One of the things I love about working as an instructor-guide with a raft of mostly younger colleagues is the chance to spark off their energy and enthusiasm. But at work, the longest paddles we typically do together are day trips. So getting away for three days and two nights up Halkomelem: səl̓ilw̓ət with many of them gave me a chance to feel like I could pay things back a little by demonstrating some campcraft, backcountry cooking and compass navigation to co-workers who might not have done a lot of kayak touring.

Read more: Guiding Light: 2023 Jericho Beach Kayak staff trip to Halkomelem: səl̓ilw̓ət (Indian Arm)

June 9, 2023

Having swung by Jericho Beach Kayak to pick up boats, we arrived at Deep Cove mid morning. I, like several others, was waffling back and forth about whether to bring my wetsuit or my drysuit on this trip. At the present, it was cool and cloudy, with showers predicted, but it was scheduled to get warmer and dryer later in the weekend. In the end, I opted for the drysuit, which proved to be the right choice. At least mostly.

As we lunched on the Twin Islands, the rain began to patter down. Shortly after we left the Islands, it upgraded to full showers, with a following wind. I’d stowed a folding sail on the back deck of my boat (I was paddling a kayak borrowed from JBK, and suspected my boss would not appreciate me drilling holes in it to mount a permanent sail, so the clip-on Windpaddle Sail it was.) My cunning plan had been to effortlessly cruise past, or at least alongside, my colleagues. But with the cloud, the wind was not the strong atabatic it would have been on a sunny day, so my sailing was significantly slower than I’d hoped. In the end, I did a series of leapfrogs – sailing until I was a few hundred meters behind the pack, then sprinting with the paddle to catch up, then taking a sailing break again, and so on. The end result was me landing pretty much with the pod at Granite Falls in the late afternoon.

On this rainy Friday night, there were only a few other campers, which gave us a nice selection of sites. Some of our group doubled up tents on one pad, since we suspected the Inn would be much fuller tomorrow (we knew at least three more of our own group would be joining us.)

EJ, our fearless leader, had rigged the kitchen-dining tarp by the time I had set up my tent and changed into shore wear. Very necessary as the rain was falling heavily now. Audrey was my meal mate for making the group supper this first night, and was very patient with chopping vegetables (I was making this dish, but with the Chorizo fried separately to be added downstream by the non-vegetarians in our group.) I also managed to subcontract grating the Parmigiano Reggiano to Mika, which left me free to concentrate on toasting the pine nuts, frying the veggies in proper order and boiling a huge pot of pasta. It looked like a lot, but eight hungry kayakers made short work of it. Good thing I’d also brought a strawberry-rhubarb pie to heat in the Outback Oven. And hot custard to pour over it.

June 10, 2023

It continued to pour heavily through the night, so I was glad of the overtarp on my tent. The precip lightened off by the morning, but we were still glad of the kitchen tarp as we enjoyed oatmeal with a range of toppings, courtesy of Chris and Mika.

Then it was to the boats and off to the mouth of the Indian River. We’d planned to arrive at near high tide in order to get as far up the river as possible. With EJ demoing, the group got to practice paddling in currents. Though I used to run whitewater back in the day, being in an unfamiliar boat with a rather loose skirt, I opted to eddy out just below the sandbar the rest of the group made it to, and go birdwatching while they walked further upstream. During all this, we got the call on my VHF from the trio that were joining us today – Natalie, Maggie and Mark. I was pretty impressed that the handheld radios worked with us so far up the river.

After the exploration, we ran effortlessly downstream. The falling tide had made the river significantly more boney than it had been on our way in, but we got to a sandbar in the estuary without anything more serious than some sacrificed gelcoat. There Lyra and EJ laid out a beautiful buffet lunch for us. I got a chance to demonstrate a marine sighting compass and the use of a modified Douglas protractor to the group. After a bit of a learning curve with the sighting compass, the group did plot an LOP off the west side of Croker Island that put us where we already knew we were (how awkward if it had been otherwise!)

On the way home, we both played and learned, experimenting with a variety of old and new strokes. Back at Granite Falls, as we’d expected, there’d been a massive population explosion, but everyone was being considerate of one another, and no-one was operating loud musical devices. (A sensible precaution, as it has been known for boom boxes at backcountry campsites to fall in the water, even from well up on shore. Funny that.) Natalie and Alex fed us to repletion on amazing ramen.

June 11, 2023

Sunday lived up to its name, dawning clear and dry. I helped Marc and Maggie configure the campstoves to set up a pop-up IHOP, with excellent pancakes and a wide selection of toppings, including whipped cream! To tamp down breakfast, Alex led us all in some improvised yoga paddle warm-ups.

Even with my lightest layers on under the drysuit, it would have been a boil-in-bag experience save for the fact I was wearing a Mustang Hudson suit, with a neck seal that could be loosened for a bit of ventilation.

We frolicked down the east side of Croker Island, with Marc and EJ giving us an on-water clinic on the use of cross-bow draws and hanging draws to slip along right next to the rock walls. Just off Silver Falls, the water was thick with Lion’s Mane jellyfish, including one monster that must have been a couple of feet across.

With the sun out, the inflow wind rose steadily as we clawed our way towards Thwaythes Landing for lunch. (Where was that wind a couple of days ago when I needed it to race north to Granite Falls?) Elaine and Rita laid out a zesty tortilla wrap buffet for lunch. Since I’d been lagging significantly behind the group just prior to lunch, I opted to launch earlier than them after lunch to get a head start and not hold the fleet back. (By prior arrangement, we were in touch on Channel 69 on the VHF.) Though I was nominally the navigator for the fleet, they assured me they were capable of “keeping the land on the right” until they reached Deep Cove. And so it proved.

By hugging the shore and finding back eddies from the wind, I made pretty good time back to Deep Cove, maintaining my 30 minute lead. The sea just in front of Deep Cove beach looked like a pond of mutant water lilies, with paddlecraft and inflatable rafts of every colour and size wafting about under varying degrees of directional control.

I tried to put my advance landing to use by running to Honey Donuts, hoping to greet the main invasion force on the beach with a box of a dozen gooey treats. But the weekend line-up was insanely long, so I instead grabbed a quick shower and fetched my car back from the long term parking.

It was evening by the time we got back to the Jericho Sailing Association, offloaded boats, and headed home in that happily weary way that ensures a sound sleep and sweet dreams.

Thanks to all my colleagues for sharing their knowledge, the pleasure of their company, and their photos!