a mess. Then I saw it, in the absence of bears, Jim
had deemed it safe to leave a dry gear bag with food next to his kayak. He
thought it was a good idea, so did the racoons. I laughed and called out
"Jim how many bagels do you think a racoon can eat?" He mumbled something in
his sleep, until it occurred to him that I was talking about his 4 dozen
bagles along with his 100 or so packs of oatmeal. Jim was still sleeping two
hours later when kids started going from tent to tent banging pots and pans.
Now we knew why the camp sites weren't marked, we had pitched camp in the
middle of a church camping group. After waking Jim and moving to the actual
camp area, we had breakfast and prepared to check out the local waterways.

We finally launched around noon and headed south past Protection Island. The
launch itself was interesting, their were so many sand dollars on the bottom
that it was black, and the tide was so low you could wade over to Protection
Island, were the night before big yachts were motoring through. After about
10 minutes of paddling we were ready to cross the frieghter lanes in Nanaimo
Harbour. I told Jim that we should hold a bit inland of the point we were
shooting for in case of unexpected currents (With the tidal extremes, the
currents were predicted to hit velocities of between 5 and 9 knots depending
on location). We quickly crossed the shipping lanes after one ship came by.
Then we hit it, the cross current from hell, pushing us out into the Strait
of Georgia. The current was moving very fast, and not in a direction I cared
to go, so I yelled to Jim "time to hammer, buddy" and we started a sprint to
get across it before it swept us too far off course. After about 5 minutes
of hard paddling we reached the shallows were the current slowed down. Here
we talked to a few crabbers about water conditions and any hazards they knew
of before taking off toward Dodd Narrows. After catching a crab and passing
it to one of the crabbers, we took off around the point and into
Northumberland Passage.

Northumberland Passage was definitely a series of contrasting images for our
Americanized brains. Here was rugged wild beauty with porpoise and seal
lions swimming by, fish jumping, and rocky shorelines with large expanses of
cliffs, and in the middle of it all, huge stacks belching smoke and steam.
We had hit the "ideal" place to put industrial users, far away from
population centers. We paddled through this area for another hour and turned
back near the opening of Dodd Narrows, it was time to meet our next boat
load of friends.

We paddled back to Nanaimo just in time to meet our friends arriving at
5:00. Jim stayed with the kayaks and I went up to find Deb, Eddie and Chula.
They weren't hard to spot, Eddie was pulling an overloaded tandem up the
hill, using a home made and obviously overloaded set of stern wheels. Lucky
for him I had brought another set with me, so presto four wheel drive boat
trailer. We attached Chula's leash to the front and off we went to the
launch. We got the boat ready and then headed off to the local pub while Jim
went to the store to replace his bagels. After a few pitchers of beer, we
decided it would be easier to kayak the 100 meters to Newcastle's nearest
shore and have Jim run back to camp, so I wouldn't have to paddle back for
Margarets boat, before her scheduled 8:00 arrival.

The 8:00 ferry showed up and we saw our group of four kayakers offload
(funny thing, I was expecting 9 of them). The four all had wheels and
lightly loaded kayaks, which they quickly moved into the parking lot. Ten
minutes later, all the trucks were off and we saw our other group of 5, with
3 boats and no wheels. Then I saw it, Margarets bag 'o' food. She was
responsible for Sunday and Monday lunch, and didn't want anyone to starve to
death. She had a 30 gallon trash bag completely filled with food. Once we
got all the boats ready, with the extra food tied off on top, we left for
the camp site, where Eddie had cooked a great dinner.


After dinner and drinks (or was it drinks and dinner) we prepared to doze
off when we heard these orgasmic screams coming from Darby's tent (she &
Robert were sharing a tent in the meadow area). We later determined that it
was actually some obnoxious high schoolers from the camp site next door, who
then proceeded to do a strip tease for their boy friends, before they all
ran off and peace desended on the camp.

The overcast skies of Saturday morning came early, but everyone was pleased
that we had abandoned the idea of a 4:30am launch, to hit the early slack
current at Dodd Narrows. Mike & Mary cooked up a great breakfast, and we
launched around 9:30 after splitting into two groups. The more experienced
group went for the challenge of Dodd Narrows, while I lead the rest of the
crew in navigating through the reefs and shoals of False Narrows. After a
little over two hours of paddling we came out of False Narrows into
XXXXXXXXXXXXX with amazing amounts of marine life. The sun was out and we
decided it was time to find a beach for lunch (actually everyone wanted to
eat food to reduce the weight of their kayaks before we hit camp).

We landing on a small patch of sand and after a lunch of bagels, and led by
Chula the kayaking German Shepard mix, started exploring the island. At
first it consisted of looking at tide pool critters, and digging through our
guides to identify them. Pretty soon we'd moved on to turning over rocks to
see what was under them, then boulders (Darby, the human forklift proved
handy for this excercise). In addition to the typical oysters, starfish,
crabs, blennies, and other small animals we also found some fairly large
fish guarding their nests. After about an hour Howie found a huge block of
styrofoam which he started to abuse in many ways, while the rest of the
group picked up sticks and logs to build a beach version of a xylophone,
with Mike showing his musical skills, fortunetly we stopped before we scared
everything off. With lunch completed we took off for DeCourcey Island and
our rendevous scheduled at Pirates Cove.


Both groups arrived at DeCourcey Island at about the same time, with tales
of the trip including the ride through Dodd Narrows to be shared. The island
was beautiful, with a lot of bird life, and a nice beach at the south end.
As evening approached Eddie started making dinner while the rest of us
scouted out campsites. With a large marsh in the middle of the campground,
it was a contest to see who could find a site clear of mosqiutoes (there
weren't any). Once Eddie & Deb completed creating the wonderful dinner
(burritos) we helped them devour it. After dinner people either helped clean
dishes and move kayaks to higher ground for the expected high tide, or went
for a hike on the islands trails.

Sunday morning started clear and warm, with a light breeze out of the south.
We launched by 10 and spent the next two hours paddling across XXXXXXX
channel. As we approached Reid Island we spotted a reef covered with
Brandts, Commorants, Seagulls and Oystercatchers, so we paddled closer to
take a look and regroup. We noticed that the reef to the west of the one
with the birds had a bit of a sand beach, so we landed there for another
bagel lunch, and more lessons in marine biology. After a few hours, we
launched to continue our journey to Wallace Island.

After a few more hours of paddling, we arrived at Conover Harbour on Wallace
Island just before 6pm. The last mile was the toughest, as by this time we
not only had a headwind, but now the current was hitting us from head on as
well. We set up camp on the lawn of what had been Dave Conovers home (He had
owned the island for about 25 years after writing several best seller
books). It was a wonderful place with gardens and an abundance of wildlife
(we even saw a mink as we were running the mile and a half to the other end
of the island for a look at the view). Upon return to camp, someone asked
who was making what for dinner? That was when the realization hit, the three
people who had cancelled where all from the same meal team, Sunday dinner.
Once again Eddie jumped in and by combining his leftovers with others,
cooked up a great meal.

Monday morning started cool and overcast, with more wind from the south. It
was Jims turn to make breakfast, and as he started to get the bagels out,
there was a revolt; we elected Eddie to make something, anything, just not
bagels. Eddie made omelettes using eggs we had scrounged from campers on
DeCourcey Island the day before, and mixed with onions, potatoes, beans, and
some herbs from the island. During this time we decided on a destination
(which port were we going to catch the ferry back to the mainland from) and
packed our gear.

We launched at about 10am and headed south for Long Harbour on Saltspring
Island. After about an hour of paddling Howie was getting restless and was
looking for something to catch. He didn't have a fishing pole, but he had
fashioned a lasoo of sorts and proceeded to catch himself a tandem. Robert
and Darby (in the tandem) weren't looking forward to being mounted on
Howie's fireplace with his other strange trophies, so they put up a good
fight, before Howie decided to be humane and converted to the catch and
release plan. After the roping contest, we discovered a small lagoon where
we stopped for lunch and spent time catching crabs (the marine kind) and
photographing an Eagle feeding it's eaglets in a nest on a point nearby. We
arrived at Long Harbour in time to portage our kayaks up a 25 foot cliff and
still catch the 4pm ferry back to Twassen.

It was a great trip, everyone was a little scruffy and in need of a shower,
but hey at least you know customs will be quicker when they have to put up
with your smell. We bestowed the honor of camp cook on Eddie, and of birding
expert on Julie and we all started planning our next trip.