The Fumigation As Wind Blows Free: A Paddling Poem

a tent site at the southeast end of Isaac Lake, Bowron Lake Provincial Park, British Columbia
The scene of the crime: our tent site on Isaac Lake

Several years ago my wife and I, together with our friend Heidi, completed a circuit of the famous Bowron Lakes Canoe route (though we used kayaks). While we ate excellently overall, one supper was unforgettable not just for its taste but for its after effects. I commemorated the occasion with this pastiche of Robert W. Service’s famous “The Cremation of Sam McGee“.

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Kayak Touring BC’s Gulf Islands, Part 1: Swartz Bay, Portland Island (Princess Margaret Island) and North Pender Island

a sea kayak paddles beneath Kanaka Bluff, Portland Island (Princess Margaret Island) Gulf Islands National Park

rounding Kanaka Bluff

This series is a response to one reader’s request (It’s nice to know I have at least one reader!) They’re grab bags of trip suggestions and photos from many sea kayak voyages I’ve made through BC’s Gulf Islands over the course of more than two decades. I keep going back, not just because of the islands’ proximity to my home port of Vancouver, but also because they are richly served by a combination of National, Provincial and commercial water-accessible campgrounds.* By mixing up routes and seasons, you can create an infinite variety of voyages. Continue reading

The Royal ‘Round: Sea Kayaking Princess Royal Island. Part 3

July 2, 2010
Back in the day, Butedale was a thriving, company-owned fish canning community of several hundred people. “The day” ended in the 1950s. Since then, the rain forest has been relentlessly reclaiming the town. Today, only a few buildings remain habitable. Lou, the 65-year old caretaker, lives in one, and he rents out rooms in a couple of other cabins to recreational fishermen and the occasional kayaker.

Butedale, Princess Royal Island, British Columbia
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The Royal ‘Round: Sea Kayaking Princess Royal Island. Part 2

June 27, 2010

a kayak under sail in a high windToday gave me the weather window I needed for the long hop to Campania Island. I got jumped by a rain squall at the half-way point, but its wind was in my favour, so I simply put up the sail and ran with it for about a half an hour. Continue reading

The Royal ‘Round: Sea Kayaking Princess Royal Island. Part 1

Prelude, June 19, 2010

I wheeled my kayak aboard the Queen Of Chilliwack at Port Hardy at about 20:00 hours. After a late supper of burger and fries in the cafeteria, I found a quiet corner of the solarium on the upper deck, and made camp with my mat and sleeping bag. As we steamed north through the night, the weather changed from clear skies to the cloud and light rain more typical of the central coast.

BC Ferries The Queen Of Chilliwack Continue reading

Dances With Beers: Sea Kayaking The Broughton Archipelago To Powell River. Part 4

August 19
Up at 5AM, on the water for 7:35. At first, I paddled through thick fog that was backlit by the rising sun into a luminous white. It looked rather like a Hollywood effects tech’s idea of “going to heaven.” Heaven or not, the prospect of running the Upper Rapids blind was pretty daunting, but fortunately the fog burnt off as I went.

a sea channel in low-lying fog

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Dances With Bears: Sea Kayaking The Broughton Archipelago To Powell River. Part 3

August 17 An Epically Long Day

I got up at 3:30AM to get on the water for 6:00, as I had a fair way to go get to the Greene Point Rapids, and slack-to-flood was shortly after seven. I wound up breaking camp in the dark and fog by the dwindling light of a dying headlamp (good thing the batteries had been full a couple of nights before when I was dealing with Bruno).

Because I had to battle headwinds and a stronger-than-expected countercurrent, I was about 15 minutes late getting to the rapids. They were shrouded in heavy fog, and I could hear water splashing, which spooked me a bit. Surely there couldn’t be overfalls or standing waves just a quarter hour after slack? Then I spied a pod of our distant cousins, marine mammals, cavorting happily westward through the current, making the splashing sound I’d heard. A magic moment.

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