Point To Point: Exploring The Inside Passage By Kayak

I recently finished a complete chronology of my Inside Passage kayaking adventure and have turned it into the digital "Kindle" book format that is available from Amazon Books online. By clicking on the bold type title above, you will be brought to the Amazon page where the Kindle formatted book can be downloaded. The title is, Point to Point: Exploring the Inside Passage by Kayak.

Introduction

The following is a detailed description of my solo kayak trip through the Inside Passage from San Juan Island Washington to Skagway Alaska. I hope you enjoy reading it and looking at the photos.
Denis Dwyer

Day 1 - Friday - June 8 - San Juan Island to Prevost Harbor

Canada's Coast Range appears across the Strait of Georgia as seen from the ferry.

As I rode the ferry across Puget Sound and looked north up the Strait of Georgia, I could see the snow capped peaks of Canada’s coastal mountain range stretching off into the distance. The kayaking trip I was about to undertake would take me well past the farthest mountains I could now see. In a few weeks, these distant peaks would be further behind me than they were in front of me now. The challenge was real, but I was confident that if I took it a day at a time, these sentinels would slowly disappear from my view as new vistas opened before me.
After months of planning, and a 3,000-mile drive across the US, I had finally arrived at my launch point on beautiful San Juan Island in Washington‘s, Northern Puget Sound. The “put in” would be Small Pox Bay at the San Juan County Park. I picked this spot to start the trip because it allowed me to avoid heavily urbanized areas along the mainland and put me in a good position to enter Canada’s Gulf Islands and travel within their relatively protected waters.
San Juan County Park is very popular with kayakers and whale watchers who come to catch a glimpse of the many pods of Orcas that frequently pass within a short distance of its shoreline. It can be crowded during the summer, so reservations are necessary if you plan to spend the night. Access to San Juan Island is via the Washington State Ferry that leaves the mainland in Anacortes Washington and arrives on the island at Friday Harbor.

First Leg - Days 1-12 - San Juan Island to Powell River



The main natural and man made features encountered along this stretch of the route include: The San Juan Islands, Boundary Pass, the US / Canadian border, the Gulf Islands, Trincomali Channel, the city of Nanaimo, the Strait of Georgia, Texada Island, Malaspina Strait, and the city of Powell River.


My big adventure begins at Small Pox Bay on San Juan Island.

The weather was perfect for my first day on the water, light winds, mild temperatures, and mostly clear skies. Launch time was 9:20am. I headed north thru Haro Strait with Canada’s Vancouver Island on my left and the west coast of San Juan Island on my right. Even though there was a slight current against me, I still made good time through Mosquito Pass and into Roche Harbor. As I entered the pass, I got my first look at a group of Harbor Seals that were sunning themselves on a rock while others seemed to be feeding or playing in the water near by.


As I start my crossing of Speiden Channel Vancouver Island fills the horizon across Haro Strait.

I cleared the pass between Henry and Pearl Islands at 11am and headed out across Spieden Channel towards the west tip of Spieden Island. This was my first open water crossing of the trip and a good introduction to what lay ahead. The wind was kicking up a light chop and there were recreational boaters speeding about in every direction. Even though Spieden Island is about halfway across the channel, there is no good place to land, so it is unusable as a refuge in bad weather. By noon, I had made the four-mile crossing to the entrance of Johns Pass. There was a one to two knot current running against me through Johns Pass so I stayed close to shore and out of the main flow.


My campsite at Prevost Harbor on Stuart Island.

In a short time, I had paddled around the eastern tip of Stuart Island and into Prevost Harbor. There is a state park here with a convenient landing spot for kayakers just west of the boat dock and a few yards from the designated campsites. All campsites are about twenty feet above high tide and have good views of the harbor. There are picnic tables, a composting toilet, and water. A trail winds through the park and offers a chance to stretch legs stiffened by a day of paddling.
Today’s paddle covered around 12 miles in 3 hours and 40 minutes.

Day 2 - Saturday - June 9 - Prevost Harbor to James Bay

Setting off across Boundary Pass from Prevost Harbor on Stuart Island toward South Pender Island.

The weather was gloomy but the wind calm as I woke up for my second day of paddling. After having a quick breakfast and breaking camp, I launched at 8am. As soon as I attached my spray skirt, it started to rain. Ahead lay the four miles of open water in Boundary Pass and the Canadian border. Since slack tide today was at 7:30am, I knew it was possible to make it across the four miles to South Pender Island before any serious current picked up. Boundary Pass is notorious for its fast tidal currents and heavy shipping traffic so it had been a major source of concern for me. Leaving early for the long crossing turned out to be a good idea as the weather later in the day got very windy and would have made the crossing dangerous. The light drizzle and lack of wind made the crossing go smoothly and by 9:30am I was tying up to the customs dock in Bedwell Harbor on South Pender Island.


Entering Bedwell Harbor on South Pender Island.

The Canadian customs station was unmanned. Instead of live personnel, there were three phones with direct links to customs agents. After asking me a few questions, an agent gave me permission to enter Canada. While standing in the rain talking to the customs agent, I started to get cold. I spotted a coffee shop nearby so I went over and got some coffee and a muffin. The combination of a hot drink and a warm room soon had me feeling better and ready to face the open water again. While there, I chatted with some friendly Canadians who were amazed that I had just paddled across Boundary Pass in a kayak.


A BC ferry enters Otter Bay on North Pender Island.

I left Bedwell Harbor at 10:30am and after rounding Wallace Point headed up the southwest coast of North Pender Island. The current was flooding south through Swanson Channel for the first two hours so I hugged the shore to stay out of the main flow. By 12:30pm, the current had turned and was no longer a problem, but now the wind and rain had picked up and created uncomfortable paddling conditions as squalls moved through. My original route plan was to go through Captain Passage along the west coast of Prevost Island. This would have required an open water crossing of 2.5 miles from North Pender to Prevost Islands. After considering the weather conditions, I opted instead to follow the west coast of North Pender Island. If conditions deteriorated, three large bays would offer me some protection.


A stormy day on Swanson Channel.

I stopped for a few minutes in the northernmost bay of Port Washington to consider the conditions that lay ahead in the crossing over to Prevost Island. The distance was about a mile and a half and a southerly wind was creating whitecaps that would be hitting me from the left rear. I decided to go for it and headed out for Portlock Point on Prevost Island. I was carrying a waterproof digital camera that could take short videos so I turned it on to try and capture the scene for friends back home that have no idea how it looks to be in a kayak in rough water. Unfortunately, it was just the first time that the camera was to malfunction on this trip so the crossing would go undocumented. After a determined thirty-minute paddle, I reached Prevost Island and could finally take a break out of the wind in relatively calm water.
The coast of Prevost Island was different from all the other shorelines I had passed in these first two days in that there were no homes visible from the water. Every other island had conspicuous homes indicating private property along their entire shorelines.


Approaching the beach at James Bay.

I rounded Peile Point on the North West tip of Prevost Island and headed into James Bay and a Cascadia Marine Trail (CMT) campsite. After landing in the rain at 3pm, I set up camp on a grassy meadow where a flock of Canadian geese had left plenty of proof of their recent feeding activity. The area has no improvements other than an outhouse but the landing site was good and the tall grass made for a comfortable campsite. Although there is no fresh water available at James Bay, I was able to collect a couple of gallons by strategically placing cooking pots to catch water running off my rain tarp.


After a stormy day of paddling the sky begins to clear at James Bay.


After dinner, I made a call home on my cell phone and was amazed when it actually went through. Today I covered eighteen miles in six hours.

Day 3 - Sunday - June 10 - Layover at James Bay

The camping area at James Bay is in a big field of tall grass.

I had a hard time sleeping last night due to pain in my right shoulder no doubt caused by two days of strenuous paddling. Since it was still raining off and on, I decided to take a day off and let my shoulder rest.
James Bay was full of wildlife that kept me company during my stay. Besides the flock of Canadian geese that seem to have made the bay home, there were deer grazing in the meadow around my campsite, and a river otter feeding in the calm water just offshore. Eagles flew overhead and perched in the nearby trees while a martin searched the shore for its next meal.


Looking NW up Trincomali Channel from James Bay on Prevost Island.

In the afternoon the wind shifted to northerly, the rain stopped, and the sky started to clear. This gave me a good opportunity to do some exploring. A trail along the shore brought me to an abandoned homestead site on a hill with beautiful views overlooking James Bay. Nearby was an abandoned orchard that in years past would have provided the Prevost Island settlers with fresh fruit.


A BC ferry passes off in the distance from James Bay.

Day 4 - Monday - June 11 - James Bay to Blackberry Point

After an early breakfast I broke camp, got the kayak loaded up, and launched at 7:20am. Although the sky was cloudy and gray, the rain had stopped. Today’s route would take me along the northeast coast of Saltspring Island and through the Trincomali Channel. The shoreline of Saltspring Island was full of wildlife. As I paddled slowly along the rocky shore, I spotted beaver, raccoon, martin, deer, seals, eagles, and starfish.


Wallace and Secretary Islands come into view in Trincomali Channel as I pass Walker Hook.

A planned stop at Conover Cove on Wallace Island to get water turned out to be a challenge. The only shallow area in the cove consisted of thick sticky mud so it was necessary to tie up to the pier to exit my kayak. Depending how a pier is constructed it can be anything from easy to impossible to get in or out of a kayak. Luckily, this one was not bad and I was able to get out easily. Finding the water proved more difficult as the unmarked source was a few hundred yards from the dock along a trail leading to the north end of the island. The antique water pump had seen better days and I found it impossible to hold a water bottle under the outlet and pump the long handle at the same time. The only way to get water here would be to have two people operate the pump, or have a bucket to hang under the faucet while operating the pump handle from four feet away. A sign on the pump warned to boil water before drinking. As I would soon discover, all public water sources that I encountered on the trip would include this disclaimer, apparently to protect its public provider from litigation. Through out the trip, I did not boil, or even chemically treat water collected from these sources, and did not get sick even once.


Heading through the pass between Wallace and Secretary Islands.

I continued paddling along the west shore of Wallace Island and cut across at Chivers Point to follow the east coast of the Secretary Islands. After passing Hall Island on its west side and Reid Island on its east side, I headed north to Valdes Island across a mile and a half wide section of the Trincomali Channel. Kayakers in this area should stay clear of Porlier Pass except during slack tides as the currents flowing through it can create dangerous tiderips.


Looking NE toward Porlier Pass as I paddle along the eastern shoreline of Reid Island.

Shingle Point on Valdes Island was a good place to stop for a break. A grassy meadow with some abandoned buildings was all that remained of a homestead on this beautiful point of land. A small cemetery nearby held the remains of some of the areas early settlers.


Looking west across Pylades Channel from the beach at Blackberry Point on Valdes Island.

My destination on this day was Blackberry Point, where a designated camping area for kayakers has been established. Although there were a few possible sites up in the trees, I opted instead for a breezy beach site, as the mosquitoes seemed to have taken over the wooded area. Tonight’s high tide would not reach the top of the beach, so I did not have to worry about it getting to me in the middle of the night. There is no water available at Blackberry Point. A rustic pit toilet is the only amenity.


Vancouver Island in evening sunlight from Blackberry Point.

I arrived at Blackberry Point at 1:15pm after paddling nineteen miles in six hours.

Day 5 - Tuesday - June 12 - Blackberry Point to Nanaimo

My campsite on the beach at Blackberry Point on Valdes Island.

Today I hoped to take advantage of a flood tide flowing north through Pylades Channel to help me on my way. I launched just after the tide turned and headed toward today’s destination, Nanaimo. After launching at 10:40am from Blackberry Point on Valdes Island, I cut across Pylades Channel and paddled up the east coast of Pylades and Ruxton Islands.


A small tug pulls a huge log raft through Ruxton Passage.

At Ruxton Passage, I arrived just as a small tug towing a raft of logs started to come through. It was amazing to watch as a huge raft, possibly 300 yards long, passed in front of me. I sat bobbing in the waves for 20 minutes as the raft slowly made its way past. My only consolation was the wonderful smell of the fresh cut timber that filled the air as I waited.
I stopped at the Ruxton Passage Cove Marine Park on the southeast tip of De Courcy Island and filled up my water bottles from the hand pump there. This park has a much more user-friendly landing area than Conover Cove on Wallace Island and the pump was much easier to use for filling water bottles.


Entering False Narrows with Gabriola Island on the right and Mudge Island on the left.

The current was flowing northerly thru Pylades Channel as I made my way along the east coast of De Courcy Island toward False Narrows. The current pushed me along at a good clip in the narrows as I watched the shallow bottom features zip past through the clear water.


Northumberland Channel appears in the distance as I make my way through the narrowest section of False Narrows.

Once I was out of False Narrows and into Northumberland Channel, conditions rapidly became uncomfortable. The current was now flowing at full force through False and Dodd Narrows, the wind had picked up to about 20mph, and there were power boaters zipping around in every direction. The sea conditions were choppy and confused requiring me to pay close attention and not take my hands off the paddle for a second. On top of all that, there were log rafts 100 feet wide tied up along the shore of Gabriola Island with the currents pushing me towards them. I knew it was important to stay away from the upstream ends of these rafts because if forced underneath them I would be in big trouble.


Newcastle Island appears across Northumberland Channel.

I cut across to the Vancouver Island side of the channel and started heading toward the ferry terminal near Jack Point. I could see the ferry approaching from far off so I timed myself to pass behind the ferry as it approached the dock. Now it was only a short distance to today’s destination, the Newcastle Island Marine Park in Nanaimo.


I yield the right of way to the BC ferry landing at Jack Point.

It is a good idea to launch and land at Newcastle Island during a high tide, as the water around the camping area is shallow, and landing at low tide requires a long carry. I arrived at 3:45, two hours before the day’s high tide so I was able to land high up on the beach. The best spot to land a kayak is where you see a little footbridge on the southeast side of the island near a place called Brownie Cove. Securely tie up your boat here and head west along the trail over to the pavilion where the campground office is located. Along the way you will pass campsites so be on the lookout for one that is empty. Locate a handcart either at the pavilion or at the powerboat dock and bring it back with you to your boat. You should be able to load your boat and all your gear on the handcart and bring it all to the campsite you have chosen in one trip. If you cannot find anyone to check in with, just occupy a vacant site and someone will come around, collect the fees from you, and check you in. I stayed here two nights so I could spend a full day in Nanaimo getting supplies and taking a break.


Hand carts are available on Newcastle Island to get your boat and gear from wherever you land to a campsite.

An alternative to landing by the footbridge at Brownie Point could be the public boat dock at Mark Bay on Newcastle Island. This may be a better choice if you have to land or launch at low tide although I did not investigate while there.


A large flock of Canadian Geese has made this lawn on Newcastle Island their territory.

While camped here, do not leave any food in your tent, as the island is full of raccoons that will tear a hole in your tent searching for something to eat. You may even want to leave your tent door unzipped, as I had a raccoon tear a hole in my mosquito net door to get in and I had left no food in the tent. Each campsite has a large wooden box for storing food and equipment so the raccoons cannot get to it.
Today I paddled sixteen miles in five hours.

Day 6 - Wednesday - June 13 - Layover day in Nanaimo

Small ferries like this one leave the Newcastle Island dock to take passengers to Nanaimo.

Today I took the day off to look around Nanaimo and get some supplies. A small ferry shuttle leaves the dock at Newcastle Island every 15 minutes and crosses the harbor to Nanaimo.


This is a small part of Nanaimo Harbor.

There, a pedestrian walkway winds along the waterfront with restaurants, shops, a laundromat, grocery store, and a mall at the end. For great Mexican food, try “Penny’s Palapa”, a floating restaurant in the middle of the municipal harbor.


A raccoon tore a hole in my empty tent while I was camped here on Newcastle Island.

Newcastle Island Park has a good food concession in the pavilion, where basic fast food meals are available not far from the camping area. There are coin operated hot showers, and flush toilets in the bathrooms. A trail leads around the island where you can stretch you legs and get some good views of the area.


A ten person canoe paddles in the harbor between Newcastle Island and Nanaimo.

While camped at Newcastle I met another kayaker that was paddling the same route I planned to take. Although I did not know it then we would end up paddling off and on for the next three weeks all the way to Port Hardy.

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Day 7 - Thursday - June 14 - Nanaimo to Ballenas Island

Getting ready to launch from Newcastle Island at low tide.

According to the tide and current tables, the currents around Nanaimo should flood north during a rising tide. To take advantage of this, I planned to launch from Newcastle Island at the turn to high tide, which on this day was at 11:42am. This strategy would give me plenty of time in the morning to get ready and even allow me to have breakfast at the park pavilion. The disadvantage was that since I would be launching at low tide, the equipment carry to the waters edge would be much longer than when I had landed at high tide two days earlier. I was willing to make this compromise, as the net effort involved would be less. As it turned out, the current was against me for the first two hours after I launched so it was like paddling upstream. By 2pm, the current had reversed and I was getting a push toward my destination. As I soon began to realize, the current does not necessarily change direction as soon as the tide changes. Depending on the location, some time has to go by before the current changes direction after a tide change.


A BC ferry leaving Nanaimo's Departure Bay as I round Newcastle Island.

Today’s paddle would take me past the densely populated coast of Vancouver Island north of Nanaimo. The weather was clear and the wind was light. I made good time passing through the Winchelsea and Ada Islands. This area is full of dozens of small islands and rocky islets. My destination this day was South Ballenas Island and as I paddled through all these small islands, I wondered how hard it would be to find the island I was looking for. As I continued along however, it soon became obvious as the two Ballenas Islands were much further north and more isolated out in the Strait of Georgia than any of the other islands in the area.


Before reaching Ballenas Island there are dozens of small rocky islets that must be navigated.

On the north side of South Ballenas Island, there is a small bay with a nice beach composed of smooth rounded pebbles. This beach is perfect for camping and offers protection from all winds except northerlies. The view from the beach looks out on the route across the Strait of Georgia to Lasqueti and Texada Islands. There is no water on South Ballenas Island.


Looking out across the Strait of Georgia toward the mainland from the north facing beach on South Ballenas Island.

When I arrived at the beach, the kayaker I had met at Newcastle Island Park was there already. After reviewing the day’s events, it seemed that launching earlier and not having to carry my boat and gear so far down to the low tide line would have been the better choice. I may have had to paddle against the current for a while longer, but the net effort would have been less. This strategy was useful in planning launch times throughout the remainder of the trip.


The beach on South Ballenas Island makes a great campsite.

Today I launched at 12:10pm and landed at 4:50pm, covering 16 miles in 4 hours and 40 minutes.

Day 8 - Friday - June 15 - Ballenas Island to Texada Island South

After crossing the Strait of Georgia I reached Squitty Bay at the south end of Lasqueti Island.

Today was the first day of the trip that I paddled with someone else. My new kayaking friend and I were both happy to have a companion along for the seven-mile crossing of the Strait of Georgia from South Ballenas to Lasqueti Island. We launched at 9:40am and had no problems crossing the strait arriving off the southeast tip of Lasqueti Island at 12:10pm. We followed the rocky coastline around into Sabine Channel and through a group of small islands and rocky islets.


I spotted this cluster of Starfish at low tide on Jedediah Island.


This abandoned homestead is located at Home Bay on Jedediah Island.

The first place that we found to land and take a break was Home Bay on Jedediah Island. Although this was a good place to stop for a rest, it was not suitable for camping. We continued on a couple of miles further, and then crossed Sabine Channel over to Texada Island.


This was the first likely campsite I had seen since leaving Ballenas Island.


My first Texada Island campsite looked out on Sabine Channel.

A beautiful campsite awaited us on a small peninsula jutting out from Texada just south of Mount Shepherd. The beach was easy to land the kayaks on and there was plenty of level space to pitch tents. The views up and down Sabine Channel were spectacular, with miles of open water to the northwest and southeast and the broken shorelines of dozens of islands visible across the channel.


Looking SE down Sabine Channel.

This evening the wind became very strong out of the southeast, and the sky was clearer than it had been at any time in the past week. Overnight the wind stopped and a light rain started. This rain continued for the next three days.


Looking across Sabine Channel to Lasqueti Island.

We had landed at 3:00pm after traveling 13 miles from South Ballenas Island to Texada Island in 5 hours and 20 minutes.

Day 9 - Saturday - June 16- Texada Island South to Texada Island north of Davie Bay

Looking out of my tent on a rainy morning.

My first morning on Texada Island was a rainy one, but the wind was calm and the seas smooth. I set up my alcohol stove just outside the vestibule to my tent and had some coffee and hot cereal for breakfast. A crab fisherman’s boat maneuvered slowly offshore playing Led Zeppelin over the stereo system as they picked up and emptied their traps. I did not really feel like breaking camp and packing up in the rain so I took the opportunity to make some notes and read over the information I had with me on Texada Island and hoped that the rain would end soon.


Looking north up the shoreline of Texada Island on a rainy morning.

After noon, the rain ended. I packed up and got ready to launch. As I steadied the boat parallel to the shore in completely calm water getting ready to enter, a set of waves from a barge that had passed about five minutes before reached me. I saw them building as they approached and the sea bottom became shallower. All I could do was to hold on to the boat and let it rise and fall with each wave as it passed underneath. This was a slight annoyance, as now the cockpit needed bailing out, and I was soaking wet before even launching. From this point on, I made sure no wakes from passing boats would catch me by surprise while launching.
Not long after setting off, the wind began to pick up out of the southeast, which initially helped me along as I was paddling to the northwest. As time went by and the wind and waves increased, it became increasingly uncomfortable to be on the water. Added to that was the unusually large number of submerged rocks that lay just offshore along this stretch of Texada Island. I would be paddling 100 yards out and all of a sudden, I would see waves breaking over the top of a barnacle-encrusted boulder. This went on for miles and it was something I had not seen yet on this trip and would not see again. Because of this, I could not take my eyes off the water in front of me for a second, for fear of running full speed into one of these hull-crushers.


My second campsite on Texada Island.

My destination for the day was the Shelter Point Regional Park, a fifteen-mile paddle. The strong wind however forced me to cut this day’s paddle short. I had been staying fairly close to shore to try to keep out of the strongest winds so I was keeping an eye out for a suitable place to camp if one came along. About a mile north of Davie Bay, I found a good site along a crushed shell beach full of big drift logs. I could see from driftwood on the beach that my tent site would be just above high tide. Since high tide this evening would be at 9:00pm, it was not too risky because I could watch high tide rise and begin to fall before I went to sleep.
I did not take note of what time I landed today, but I had covered around 11 miles.

Day 10 - Sunday - June 17 - Texada Island north of Davie Bay to Shelter Point Regional Park

Scary clouds threaten me in the Strait of Georgia.

I made it through the night on my little sliver of beach without the waves or high tide getting to me. By 6am I was having some coffee and at 7:40am I had packed up and was launching. This was the easiest launch yet, as all I had to do was, sit in my loaded kayak, give a push, and slide down a slick pebble beach right into the water. This was to be the only thing that was easy about today’s paddle as the wind was out of the northwest and would be in my face creating rough seas in Sabine Channel. Normally in conditions like these, I try to stay fairly close to shore if that will keep me out of a strong head wind, but the many large boulders that lay submerged just below the surface along this coastline forced me to stay a quarter mile offshore most of the time.


The Shelter Point Regional Park is at Harwood Point on Texada Island.

After paddling into the wind for two hours, I had only traveled four miles, which is about half my normal speed of four miles per hour in calm water. I reached the Shelter Point Regional Park, which had been my previous day’s destination, before 10am. Since it was too early to stop for the day, I decided to just wait a while and see if the wind died down so I could continue. There was a restaurant in the park pavilion, so after securing my boat, I checked it out and had a burger and fries. The restaurants windows looked out on Gillies Bay, which was the next stretch of water that I had to cross. I was able to sit here comfortably and monitor the sea conditions as the wind howled outside.


Looking SE across Mouat Bay from Harwood Point.

By 2pm, it was obvious that the wind was not going to let up anytime soon so I went ahead and got a campsite for the night. The sites are just above the high tide line and are easy to access from the beach. If you plan to stay here, you should try and land near high tide as the beach is shallow making for a long carry at low tide. The park has hot showers and clean restrooms and the restaurant serves meals all day long. This is a “must stop” place to spend the night if you are paddling the west coast of Texada Island.


Looking south across Mouat Bay and the Strait of Georgia toward Vancouver Island.


Looking NW across Gillies Bay and up the Texada shoreline from Harwood Point.

After ten days on the water, I got into a regular routine every evening that I called “doing my homework”. First, I would get out my GPS and get the coordinates of that evening’s campsite. Next, I would take out my Palm Pilot on which I had loaded “Tide Tool”, a tide and current program available on the internet, and input the coordinates and date to find out what the tides would be for the next day. After I got this, I would then write the times and heights of the two high and two low tides for the next day on the laminated charts that covered the next day’s route. I did this with a Sharpie pen that is waterproof so the charts could stay right on the deck all day long with the tide information at my fingertips whenever I needed to check it. I would then make my notes in a logbook of the days paddle with entries on times, wind direction, wave heights, and weather conditions.


My campsite at the Shelter Point Park.

Day 11 - Monday - June 18 - Shelter Point Regional Park to Grilse Point on Texada Island

Launching from Harwood Point into Gillies Bay.

After a rainy night, I was packed up and launching at 7:30am. High tide was at 7:20am and I wanted to make sure and launch near that time as the beach at Shelter Point Park goes out for a long way at lower tides and I didn’t want to have to haul my gear another 100 yards if it could be avoided. As soon as I shoved off, the wind started to blow hard out of the northwest right into my face.


The Texada shoreline north of Gillies Bay.

I headed across the wide opening of Gillies Bay on Texada Island and followed the shoreline keeping as close in as I could to try to avoid the strongest winds. I tried to stay focused on paddling and watching out for obstructions as the wind blew spray from the wave peaks into my eyes.


This strip mine on Texada Island is marked "Ideal Cement" on the chart.

There were many seals along this stretch of coast, and their camouflage skin tones matched the color of the rocks so closely it made them hard to spot until I was right on them. Whenever I saw seals far enough in advance, I would try to go out a little further so as not to scare them off their rocky perches.


This string of rocks marks the NW tip of Texada Island and is named Kiddie Point. Powell River is visable in the distance across Malaspina Strait.

After paddling for an hour and a half into the wind, I took a break in a shallow bay near an airfield to see if the wind would die down. This was the first time on the trip that I got cold while taking a break and after waiting over an hour I decided to get going just to warm up. It was now 10:15am and I would not stop again until 4pm when I reached the northern tip of Texada Island at Kiddie Point. This point was very rocky, and showed signs of severe weathering from storms blowing down the Strait of Georgia. I stopped and took a break but did not stay too long as I wanted to find a campsite and get out of the wind before it got any worse.


My kayak in the rocks at Kiddie Point.


Looking across Malaspina Strait toward Powell River from Kiddie Point.

I paddled into Blubber Bay and had a look along the shoreline but there was no suitable place to camp. Many sailboats had anchored there, trying to stay out of the strong wind blowing the tops off whitecaps just outside the protection of the bay. About a half mile off, along the east shore near Grilse Point, I could see what looked like a gravel beach. Having no other alternative, I paddled towards it and kept my fingers crossed that it would make a suitable campsite. From the water, I could not see a level spot big enough to set up a tent, but after getting out and looking around; it turned out to be perfect.


Harwood Island is visable off in the distance across Malaspina Strait from my campsite at Grilse Point on Texada Island.

The beach was steep and consisted of smooth rounded gravel that was easy on my boat and on me as I unloaded all my gear. This beach would be easy to land on at all tide levels. A level, grassy area, above even the highest tides, made a perfect spot to set up camp. The view across the Strait of Georgia to the west and Malaspina Strait to the east was spectacular and afforded me a good view of the crossing I would have to make to Powell River the next day. There is a lighted navigational aid just offshore on Cyril Rock, and a tall radio tower just inland that make this site easy to find. This turned out to be one of the best campsites of my trip, however there is no water here.


Looking across Malaspina Strait toward Powell River from Grilse Point.

After I had eaten dinner and was getting ready to go to sleep, four teenagers walked by out on an evening hike. We talked for a minute then they were on their way. Here I was thinking I was in this remote location when actually I was just a short distance from a small town and hundreds of people.


My campsite at Grilse Point.

Although it was not necessary, I could have paddled over to the ferry landing in Blubber Bay and taken the ferry over to Powell River. The four miles of open water could be intimidating during even calm weather, but add to that, strong wind, rough seas, and boat traffic and it should make a cautious kayaker think twice about setting off for a solo paddle.


A BC Ferry makes the run from Blubber Bay to Powell River.

I landed at my Grilse Point campsite at 5:30pm after paddling 16 miles over ten hours. During calm conditions, this distance would be easy to paddle in half the time.

Day 12 - Tuesday - June 19 - Grilse Point on Texada Island to Powell River

Setting off across Malaspina Strait toward Powell River from the NE tip of Texada Island.

I awoke around 4am to hear the wind in the trees sounding like a jet engine. If the wind did not die down my alternatives were to take the ferry across Malaspina Strait from Blubber Bay to Powell River or to just sit tight and wait for conditions to improve. At 5am, the wind had suddenly stopped, so I quickly packed up and launched at 6:20am. As soon as I got about a mile into the four-mile crossing, the wind started to pick back up. It was coming out of the southeast at around 20mph and it was hitting me on my right front quarter. Although it was slowing me down at least I could see the waves as they approached and easily brace when they reached me. I found this type of sea to be more comfortable paddling in than when waves were reaching me from the rear quarters and I couldn’t see them approaching and be ready with a bracing stroke. After ten days on the water, I felt surprisingly stable and confident even in these rough conditions, a feeling I no doubt would not have had going solo on my first day out. There was a ferry making the crossing at the same time but since it was going in the opposite direction, it was easy to keep an eye on its position and avoid its course. I did have to keep looking over my shoulder to make sure there was no ferry headed my way from the stern. Since my destination for the evening was close to the ferry terminal, it was inevitable that there would be ferry traffic in the area. The weather was clear and visibility was not a problem. I would not attempt this crossing in fog or at night however.


My campsite at the Willingdon Beach campground in Powell River.

My destination for this day was the Willingdon Beach Campground in Powell River. The evening before I had called the park office to find out their location in comparison to landmarks I could see from Grilse Point. The manager was very helpful and the directions she gave me got me right to the campgrounds beach. This kept me from wasting any time or effort trying to find the location along a crowded urban shoreline. It took me two hours to make the four-mile crossing, but since I had left so early, I was there by 8:30am. I was surprised to see my kayaking friend from four days ago already there with her campsite set up on the beach. We spent hours talking about our adventures over the last few days and how the winds seemed to conspire to keep us from leaving Texada Island.


The campsites here were convenient for an Inside Passage kayaker.

After unloading my boat and setting up camp, I took a hot shower and got into some clean clothes. I spent the rest of the day eating and shopping for supplies for the next leg of the trip. There are plenty of stores in Powell River within a one-mile walk of the campground. This makes it a perfect place for a kayaker to stop and re-supply. The next chance to get groceries at a full sized supermarket would not come until Port Hardy another twelve days paddle away. The campground had a Laundromat so I took the opportunity to clean all my clothes. This was the last campground I stayed at until reaching Alder Bay ten days later.

Day 13 - Wednesday - June 20 - Powell River to North Copeland Island

First Leg - Days 13-24 - Powell River BC to Port Hardy BC





The main natural and man made features encountered along this stretch of the route include: The city of Powell River, the Strait of Georgia, Desolation Sound, the Discovery Islands, Lewis Channel, Calm Channel, Yuculta Rapids, Big Bay Resort, Dent Rapids, Cordero Channel, Cordero Lodge, Greene Point Rapids, Whirlpool Rapids, Johnstone Strait, the Boat Bay Orca Patrol Base, Robson Bight, Telegraph Cove, Alder Bay, Broughton Strait, Queen Charlotte Strait, and the town of Port Hardy.

My kayaking friend had some last minute errands to run this morning so I launched at 9:10am with plans to meet up later in the day at a campsite on the Copeland Islands. High tide this morning was at 9:30am so I was able to ride a rising tide creating a current flowing northwest in my direction of travel up the coast of the Malaspina Peninsula.
Just north of Powell River, I passed the local paper mill with around ten old rusty ships halfway sunk in the shallows creating a breakwater for the mills dock facility. The sight was extraordinary. Considering how clean the rest of the coast had been so far, this place looked liked a dumping ground for old ships.


Heading up the coast of the Malaspina Peninsula.

The shoreline all the way to Lund was dotted with nicely kept homes looking out over the Malaspina Strait. A campground just south of Lund with sites right on the water, would be a convenient access spot for kayakers either starting or ending a trip in this area. Lund is the last spot along this stretch of the Inside Passage route that is accessible by road until reaching Telegraph Cove on Vancouver Island about an eight-day paddle away.
When I reached the Copeland Islands, I headed to a campsite recommended in one of the guidebooks for the area. This was to be the rendezvous point with my friend. After checking it out, it was obvious this site would not do. The moon was new, and the tides this evening would be close to the highest of the month. This site offered no spot to camp above high tide. I continued looking for a suitable campsite, actually making a complete circumnavigation of the largest Copeland Island, still with no luck. With the wind and current remaining in my favor, I decided to keep on going and hope to find a good site before dark.
Today’s episode was a good indication of how hard it can be to try and kayak with a partner and have plans to meet up at some pre-determined location. There are just too many things can change throughout the day. I had wasted over an hour, and paddled three miles further than I would have if I was on my own and not trying to be somewhere, someone was expecting me to be.


The beach at the North Copeland Island campsite.

As I approached the last small group of islands in the Copeland’s I spotted a small gravel beach where landing was possible. Even though there was no campsite visible, I felt it was at least worth checking out. When I got up into the trees, I was surprised to find a sign showing that it was a British Columbia Marine Trail campsite. I found it interesting there was no sign visible from the water alerting weary paddlers to the campsite. The site had two very nice tent platforms up in the forest along with an outhouse.


My tent set up on the platform on North Copeland Island.

After blowing hard all day the wind really picked up around 10pm with gusts of what I believe were around 40mph. I could hear branches being broken from the trees all around me and just hoped that no big ones fell on me while I was asleep in the tent.
I had made it to my campsite at 4pm after paddling 21 miles in around 7 hours.

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Day 14 - Thursday - June 21 - North Copeland Island to North Rendezvous Island

Crossing Desolation Sound with Kinghorn Island straight ahead.

The strong winds and a pain in my shoulder kept me up most of the night so I got off to a late start launching at 11am. The day started with beautiful clear skies and a wind out of the south that helped to push me along all day.
Crossing Desolation Sound was the only real obstacle on today’s paddle. The weather was cooperating though and the four-mile crossing went without a hitch. Kinghorn Island out in the middle of the sound did come in handy as a windbreak. As the wind was coming out of the south west at around 15mph I went around the south east side of the island and was able to stay in it’s wind shadow all the way to Redonda Island on the north side of the sound.


Refuge Cove

I stopped at Refuge Cove to check out the marina and fill my water bottles. The small store there did not have much in the way of supplies, and the water faucet at the dock had a sign indicating the water was not potable.


Heading up Lewis Channel north of Refuge Cove.

As I headed out of Refuge Cove into Lewis Channel, I got my first look at snow-covered peaks off in the distance. This was why I had come all this way to paddle and the scenery in front of me made it all worthwhile. The wind was still blowing, but now that I was in the confines of Lewis Channel, the waves were not as big a problem as they had been while crossing Desolation Sound. The clouds started to thicken, and the sky got darker, but the rain held off with not much more than a scattered drizzle. There were no good spots to camp along Lewis Channel as the shoreline consisted of boulders and shear rock all the way to the waterline. Above the rocks was an impenetrable wall of vegetation.


Lewis Channel

I continued paddling up Lewis Channel to it’s junction with Calm Channel, Deer Passage, and Sutil Channel. The Rendezvous Islands, my destination for this evening, were located right at the intersection of these channels. The southernmost of these three islands is a BC Marine Trail Park. There was supposed to be campsites at both the northern and southern ends of this island but after looking carefully, I could find neither. My only alternative now was to keep going and hope I would run into a suitable campsite soon. When I reached the north tip of the northern most Rendezvous Island, there at last, was a place to land with a level tent site above high tide. This campsite was interesting in that it was located on a tiny island connected to the largest of the Rendezvous Islands by a gravel beach. This beach is exposed at low tide and covered at high tide, cutting off access to the larger island.


Rendezvouis Island appears off in the distance in Calm Channel.

After landing at 6pm I set up my tent, had something to eat, and fell asleep early. I had covered 24 miles today in seven hours.


My campsite at the north end of North Rendezvous Island.

Day 15 - Friday - June 22 - Layover day on North Rendezvous Island

Today was the day that I planned to paddle through Yuculta Rapids by Stuart Island. The timing for passage through this channel has to be done carefully. When the tides are in the middle of their cycle, the currents in the channel are at their peak, creating whirlpools and rips that can easily turn over a kayak. Passage must take place at slack, when the tide is neither rising nor falling and so no current is created.


The view from my campsite at the north end of north Rendezvous Island.

Normally I would have checked the tides the evening before and made note of the best time to launch the following day. I had been so tired, and had landed so late the night before, that I put it off, planning to do it early in the morning. Now that I was up and checking the tide times, I found that the time had already passed for me to make it to Yuculta Rapids at slack tide. I chalked it up to another lesson learned and decided that I would not go to sleep again without looking up the tides for the following day.


The campsite on North Rendezvous Island.

Since I had only taken two days off in the past two weeks I did not feel bad about taking another break day. It drizzled off and on all day so I took the opportunity to just sit under the tarp and relax, eat, drink, and make some adjustments to my equipment. I also used the time to calculate exactly when I would have to launch the following day to arrive at Yuculta Rapids at slack tide.


Looking across Calm Channel and up Raza Passage fron Rendezvous Island.

Around mid-day, my kayaking friend who I had last seen in Powell River paddled up to where I was camped. She had found a campsite the night before a few miles back on a peninsula jutting out into Lewis Channel at Teakerne Arm on West Redonda Island. We swapped stories of our adventures over the last two days and found that neither one of us could find the campsites, that according to our guidebook, were supposed to be located on the Copeland and Rendezvous Islands.
In order to double-check our calculations for tomorrow’s passage through Yuculta Rapids, we compared the times that each of us had figured out independently. I used the electronic tide table on my Palm Pilot and she used the standard paper tide tables. Upon comparison, the times were just a couple of minutes apart. This made us both feel much more confident about paddling through this dangerous passage tomorrow.

Day 16 - Saturday - June 23 - North Rendezvous Island to Big Bay on Stuart Island

Heading north up Calm Channel after launching from Rendezvous Island.

When making the trip through Yuculta Rapids the currents are weaker at slack tide turning to ebb than at slack tide turning to flood so I timed my passage for the weaker slack tide to ebb. The current table to use for Yuculta Rapids is Gillard Pass. If you are going through at ebb, like I was, add 5 minutes to the figures for Gillard Pass to get the time when Yuculta turns to slack. If you are going through at slack turning to flood, add 25 minutes to the figures for Gillard Pass. For example, on June 23, the current table for Gillard Pass showed slack turning to ebb at 12:40pm. I added 5 minutes to that and knew that the current would be slack in Yuculta Rapids at 12:45pm. Now all I had to do was be there waiting to go through at 12:45pm.


A rain squall on Calm Channel.

I was glad to have company for this section of the trip as I had never experienced saltwater rapids before and did not know exactly what to expect. It was comforting to know that we had both figured out the time of slack tide to within minutes and that we would not be going through at the wrong time and get into trouble.


This is the lighted navigation marker at the southern tip of Stuart Island.

We had six miles to paddle to the tip of Stuart Island where the entrance to the rapids begins. Not wanting to be late for our rendezvous with Yuculta, we launched at 9:10am and had no difficulty making the six miles in two hours. We found a small bay with a dock at the tip of Stuart Island and pulled in to wait out the next hour and a half. At 12:30pm, we pulled out of the bay and slowly started making our way around the tip of the island and towards the infamous Yuculta Rapids that were about a half mile away.


This is what Yuculta Rapids looks like at slack tide.

After all the agony of anticipating this section of the trip, and all the horror stories we had heard about these treacherous waters, the surface turned out to be smooth and calm. We realized though that if we had not done our homework, and taken the timing of running this stretch seriously, the outcome could have been much different.


Looking out from under the pavilion at Big Bay.

The destination for tonight was “Big Bay” on Stuart Island and being just past Yuculta Rapids we arrived there at 1pm. At Big Bay, there is a large municipal pier with a smooth pebble beach at its base that is perfect for landing a kayak. Just a short walk from the beach is a small grocery store with a huge pavilion full of tables and chairs. There is a grassy lawn where you can camp for a small fee, and best of all, a clean bathroom with hot showers. After carrying up all our gear and the kayaks and setting up camp, we started heating up something to eat on a table under the pavilion. Just then, it started to pour down rain. This was the hardest rain I had encountered yet on the trip, and I could not have been in a better place to have to deal with it. I did not know it at the time, but this rain would continue uninterrupted all the way to launch time tomorrow.


The dock at Big Bay on a very rainy day.

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Day 17 - Sunday - June 24 - Big Bay on Stuart Island to Cordero Lodge

The dock at Big Bay.

Timing of today’s departure was critical to paddling another area of potentially turbulent water known as Dent Rapids, and then hopefully riding the ebb current north through Cordero Channel. Slack turning to ebb today was at 1:45pm so we planned our departure from Big Bay for 1:15pm. This would put us at the narrow pass north of Dent Island right at slack. This pass is about two miles from Big Bay, and although it skirts the worst area of Dent Rapids, we did not want to take any chances and so planned our transit of it for slack tide.


Paddling out of Big Bay with Dent Island straight ahead.

The planning paid off, as the water was essentially calm except for a spot where we encountered a few boils just past Dent Island. These boils create a surface condition that seems to make the kayak a little unstable, like when you try to ride a bike very slowly. I found that by just continuing to paddle through it, balance could be easily maintained.


The pass between Dent Island and the mainland.

We stayed close to shore along the north or mainland side of Cordero Channel until at about five miles, we reached Horn Point. From here we crossed over to the Sonora Island side. About three miles further on, Cordero Channel is bisected by Frederick Arm and Nodales Channel. This creates a crossing of about two miles that affords beautiful views in every direction. The shoreline in this area is devoid of campsites, as the thick forest vegetation extends all the way down to the high tide line, where bare rocks make up the waters edge.


Cordero Channel

Finding a campsite would not be a problem tonight, as our destination for this evening was the Cordero Lodge, a convenient fifteen miles from Big Bay. This lovely little bastion of civility in an otherwise remote wilderness is an incredible site to see nestled in a cove beneath towering spruce trees. After landing and tying up to their floating dock, it became apparent that the entire establishment was floating on a huge log raft, cement deck and all.


Cordero Channel

Cordero Lodge is owned and operated by Doris and Reinhardt Kuppers. They offer lodging, a nice restaurant serving excellent German food, and a dock for your boat. Access their website at http://www.corderolodge.com/ where you can check out their facilities before leaving home.
This was the only evening on the first leg of the trip that my cell phone would not receive a signal and I could not make a call home to check in.

Day 18 - Monday - June 25 - Cordero Lodge to Hardwicke Island

I don't have any photos from the water on this day because my Go-Pro waterproof camera would not work. These photos were taken with my Sony camera which I only used while on shore.


The Cordero Lodge.

Today’s route involved paddling through two areas where tidal rapids are created by swift flowing tidal currents. Just two miles from Cordero Lodge was Greene Point Rapids and then thirteen miles further on would be Whirlpool Rapids. If the timing of the passage through these rapids is done correctly, a paddler will not even know there is a hazard in the area. The strategy for running Green Point Rapids, is to go through at slack before ebb. From here, the falling tide will provide a push all the way down Chancellor and Wellbore Channels to Whirlpool Rapids.


The dock at Cordero Lodge.

Although we were ready to go early in the morning, we had to wait until 12:45pm to launch to be at Greene Point Rapids at slack, which would be at 1:45pm today. We paddled slowly along the north shore of Cordero Channel and were able to sneak through the small opening between Cordero Island and the mainland. We continued hugging the north shore all the way to Loughborough Inlet. Taking this route at slack tide allowed us to completely avoid any rough water altogether.


The Cordero Lodge.

Guidebooks for this area indicated that there were few if any possible campsites along this stretch of the route. The only campsite that would be possible to reach today, was in a small bay near the western end of Hardwicke Island. This meant that it would be impossible to wait for slack tide to make the run through Whirlpool Rapids, as we would not be able to reach this campsite before dark. These rapids were also noted to not be as bad as the others we had encountered already, so the decision was made to approach cautiously and see what the water looked like before heading through. No standing waves or rushing water was present, but there were many spots where the water was boiling to the surface as it was deflected off submerged rocks. By just keeping a steady stroke, with the paddle constantly in the water for balance, we made it through with no problem.
We turned the corner into Sunderland Channel at 6pm, still riding the falling tide and with the wind at our backs. Just as the guidebooks had said, there was no place to camp anywhere along this stretch of the Hardwicke Island shoreline. We kept paddling close to shore hoping to find our home for the evening at any moment. At 7:45pm after paddling 23 miles in 7 hours, we finally reached the small bay, which held a nice campsite located on a gravel peninsula between a small island and the shore.


The campsite on Hardwicke Island.

This campsite was fine for this evening because the tides would be in the low range. If high spring tides had been due overnight, the beach would have been unusable. A few spots in the trees above the beach could provide a passable campsite if necessary.
Since Hardwicke Island is so big and remote, it was the first place I had camped on this leg of the trip that actually held the possibility of running into a Brown Bear. Since there were no trees nearby suitable for hanging a food cache, we placed our food far away from the tents in accordance with good bear avoidance practices.

Day 19 - Tuesday - June 26 - Hardwicke Island to The Broken Islands

I don't have any photos from the water on this day because my Go-Pro waterproof camera would not work. These photos were taken with my Sony camera which I only used while on shore.

We woke up to a calm cloudy day at our campsite on Hardwicke Island. Low tide this morning was at 6:15am and the shoreline was far out over a field of barnacle-encrusted boulders. We decided that it would be best to wait for the tide to rise and bring the shoreline closer to us so that we would not have to carry the boats and gear over this dangerous obstacle. The first high tide today was at 12:45pm but by 12 noon, it was high enough to float our already loaded kayaks right off the gravel beach.
At launch time, the winds were calm and the seas smooth, so we headed straight across Sunderland Channel for two miles to the mainland side of Johnstone Strait. We followed the coastline contours westward staying about a quarter mile offshore, always on the lookout for interesting scenery and wildlife.
By around 3:00pm the wind had picked up out of the southeast and was hitting us from the left rear. The wind was blowing over a long distance of the strait so two foot waves were beginning to form. At one point, I paddled right over an area of what must have been shallow water and the waves started to rise up to compensate for the now shallower seabed. Where one minute I was paddling in two-foot seas I was now paddling in what I estimate were four-foot seas. Since I was going in the same direction as the waves I did not see the wave size changing until I was right on it. This was the first “___ ____” moment of the trip. I kept paddling and braced into each wave as it hit and in about a minute, I was out of the worst of it.


Two cruise ships head east on Johnstone Straight viewed from the Broken Islands.

Our destination for the evening was the Broken Islands at the entrance to Port Harvey. Although camping on a small island did not guarantee a bear free campsite, I tried to stay on one whenever possible to lessen chance encounters. I always seemed to sleep better when not worried about waking up in the middle of the night and finding Yogi had stopped by for a visit.


The campsite on Broken Island was very small and just barely above high tide.

There were not many campsites to pick from in the Broken Islands. After covering 17 miles in 5 hrs. 45 min. we were able to find a beach far enough above high tide to provide a dry spot for the night. If tonight’s high tide had been a spring tide, this site would have been unusable as it would have been underwater. Last nights high tide was just 0.3 feet lower that tonight’s, and we could see flotsam on the beach marking its high point, so we were sure we would be safe here for the night.

Day 20 - Wednesday - June 27 - The Broken Islands to Johnstone Strait near Robson Bight

Low tide at launch time from my Broken Island campsite.

As I awoke this morning around 6am, the tide was still on its way out reaching the low point of the day at 6:50am. Just as the day before, the waterline was about thirty yards out across a field of barnacle covered rocks over which I really didn‘t want to have to carry my boat and all my gear. By the time, I had eaten breakfast, broken down camp, and packed everything up, the water level had reached a gravel area near the campsite where my loaded kayak was sitting. This allowed me to essentially sit in the boat and wait for the tide to float me off the beach.


Looking out across Johnstone Strait from the Broken Islands.

We continued west down Johnstone Strait passing Forward Bay and hugging the coast of West Cracroft Island. After paddling for about three hours into a light headwind and against a small current it was time to take a break. I started looking for a convenient beach to land on and soon found one that was perfect. It is located on the chart, right by a compass rose. As I approached, I saw a black bear on the beach turning over logs with its paw and foraging for something to eat. I stayed quiet and the bear did not see me at first, giving me enough time to get its picture. I figured it would be best to leave this beach to the bear, and continued on looking for another beach on which to take a break.


A nice beach for a break stop.

After paddling a half-mile, I spotted another suitable beach. As I approached, I was amazed to find a second black bear, this time a cub, foraging right on the beach. Not only did I not want to bother the little guy in his search for lunch, but I also figured mom would be somewhere nearby in the bushes. So on my way I went.


Heading west up Johnstone Strait.

About another half mile down the coast was a similar beach that looked promising. As I approached it, unbelievably, there was a third black bear foraging. By now, I did not want to land anywhere on that coastline for fear of having lunch interrupted by an ursine interloper. This experience with the three bears turned out to be one of my favorite memories on this first leg of my Inside Passage journey.


Looking across Johnstone Strait toward the Tsitika River valley and Robson Bight.

At 2:20pm, we arrived at the Boat Bay Orca Patrol Base. This is a research station manned by university students who study Orcas and protect the nearby area of Robson Bight, which is an Orca sanctuary. We had a look around and visited with the staff for a couple of hours, then decided it was time to head off for this evenings destination. We paddled around to Swaine Point and then headed diagonally across Johnstone Strait for the three-mile open water crossing to a beach on Vancouver Island.


The Boat Bay orca patrol base across from Robison Bight.

I had camped on this beach during three other trips to the area. Each time I launched from Telegraph Cove and paddled east along the shoreline. The site always provided the perfect viewpoint from which to spot the many pods of Orcas that frequent this area of the Inside Passage. It is located a mile west of the Robson Bight Ecological Reserve.


Getting ready to head across Johnstone Strait from near Swaine Point.

It took us an hour and forty minutes to cross the strait, fighting a headwind and opposing current the whole way. We arrived at our destination after paddling 16 miles in 7 hours.
Since we planned on taking the next day off from paddling, and the chance of spotting Orcas was good, I decided to stay up late and keep a lookout. I lit my first campfire of the trip using some of the abundant driftwood that had collected on the beach. By 11pm, with darkness setting in, I had not spotted a single dorsal fin so I decided to call it a night and try again tomorrow.


Sunset over Johnstone Strait.

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Day 21 - Thursday - June 28 - Bad weather layover day on Johnstone Strait

This turned out to be a good day to take a break. It had started raining overnight and would continue all day. The wind was blowing hard out of the east directly down Johnstone Strait creating two to three foot waves with breaking whitecaps. Paddling today would have been not only uncomfortable but also probably dangerous so I was happy to kick back and relax for the first time in six days.


A cruise ship heads east through Johnstone Strait.

I set up my tarp so I could sit comfortably out of the rain and keep watch for Orcas. Since I was not going anywhere I decided to see how much I could eat. The somewhat hectic pace of the last few days had not left much time to have a peaceful meal so today was the day to catch up. I started up my alcohol stove, collected water pouring off my tarp, and proceeded to lighten up my food cache. I filled all my water bottles with rainwater and spent the afternoon re-reading the sections covering this area in the two guidebooks I had with me.


Looking east down Johnstone Strait and across the Robson Bight Ecological Reserve.

This beach is usually great for spotting Orcas but either none were in the area, or large waves obscured their dorsal fins. Either way, by the end of the second evening at this spot, I had not spotted even one.
Normally one of the easiest ways to see Orcas is to look for the tourist whale watching boats out of Telegraph Cove. These boats receive the location of Orca pods from spotter planes that fly around the area and radio back the coordinates to the captains. Since the tour boat operators guarantee their guests an Orca sighting, they will not leave port unless they know right where to go to find Orcas. If a tourist boat is spotted drifting by slowly, you can be sure there are Orcas nearby.
Last night before the rain started, I collected a pile of firewood and covered it with a blue tarp to keep it dry. When the rain finally ended around 5pm, I uncovered the pile and got a fire going. After it was established, I started adding wet wood that had been out in the rain for the last 18 hours. If not for this dry stash of wood, I doubt if I would have been able to get a fire going this evening.
Unbelievably my cell phone was still picking up a signal and I was able to call home with my location and plans for the next few days.

Day 22 - Friday - June 29 - Johnstone Strait near Robson Bight to Alder Bay

Getting my kayak packed up and ready to launch.

What a difference a day makes. After the rain and wind of yesterday I woke up today to a calm sunny day. I took my time getting ready this morning to give the sun a chance to dry off some of my things before packing them away.
The beach at this campsite is composed of small pebbles, smoothed by wave action, and affords a good landing or launch site no matter what the tide level. I carried my kayak and all my gear down to about 10 feet from the waters edge and started loading it up. By the time I had finished packing the boat, the water level had risen to meet me. It was 9:15am as I slid off the slick gravel and into Johnstone Strait.


Rounding the Blinkhorn Peninsula in Johnstone Strait.

I paddled northwest along the coast of Vancouver Island for 8 miles toward Telegraph Cove. All along this route are beaches that large numbers of kayakers use as base camps for exploring the area and watching for Orcas. In fact, I saw more kayakers on this day than on all the rest of the days of the trip combined. Most kayakers who visit this area launch from Telegraph Cove where there is a marina with a boat launch ramp, floating dock, store, restaurant, showers, laundry, campground, lodging, and multi day parking lot. For those who do not have their own boat, kayak rentals are available, as are guided commercial tours.
The current and a light breeze were with me and by 11:30am, I was pulling up to the dock at Telegraph Cove. It had started raining and I was looking forward to warming up and getting something different to eat from the camping food I had been eating for the past three weeks. The “Killer Whale” restaurant provided the perfect meal, a big burger with fries and a salad.
After lunch, I continued toward today’s destination, Alder Bay. The current was now against me, and the strongest I had encountered yet on the trip. I stayed close to shore and out of the strongest flow and was able to make good headway.


Looking across Alert Bay toward Cormorant Island from the campground at Alder Bay.

At 3pm, I landed at the campground at Alder Bay after covering 12 miles in six hours including the stop at Telegraph Cove for lunch. This turned out to be a good place to spend the night. There are campsites right at the waters edge and it was easy to unload and carry all my gear just a few feet to a grassy tent site. After settling in, I was able to take a shower and then wash all my clothes for the first time since Powell River 10 days ago. Alder Bay campground would be a good spot to use as a base camp for exploring the nearby islands or setting off into Johnstone Strait.

Day 23 - Saturday - June 30 - Alder Bay to Peel Island

Getting ready to launch from Alder Bay.

After looking over the tide and current tables for today, and the chart indicating I should travel on an ebbing tide, I decided to leave as early as possible to take advantage of favorable currents. When I launched at 6:45am the weather was just cloudy and gray, but before long, it started to rain, and it did not stop until 3pm. The temperature also dropped today to the coldest I had yet encountered on the trip.


Paddling through Alert Bay with Cormorant Island on the right and Vancouver Island on the left.

The shoreline along this stretch of Vancouver Island was mostly mile after mile of shallow gravel beaches backed up by unremarkable lowlands. There was also more kelp than I had seen anywhere else along the route so far. The kelp turned out to be helpful because it calmed the waves stirred up by the winds in Queen Charlotte Strait. I was able to stay on course while picking my way through channels in the kelp beds.


The Coast Range comes into view across Queen Charlotte Strait as Malcolm Island is passed on the right.

On a clear day, the view across the strait would have been spectacular with the Coast Range rising up on the mainland showing off its snow-covered peaks. Today though I had to keep my head down and paddle for hours into the wind with the rain in my face and the scenery obscured by low gray clouds and mist.


Round, Deer, and Peel Islands come into view in Beaver Harbor.

I only stopped once today for a quick break. I found that as long as I was paddling I could stay warm but if I stopped for just a short time chills began to set in. From miles off, I could make out a group of islands that held my destination for this evening, Peel Island. I could not get there soon enough.


My campsite on Peel Island.

I could see planes taking off and landing from the Port Hardy airport that was visible from the water and marked on my chart. I knew I was getting close. As I passed Deer Island and entered Beaver Harbor, the seas calmed and I was able relax a little for the first time today. Peel Island came into view and I started searching for a suitable campsite. At 2:15pm, after paddling 23 miles in 7 ½ hours I found the perfect spot, a crushed shell beach on the far west side of the island. As if on queue, the rain stopped just as I was setting up camp giving me the first break of the day.

Day 24 - Sunday - July 1 - Peel Island to Port Hardy

Since I only had a short distance to paddle today, I slept until 8am and took my time getting ready. The tide was also very low around this time and an early launch would have required carrying my boat and all my gear over a barnacle-encrusted bed of rocks to reach the water. It seemed best to wait for the water level to rise before setting off.


Queen Charlotte Strait from Daedalus Passage.

This strategy turned out to have an unexpected benefit. As I was having breakfast, a Humpback Whale started cruising around just offshore. For a while, the only thing that gave away the whales presence was the small dorsal fin and the sound of breathing as it broke the surface. Then it started breaching, repeatedly hitting the waters surface creating loud slaps. I grabbed my digital camera, set it to video mode, and was able to capture the spectacle as it unfolded right in front of me. After a series of breaches that lasted a couple of minutes, the whale took a breath then showed me his tail as he disappeared for the last time. What a great show on my last day of paddling.


I could see clear across Queen Charlotte Strait as I rounded the headland east of Hardy Bay.

I launched at 11:30am as the tide rose and lifted me off the crushed shell beach. My route today took me through Daedalus Passage and the Masterman Islands group. The weather was perfect, with mild temperatures and light winds. The Coastal mountain range was clearly visible across Queen Charlotte Strait and the small islands along the route were some of the prettiest I had seen on the trip. Once I rounded the peninsula that makes up the eastern side of Port Hardy, I could see my final destination come into view. I stayed close to shore until I reached Daphne Point then headed across Hardy Bay to the Scotia Bay campground where this year’s trip would end.


My kayak and gear at the Scotia Bay campground.

Today’s paddle was only 7 miles and took less than two hours. It was a funny thing but I did not want it to end. I had been out for 24 days with 20 days of paddling and 4 for layover. I had paddled over 300 miles and had a great adventure. Next May, I plan to return to Port Hardy and continue up the Inside Passage to Skagway Alaska, another 950 miles.


My post trip photo was appropriately taken in a pouring rain.

This leg of the trip had gone pretty much as I had expected and planned. There are a few changes I plan to make to my equipment and provisions for next years trip. I plan to bring some of my favorite foods that I will have dehydrated in advance and sent ahead to post offices in towns along the route awaiting my arrival. I also will have a new tent that is waterproof and instead of a rainfly, a floorless pyramid shelter for cooking while it is raining.

THE SECOND LEG STARTS HERE

My campsite at the Sunny Sanctuary campground in Port Hardy.

After spending the last seven days driving 3,140 miles from my home near New Orleans Louisiana, I had finally arrived at my departure point for the second leg of my Inside Passage kayak trip, Port Hardy, British Columbia on Vancouver Island. This year’s trip would start from the Sunny Sanctuary Campground in Port Hardy, not far from where last years trip had ended. I spent a couple of days taking care of last minute details like shipping food packages ahead to three towns in Canada where I would be stopping. I also arranged for the storage of my van at the campground for the two months I would be gone. I used most of the last day, packing up my clothing and equipment, and working out the best way to fit everything in the boat. Things that were not absolutely necessary were left behind.


This is the launch spot on the Quatse River at the Sunny Sanctuary campground.

Day 1 - Tuesday - May 27 - Port Hardy to Shelter Bay

Second Leg - Days 1-8 - Port Hardy to Shearwater



The main natural and man made features encountered along this stretch of the route include the city of Port Hardy, Queen Charlotte Sound, Cape Caution, Smith Sound, Rivers Inlet, Duncanby Landing, Fitz Hugh Sound, Namu, Lama Passage, and Shearwater.


Getting ready to launch from the Sunny Sanctuary campground in Port Hardy.

Today I started on the second leg of my Inside Passage kayak trip. Al, the Sunny Sanctuary campground manager, met me at 6am to see me off, and take a few photos of me launching. After carrying my kayak to the waters edge and loading it with all my equipment, I pushed off at 6:50am on a very overcast and peaceful day.


Finally in the water and ready to go.

The harbor in Port Hardy was coming to life with fishermen busily getting their boats ready for a day on the water. In a short time, I passed the spot where my trip had ended a year earlier at the Scotia Bay Campground. At 8:25am, I was passing Duval Island at the northwest corner of Hardy Bay.


The Gordon Islands come into view from Hardy Bay.

Goletas Channel lay ahead of me, the first of many big open water crossings I would make on this years trip. The water was calm as glass, but I knew that winds could build at any time so I wasted no time heading across toward the Gordon Islands 3 ½ miles away. I passed through the Gordon Islands at 9:25am and headed across Gordon Channel toward the southeast tip of Deserters Island, which I reached at 10:30am.


Looking up the coast of Vancouver Island as I cross Goletas Channel to the Gordon Islands.

The weather remained incredibly quiet and I did not want to miss the opportunity to make it across Queen Charlotte Strait my first day out. I immediately headed across Ripple Passage toward the Millar Group Islands. I was paddling a bit to the east of my intended route, so as I crossed Richards Channel, the last big crossing in Queen Charlotte Strait, I ended up going off the edge of my 1:100,000 scale chart. When I hit the mainland, I quickly realized I had gone too far east. This four-mile long detour ended up costing me an extra hour of paddling to get back on course. After a few days of chart reading, I became more proficient. I would not go off course again during the remainder of the trip.


Looking across Ripple Passage to the Millar Island Group.

The weather on Queen Charlotte Strait is not usually as tranquil as what I experienced on this day. I was extremely fortunate to have calm weather for this big open water crossing on my first day of paddling. The three island groups that separate Queen Charlotte Strait into four smaller channels offer shelter and camp opportunities for kayakers if winds pick up, or fog moves in, making conditions too dangerous to continue.


After crossing Queen Charlotte Strait I am finally paddling up the mainland shoreline.

After covering 21 miles in 6 hours and 40 minutes, I reached my first day’s destination in Shelter Bay at 1:30pm. Shelter Bay has a big sand beach with tent sites up in the trees for high tide nights, a stream to refill water bottles, and no shortage of bugs. The bugs did not bite much, but were so numerous that they got in my eyes and ears and were just annoying making every chore just a little bit harder. I noted in my logbook that there were so many bugs hitting the outside of my tent it sounded like rain.


The beach in Shelter Bay comes into view.

The BC Park Service had signs posted all around Shelter Bay warning campers that a cougar had been frequenting the area. This information gave me a bit of a creepy feeling, knowing that a big cat might be hiding in the trees and stalking me as I moved about. The only thing I could do was to constantly be on the lookout, and keep my pepper spray with me at all times. After spending 18 hours at the site, I saw no sign of a cougar, and my stay at Shelter Bay was thankfully uneventful.


The beach at Shelter Bay.

Day 2 - Wednesday - May 28 - Shelter Bay to Skull Cove

Heading out of Shelter Bay on a rainy morning.

My watch alarm woke me up this morning at 5am to the sound of a light rain falling on my tent. After a breakfast of some coffee and oatmeal, I got all my gear packed and launched at 7:30am. Today’s destination was Skull Cove on Bramham Island. It was only eight miles away from Shelter Bay, and protected for the most part from the winds of Queen Charlotte Strait by dozens of small islands and rock outcrops. According to information available in guidebooks, Skull Cove would offer me the last good campsite before attempting to round Cape Caution. Since I traveled further yesterday than expected, and passing up Skull Cove was not an option, the distance of today’s route was much shorter than planned.


Paddling through the sheltered waters of the Southgate Island Group.

The weather today was heavily overcast and although it was not raining, there was a constant mist in the air. The wind was blowing at around 10 mph and I had to put on my neoprene paddling gloves for the first time on the trip.
I also found that a couple of new pieces of gear would come in handy for the first time today. Last year my ears and neck were often cold on windy wet days, so this year I was prepared with a fleece ear band and neck gator. These became standard everyday apparel, as the weather was cold, wet, and windy most of the time from this point on.


Skull Cove

By 10:30am, I had reached Skull Cove and entered it on the east side of an island that protects the entrance. Guidebooks had indicated a good place to camp in this cove but a flat level spot above high tide was not immediately obvious. I paddled around until I spotted a grassy damp spot near the west entrance to the cove that would have to do. After unloading the boat and setting up camp I had lunch and then set off with my camera and bear spray to do some exploring.


My campsite in Skull Cove.

Near my campsite were some stairs that led up a cliff and into the trees. These stairs seemed like the natural place to start looking around. At the top of the stairs was an area containing eight small cabins connected by a series of footpaths through the dense underbrush. Among these cabins was a communal kitchen area designed for use by a small number of temporary visitors. A hand painted map on one of the trees showed how trails connected the various cabins. There was no indication of who built these facilities but it looked similar to a whale research site run by a BC university that I had run across further south on Johnstone Strait. The area is set high up on a bluff with great views across Queen Charlotte Sound. This makes it the perfect location to scan the waters for the many types of whales that pass along this section of the BC coast. (After doing some research on the site, I found out that it is a field station used by CERF - Coastal Ecosystems Research Foundation and Earth Watch Institute for housing their staff while in the field studying whales.


My kayak on the low, soggy campsite at Skull Cove.

Today’s short paddle gave me a bit of a break so I could get some extra rest. Tomorrow I would be paddling around the infamous Cape Caution so I hit the sack early and hoped for clear calm weather in the morning.


Looking out across Queen Charlotte Strait from the whale watching camp at Skull Cove.

TO CONTINUE READING ABOUT MY TRIP, CLICK ON THE WORDS "OLDER POSTS" BELOW AND YOU WILL BE BROUGHT TO THE NEXT PAGE.

Day 3 - Thursday - May 29 - Skull Cove to Smith Sound

Cape Caution comes into view off in the distance.

Well the big day had finally arrived. The day I would face Cape Caution and whatever it threw at me. I wanted to get off to an early start so I could put as many miles behind me as possible before the wind started to pick up. Since much of the coastal wind is formed by the air being destabilized as it is warmed by the sun, it is always a good idea to get off to an early start. My alarm woke me up at 4am. By 6am, I had packed up and was shoving off. The day was almost perfect. There was only a one-meter swell coming in off the Pacific and almost no wind.


The waters of Queen Charlotte Strait remained calm as I rounded Cape Caution.

I made my way up the coast past Miles Inlet, the Fox Islands, and Slingsby Channel and had reached Bremner Point by 8am. As I paddled across the wide expanse of Burnett Bay, I heard the distinctive sound of a humpback whale breathing not far away. My new traveling companion was going my way, so he kept me company for a while as I approached Cape Caution. By 9:10am, I was off Wilkie Point and 10 miles from my starting point in Skull Cove. It was hard to believe how lucky I was to round Cape Caution in the calmest weather imaginable, but here I was paddling in smooth water across one of the most dangerous stretches of the Inside Passage. By 10:10am, only a little over four hours into today’s paddle, I was rounding Cape Caution.


A flock of Surf Scoters make their get-away.

I continued paddling without stopping for the next 3 ½ hours passing the landmarks of Neck Ness, Milthorp Point, Macnicol Point, and entering Smith Sound. I arrived at my destination for today, a red sand beach in a cove just past Chest Island, at 1:45pm. It had taken me 7 hours and 45 minutes to travel the 24 miles around Cape Caution and I could breathe a sigh of relief in knowing that the potentially most dangerous part of my trip was behind me.


Entering Alexandra Passage in Smith Sound.

After setting up camp, I did some beachcombing and found that a small cat had visited the area recently and left his footprints behind for me to photograph. A nice creek flows here and is a good place to refill water bottles. The beach seems to be high enough to keep paddlers safely dry above even the highest monthly tides. The last two campsites were in small coves with limited long-range visibility but this site had beautiful long distance views across Smith Sound.


My campsite at the red sand beach.

After three days alone in the wilderness, it seemed that background sounds like wind, waves, and birdcalls were people’s voices talking with each other off in the distance. Before long, I became accustomed to hearing this mix of sounds and the phenomena of distant voices disappeared.


Looking out on Smith Sound from my campsite at the red sand beach.

Day 4 - Friday - May 30 - Smith Sound to Rivers Inlet and Duncanby Marina

I take one last look at my red sand beach campsite before I head out across Smith Sound.

I spent a good night on the red sand beach, although it seemed almost every little noise woke me up. The alarm went off at 5am and I started getting packed. This took a little longer today since I had to get sand off everything before it could be loaded into the boat. Launch time was 7:20am.


Brown Island in Smith Sound has a beach that may be a good campsite.

There were some low sea swells coming in to Smith Sound off the Pacific and only some minor wind waves. The four-mile crossing of Smith Sound with accomplished with no problem. While passing Extended Point, I saw a couple of people walking on the beach of a small island nearby. These were only the second and third people I had seen since launching four days ago, the first being a man in a boat in Skull Cove.


Looking north up Fitz Hugh Sound as I round Kelp head.

As I paddled up the coast around Kelp Head, I had to be cautious of sea swells that would suddenly rise up out of nowhere when they reached a shallow spot or a rock submerged below the surface. In just a couple of seconds, the surface in front of me could change from calm flat water, to a three-foot breaking wave with the potential to flip me instantly. Since this phenomena only occurs in areas exposed to sea swells, it is not something that a paddler encounters along most areas of the Inside Passage.


A nice beach at Open Bight in Rivers Inlet.

The tide was falling as I rounded Cranstown Point creating a one to two mph current against me as the water drained out of Rivers Inlet. I was just barely able to overcome it and make slight headway. As soon as I rounded the point, I was in Open Bight and out of the strong current. I stopped here on a nice big beach and took the first mid-day break of the trip. This would have been a nice place to camp but it was only 11:30am and not time to stop. My destination for today was Duncanby Marina, which lay five miles away in Goose Bay.
As soon as I entered Rivers Inlet, I started seeing lots of different wildlife. All around me were Humpback Whales breaching and diving, sea lions, eagles, and pods of dolphins. By hugging the shoreline, I was able to stay out of the strongest current and I made good time arriving at Duncanby at 1:45pm after paddling 17 miles.


The red roofs of Duncanby Marina come into view as I approach Goose Bay.

Duncanby is easy to spot from far off. The cluster of white buildings with red roofs on the eastern shore of Goose Bay cannot be missed. When I arrived at Duncanby, the manager, Rick Dunn, met me at the dock and informed me that there were three brown bears about 50 yards away. After tying up my boat and grabbing my camera, I was able to get the best bear photos of the trip. The bears consisted of a mother and two cubs feeding along the rocky shoreline completely ignoring us as we moved about on the dock trying to get into the best photo position.


I got this shot of a mother Brown Bear and her two cubs while standing on the Duncanby Marina dock.

Duncanby Lodge and Marina turned out to be a great place to spend the night, and since it was off-season, there were only a couple of other boaters there. During the main season, it may not have even been possible for me to spend the night, as fishing lodges like this are usually crammed with guests, and they do not have the time or inclination to bother with a lone kayaker. Rick turned out to be a gracious off-season host and was able to provide me with a place to sleep, shower, and wash my clothes. To get current information on facilities, seasons, and lodging availability look up Duncanby Lodge on the internet at www.duncanbylodgemarina.com


The lodges at Duncanby Marina.

Day 5 - Saturday - May 31 - Duncanby Marina in Rivers Inlet to a beach near Kwakume Point

After launching from Duncanby Marina I headed out across Rivers Inlet.

The alarm woke me up this morning at 5am and I started getting ready to go. I hade some coffee and oatmeal down on the dock where my boat was tied up, told Rick goodbye and was on my way at 7am. Right after I launched I saw the same three Grizzly bears I had seen yesterday still feeding along the shoreline just a short distance away.


Entering Klaquaek Channel from Rivers Inlet.

The sky was overcast and the wind calm as I crossed Rivers Inlet and made my way up Klaquaek Channel in the Penrose Islands. This is a very pretty area in protected waters and would be a good place to explore by kayak if strong winds were whipping up waves in the outside waters.


Darby Channel with Addenbroke Point ahead.

As I crossed Darby Channel, approaching Addenbroke Point, the wind started to pick up out of the northwest. It built to around 10 to 15 mph and I had to paddle directly into it.


Entering Convoy Passage.

As I entered Convoy Passage and then into Fairmile Pass I got a break from the wind as I was in the wind shadow of a number of small islands.


Looking out across Fitz Hugh Sound from Fairmile Pass.

As I re-entered Fitz Hugh Sound the wind was still blowing strong out of the northwest and was now creating waves that were bouncing off the vertical rock shoreline. These refraction waves created a maelstrom with waves now coming at me from every direction. I had no choice but to keep going as there was no place to land along the rocky shoreline. Luckily, I felt good and was not too tired.


I arrive at my campsite for the evening.

I finally arrived at my destination for the evening, a clamshell beach about a mile south of Kwakume Point, at 5:30pm. I had just paddled 26 miles in 10½ hours, which was a new distance record for me at the time. I did not know it then, but in the weeks to come, this record would be broken a few more times.


Looking south down Fitz Hugh Sound from my campsite beach.

This was a nice campsite with great views up and down Fitz Hugh Sound. There was only one problem. At high tide, most of the beach disappeared under water, and the only level dry spot available was up in the trees. There was no place big enough to set up even a small tent, so I used my bivy sack and hoped it did not start raining overnight. The high tide this night was at 10:50pm so I stayed up late to make sure I had all my gear safely out of reach of high water. At high tide, the water got to within three feet of my sleeping bag but it soon began to drop, and by morning, the entire shell beach was dry again.


High tide almost reaches my campsite at 10:50pm.

Day 6 - Sunday - June 1 - A beach south of Kwakume Point to Namu

Getting ready to launch from my campsite south of Kwakume Point.

Because of the long paddle yesterday, and having to stay up late to make sure my camp was above high tide, I slept late today not getting up until 9am. By the time I launched it was 11:15am. The beach where I spent last night was definitely the only place along this stretch of coastline where camping is possible. Most of the nearby shore is solid rock with few places to land and none to camp. The sky was gray and overcast as I made my way 14 miles north along the eastern shoreline of Fitz Hugh Sound toward today’s destination, Namu.


Looking back at last nights campsite as I paddle off.

The seas were very confused in Fitz Hugh Sound on this day. As wind formed waves hit the vertical rock shoreline, they reflected black into themselves. This created a very choppy condition that made paddling uncomfortable. It was impossible to relax for even a second as I had to be ready at all times to brace if a wave hit me hard. The sensation was similar to that of riding a mechanical bull as it try’s to throw you off by twisting and bucking in every direction. As I reached the shoreline opposite of Hakai Pass the conditions worsened. Now sea swells from the open Pacific were able to enter and cross Fitz Hugh Sound adding their energy to the already rough wind waves. I noted in my logbook this evening that although I made it through this area with only slight discomfort, a novice paddler would have been completely terrified. I speculated that this was possibly mother natures payback for allowing me such an easy crossing of Queen Charlotte Strait and rounding of Cape Caution earlier this week.


Heading north up the eastern shoreline of Fitz Hugh Sound.


Approaching Namu.

I made it to Namu at around 4pm and tied up to the dock.


My kayak on the dock in Namu.

Namu is a very interesting place. The best way I can describe it, is that it is a cross between a 60’s hippy commune and an abandoned Soviet era industrial complex. I am not being critical. The place was cool. The caretakers, Peter and Rene, came out to meet me and made me feel right at home. They showed me around and rented me some bunk space in a large hostel like building that used to be a restaurant when Namu was an operating fish processing plant. They have built a rustic kitchen and dining area on a large floating dock. This was a perfect spot to cook and eat dinner and still be just a few feet away from my kayak stored safely on the dock. There are hot showers, flush toilets, and a washer and dryer but most of all just having a dry place to cook and sleep is a big comfort.


The floating kitchen with it's unique fireplace.

Around 6pm, Peter built a fire in the big open fireplace in the floating dining room. There were a few other boaters docked there in everything from beautiful yachts to small sailboats and fishing boats. We got together around the fire and swapped stories about our experiences along the Inside Passage.
For any kayakers passing through this area Namu is a definite must see.


When Namu was an operating fish cannery workers lived in these houses.

Day 7 - Monday - June 2 - Namu to Shearwater

My kayak on the dock in Namu.

Since I did not have to worry about high tides reaching my campsite or bears stopping by for a mid-night visit, I was able to get a good night sleep in the bunkhouse at Namu. My alarm watch woke me up at 5am and I started packing up and getting organized. I carried my gear down to the dock and made some breakfast in the floating dining room. Rene, Peter, and Tony, a sailor from Alaska that I had talked with yesterday, came over to say good-by and wish me luck on the rest of my trip.
A lone kayaker on a trip like this invariably meets many very nice people who they will most likely never see again. Phrases such as “see-you-later” are inappropriate, as you both know perfectly well that will not happen. Good-By, good-luck, and happy-trails are some-how the only farewells that seem fitting.


Looking north up Fisher Channel.

By 6:40am, I had launched from Namu and was making my way across Burke Channel. The weather was cloudy and calm and paddling today was much easier than yesterday. The tide was rising, creating a current in Fitz Hugh Sound that was going north in the same direction I was paddling. On top of that, the little wind there was came out of the south helping me on my way. I was amazed to see how fast the shoreline was going by. It seemed sometimes like I was flying.


Looking south down Fitz Hugh Sound as I cross over to Hunter Island.

I crossed Fitz Hugh Sound on a diagonal course heading northwest from Humchitt Island, passing Fog Rocks on my right, and reaching the western shore about a mile south of Carpenter Point. By 11am, I had paddled 17 miles, and was rounding Kaiete Point and the entrance to Lama Passage. I had planned to camp somewhere in Lama Passage this evening but the campsites recommended by the guidebooks looked liked they would be underwater at high tide. The day was still early and I felt good so I decided to continue and try to make it in to Shearwater.


A small islet off Hunter Island in Fisher Channel.

By 4pm, I had been paddling 9 hours and 20 minutes and had covered the 32 miles to Shearwater. The weather now was cold, and it looked like it was about to rain. It was not immediately obvious where the best place to tie up would be because all the dock edges were high, so I paddled around the marina until I found the Harbormasters Office. The personnel there directed me to a small dock attached to the gangway where I could tie up. This spot turned out to be perfect, as I did not even have to unload the boat to get it up on the dock. The dock itself sloped into the water like a boat launch ramp so all I had to do was slide my kayak up the slippery wooden boards and tie it up. This turned out to be the easiest landing yet.


Bella Bella appears ahead in Lama Passage.

I grabbed a few things and walked up to the hotel that was located right next to the marina. I kept my fingers crossed as I inquired about a room for the night. My luck held out as they had one room available for the next two nights and it was only $85 a night. Not bad at all I thought, for a nice room in this remote location. Right after I got all the things I needed into the room, it started to rain. The rain continued with virtually no let up the entire time I was in Shearwater.


Shearwater finally comes into view.

Before long I had taken a shower, gotten into dry clothes, and was sitting down in the Shearwater restaurant ordering dinner. After dinner I used a pay phone in the hotel to contact home for the first time in seven days and let everyone know I was still alive and doing fine.

Day 8 - Tuesday - June 3 - Layover day in Shearwater

Shearwater Resort

I enjoyed sleeping late in a real bed for the first time since leaving New Orleans three weeks ago. After having breakfast in the Shearwater restaurant, I picked up some supplies from their grocery store as my clothes were washing in the resorts laundromat. Conveniently connected to the laundromat are individual shower rooms for campers and boaters. These turned out to be the cleanest public showers I encountered on the entire trip.


The lodge at Shearwater.

Shearwater is located across a bay from the town of Bella Bella. A shuttle boat travels back and forth between the two a few times each day so it is possible to take a ride over to visit the town. I had mentioned earlier to one of the staff that I planned to take a shuttle boat over to Bella Bella and have a look around for a few hours. They advised me that there was not much to see and it would be a waste of time to spend three hours there. With that advice, I took a shorter trip that only lasted about an hour. This turned out to be a good decision as there was truly nothing to see in Bella Bella. For a kayaker paddling the Inside Passage I would advise heading straight for Shearwater, bypassing Bella Bella completely.


My kayak on the dock at Shearwater.

I shipped a box of food to myself in Shearwater from Port Hardy before leaving on May 26. The post office had my package waiting for me when I arrived. After removing the food items I would need for the next week, I put a few things in the box that I had not used yet on the trip and shipped it back to the Sunny Sanctuary Campground in Port Hardy. Al held the box for me there until I returned in August.


The restaurant, grocery, and laundry at Shearwater.

I spent the remainder of the time in Shearwater looking around and taking photos, eating and watching TV in the restaurant, and just relaxing my muscles and letting them heal up for the next leg of the trip. For anyone paddling the Inside Passage, Shearwater is the perfect place to stop and get re-energized and re-supplied. For kayakers using an alcohol stove, the marine store carries denatured alcohol or as they call it in Canada, Methyl Hydrate. For more information on Shearwater go to their website at www.shearwater.ca

Day 9 - Wednesday - June 4 - Shearwater to Roar Islet

Second Leg - Days 9-23 - Shearwater, BC to Prince Rupert, BC



The main natural and man made features encountered along this stretch of the route include: Shearwater Resort, Seaforth Channel, Mathieson Channel, Finlayson Channel, Klemtu, Tolmie Channel, Princess Royal Channel, Butedale, McCay Reach, Wright Sound, Hartley Bay, Grenville Channel, the town of Oona River, Chatham Sound, and the city of Prince Rupert.


The Dryad Point Lighthouse comes into view as I enter Seaforth Channel.

After two nights of sleeping in a comfortable hotel bed, and a full day of resting up, I was anxious to get going again on my Inside Passage kayaking adventure. When the alarm went off at 5am, I was ready. My gear was already packed and ready to go so by 6am, my boat was in the water and Shearwater was disappearing behind me.


Looking up Troup Passage.

The sky today was cloudy and the temperature was in the mid 50’s. The tide was falling for the first two hours of paddling, so that helped push me along through Seaforth channel. By the time, I reached Idol Point at 9:20am the tide had started to rise and the current was now against me. I crossed Seaforth Channel where it meets Spiller Channel at the tip of the Don Peninsula. Sea swells were moving up the channel and combined with a headwind and current going against me, slowed me almost to a stop. I kept paddling, slowly making headway of no more than 2mph. Not until reaching Balagny Pass by Watch Island could I get out of the wind and take a break.
It was now 12 noon and I had paddled 18 miles in the past 6 hours, much of it in rough conditions. All I wanted to do now was find a good place to spend the night and stop paddling for a while.


Approaching Roar Islet in Blair Inlet.

Many of the beaches in this area would make great campsites. Most are composed of rounded gravel pebbles, and are elevated enough to ensure a dry campsite above even the highest tides. I spotted a small island off the southeast tip of Cecilia Island in Blair Inlet that seemed to offer the best place to camp in the area. This little island, named Roar Islet, turned out to be the best campsite yet on this leg of the trip. The crushed stone shoreline allowed easy landing and launching at any tide level and a tent site at the top of the beach offered protection from the strong winds blowing off Seaforth Channel. The views from here out across Blair Inlet and Seaforth Channel were beautiful. I spent much of the afternoon watching fishing boats, yachts and ferries as they pushed their way through the rough waters of the nearby channels.


The beach on Roar Islet.

It did not look like rain so, instead of setting up my tent or pyramid fly, I decided to depend on my bivy sack and a small tarp to stay dry. That turned out to be a big mistake, as it started drizzling overnight and continued into the next morning. This would be the last night on the trip that I did not have a rain shelter set up before going to sleep. The next morning as I tried to get dressed for paddling and pack up in the rain, my gear was getting wetter by the minute. All I could do was work as fast as possible to get everything packed before it became completely soaked.

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Day 10 - Thursday - June 5 - Roar Islet to Rescue Bay

Getting ready to launch from Roar Islet at low tide.

The rain, and a noisy sea lion splashing around just offshore, kept me up a good part of the night. I ended up getting off to a late start today, not launching until 9:30am. I headed up Reid Passage in calm water and out of the wind. There were about a dozen small boats anchored in the three coves that indent the shoreline of this narrow channel. These coves offer safe havens to boaters seeking refuge from the strong winds blowing in Milbanke Sound.


Lake Island looms ahead in Mathieson Channel.

The area I was heading into was very interesting. It lay to the north of Port Blackney and to the southeast of Lake Island. The shallow waters here contained hundreds of small rocky outcrops and islets that would make navigation by larger boats hazardous, but assured solitude for a lone kayaker. Seals and sea lions were sunning themselves on many of these rocks, their dark mottled skin keeping them camouflaged from my view, as they seemed to become a part of the rocks themselves. As I approached they would cautiously slip off their rocky perches into the water only to bravely surface nearby to get a better look at this strange creature in their midst.
Flocks of water birds like Murre’s, Surf Scoter’s and Guillemot’s would slowly try to swim out of my path as I approached. Sometimes they succeeded but more often, they took flight and flew a short distance to get away from me.


Mathieson Channel widens near Susan Island.

I made my way around the east side of Lake Island and emerged into Mathieson Channel at 11:30am. A north wind was blowing down Mathieson Channel slowing my progress. By staying close to shore as much as possible, I was able to avoid the strongest wind. I crossed diagonally to the west at Jermaine Point and passed Arthur Island on its west side at 2:15pm. Oscar Passage was the last open water crossing of the day and my destination, Rescue Bay, was almost in sight.


The beach at the campsite in Rescue Bay.

After covering 19 miles, I paddled into Rescue Bay at 4:30pm and started looking for a place to camp. Rescue Bay is an anchorage popular with power boaters who use its protected waters for overnight stays. There are few spots where a kayaker can find a safe campsite. Most of the shoreline was solid rock backed up by thick forest and no site was immediately obvious. After paddling around for a few minutes I spotted a small opening in the trees with a shallow beach in front of it. The beach would obviously be underwater at high tide but if there were space in the trees, this site would do. The small gravel beach made landing easy, and a short trail led up into the woods with a flat spot carved out of the underbrush big enough for one tent. I was thankful to the enterprising kayaker that had visited this location before me, and had taken the time to carve this little site out of the thick forest vegetation.


My campsite in the woods at Rescue Bay.

One thing that made this campsite different from all the others at which I had stayed was the absolute quiet. There was none of the usual sounds of wind or surf hitting a beach or even any birds or other animals moving about in the forest. It was so quiet and the vegetation was so thick that any large animal approaching my camp should have been easy to detect. The only sound that occasionally broke the silence was raindrops falling through the trees and hitting the nylon fabric of my tent.

Day 11 - Friday - June 6 - Rescue Bay to Klemtu

Looking back at my Rescue Bay campsite as I paddle off.

My night in Rescue Bay was very peaceful, and since my paddle today would be rather short, I decided to sleep a little later than normal not getting up until 6am. The tide was very low at my 8:40am launch time and I had to carry all my gear a long way to the waters edge.


Looking north up Mathieson Channel as I make my way through some small islands at the entrance to Rescue Bay.

Today’s route took me through Jackson Passage, which connects Mathieson and Finlayson Channels. This is a beautiful narrow channel bordered by the steep, heavily wooded slopes of Susan and Roderick Islands.


The narrow spot in Jackson Passage.

Guidebooks recommend traveling through a shallow and narrow spot in the channel at high slack tide. Since high tide would not occur for another six hours, I had no choice but to try to make it through now. I went through at one hour before low slack and had no problem. In fact, a few yachts came through right behind me traveling at cruising speed.


Heading west through Jackson Passage.

I reached Begg Point, where Jackson Passage meets Finlayson Channel at 11:20am. As I headed west across Finlayson Channel toward the southern tip of Cone Island, the water was calm as glass. By the time I was half way across, the wind had increased and was whipping up some small waves that were coming straight at me out of the west. I reached Cone Island at 12:05pm and paddled north up Klemtu Pass, reaching today’s destination, Klemtu, at 1:15pm.


Looking north up Finlayson Channel from it's junction with Jackson Passage at Begg Point.

I headed for a place called the Float House that I had read about in some of the guidebooks and on the Klemtu website. The description is of a lodge where a paddler can get a place to sleep for the night. I was hoping they had room for one more. I soon found out that the entire building had been leased to the Canadian Fisheries Department, and that it was not available at all for travelers passing through. After talking with one of the local officials, I got permission to set up my tent on the dock outside the Float House.


A large float plane takes off from Klemtu Pass.

Klemtu has very limited facilities available for a kayaker. There is no lodging available, not even a campground, and the grocery store has a limited selection of food that should not be depended on for re-supply. A snack bar in the grocery can make you a burger and fries but that is the only food service in town. There is a public toilet, shower, and laundry facility that seems to be kept locked until you ask around to find out who has the key. Since there is no public shelter in Klemtu, if it rains while you are there, you will be out of luck as there is no place to get out of the rain except for whatever rain shelter you have with you. My cell phone did work there however, and I was able to contact home and check in.


The dock in Klemtu.

Day 12 - Saturday - June 7 - Klemtu to Green Inlet

My tent and kayak on the dock in Klemtu.

It started raining overnight at my campsite on the dock in Klemtu but I was ready for it this time so it was no problem. I woke up at 5am and walked the ¼ mile to the bathroom then came back, made some coffee, and got ready to go. After launching at 7am, I paddled off in a light drizzle that continued throughout most of the day.


Leaving Klemtu.

Today’s route would take me north out of Klemtu through beautiful Tolmie Channel. The overnight rain had swollen dozens of waterfalls that were now cascading down the steep cliff faces and through the dense evergreen forest. As they roared down, I passed quietly, paddling slowly in the misty drizzle. Clinging to the rocks below the high tide line were hundreds of purple and orange Ochre Sea Stars.


A Sunflower Sea Star.

I spotted a Sunflower Star along this stretch, which was one of only two that I saw on the trip.


A colony of Sea Anemones is exposed at low tide.

One of the most amazing creatures that I spotted along the entire route was clinging to rocks along this section. I believe that it was some type of Anemone. It was tube shaped, flesh colored, and moved slowly as it hung from a rock exposed by low tide. This was the only place that I spotted a colony of these creatures along the entire route.


Boat Bluff Lighthouse at the southern tip of Sarah Island.

At one point, a huge sea lion surfaced in front of me and just watched as I approached, not showing any sign of fearing me. For a moment, I thought it could be a bear swimming with its big wet furry face out of the water. When I was only a few feet away from him, I put on the brakes with the paddle and he quickly dove out of sight. It was a sea lion.


Cutting across Tolmie Channel from the Swindle Island side to the Sarah Island side.

As I paddled north from Klemtu in Tolmie Channel, I hugged the shore of Swindle Island until reaching Split Head where I cut across to Sarah Island and paddled close to its western shore. At Sarah Point, I cut across the opening to Hiekish Narrows and continued up the mainland shoreline.
About half way up Sarah Island in Tolmie Channel, I ran into the roughest water of the trip so far. It looked like two currents were opposing each other at an otherwise normal looking spot. Steep two-foot waves were hitting me from the rear for about 100 yards.


Heading up Tolmie Channel.

Today was one of the coldest, wettest and most uncomfortable days yet on the trip. I had to stop and add an extra layer of insulation under my paddling jacket just to stay warm. My fingerless paddling gloves were replaced by articulated neoprene gloves that kept my fingers warm as long as I was moving. Snow pack was starting to become routinely visible on the nearby hillsides down to about 1,000 feet.


My campsite in Green Inlet looking toward Graham Reach.

Even though the wind and current were with me a good part of the day, I only managed 3 mph. I had hoped to go 29 miles today to Flat Point but by 3pm and with 24 miles behind me, I was ready to stop. When I reached Green Inlet, I could see a nice flat grassy spot a short distance from the main channel. This turned out to be a small islet, only connected to the shore at low tide. As soon as I landed I spotted the tell tale signs that bears had been feeding on the nearby vegetation. I decided to take a chance and stay, as I had seen no other possible place to camp anywhere else nearby. I felt that since it was somewhat isolated from the mainland any bear feeding in the area would be able to avoid me. The rain stopped just long enough for me to set up camp and take a few pictures before it started up again.


A couple of Orcas surface near my campsite in Green Inlet.

As I was cooking dinner, a pod of Orcas came into Green Inlet and I was able to get a few photos before they quickly disappeared. These were the first Orcas I had seen on the trip including the first leg of the trip last summer.
I noted in my logbook that this was the best campsite so far this year. The scenery was beautiful and the level grassy spot made staying here a pleasure.


I spotted the Alaska Ferry heading north up Graham Reach from my campsite in Green Inlet.

Day 13 - Sunday - June 8 - Green Inlet to Butedale

Heading up the Graham Reach section of Princess Royal Channel on a calm morning.

The rain came down hard overnight on my campsite in Green Inlet. I was using just my pyramid tent with a blue plastic tarp spread out for a floor and it worked great. All my gear stayed completely dry including my sleeping bag, which was inside a bivy sack. After waking up at 5am, I had packed up and was shoving off at 7:40am.


A waterfall and steep valley wall on Graham Reach.

So far, on the trip I had been paddling with a short sleeve nylon shirt under my wetsuit and a Gore Tex paddling jacket on top. Until yesterday, this combination had been working well but the wind, rain, and now colder air temperature conspired to make me uncomfortable. Today I added a fleece underwear top to my paddling clothes and this made a big difference. I was easily able to regulate the warmth by adjusting the neck zipper and the wrist closures on my paddling jacket. This fleece top became standard attire from here on through out the rest of the trip.


A following wind from the south helps me paddle up Graham Reach.

As I paddled up Princess Royal Channel staying close to the mainland shoreline I saw a pod of Orcas far across on the west side. These Orcas were most likely the same ones I spotted yesterday in Green Inlet. The wind was calm until around 10am when it started to pick up out of the southwest. This, along with a favorable current going my way, helped me to make good time. Today’s weather was characteristic for this area, heavy clouds and a light sporadic drizzle that continued from morning to night.


Princess Royal Channel was one of the prettiest sections of my Inside Passage trip.

I have heard other paddlers comment that they did not like paddling in the long straight channels that make up this area of the Inside Passage. For me it was some of the best paddling on the trip. When the clouds would lift, the scenery was spectacular with waterfalls and snowfields visible among the forested slopes. Wind was seldom a problem as it is sometimes in more exposed areas. The concentrated boat traffic in the long channels always assured something interesting to view and the comforting thought that you were not completely alone in this remote wilderness. The only negative thing I noticed about paddling in the channels was that when a BC ferry would pass, its wake could sometimes be very large. This required constant vigilance while paddling as it was necessary to face the kayak into oncoming wakes to maintain control. Campsites with additional clearance had to be found to compensate for big boat wakes hitting the shore in the middle of the night. This was the time when ferries frequently passed and tides were usually at their highest. It seemed that when the Alaska ferry would pass, its wake was never as big as a BC ferry. This was possibly due to the difference in hull shapes or the faster speed of the BC ferry.


I spotted this Brown Bear feeding on grass about three miles south of Butedale.

About a mile past Khutze Inlet, I crossed over to the west side of Princess Royal Channel slowly making my way toward today’s destination, Butedale. Just before reaching Butedale, I spotted a large male brown bear feeding in a grassy area next to a stream. My presence did not seem to affect him at all and he just kept feeding as if I were not even there.


My first view of Butedale and the falls.

After paddling 22 miles, I reached Butedale at 2:30pm. The dock here is very kayaker friendly and it is easy to get all your gear and boat completely out of the water and secured. The caretaker, Lou Simoneau, greeted me at the dock and set me up with a place to stay for the night. Accommodations here are perfect for a kayaker passing through. Lou has two bedrooms in his house set up for the weary traveler. Although they are not fancy by any measure the price is right, only $20. After taking a shower and then cooking dinner in Lou’s kitchen, he gave me a tour around the grounds.


The bunkhouse in Butedale.

One of the most interesting things Lou showed me was the water powered generator hooked up to a bunch of batteries that provides him with all the electricity he needs to live comfortably in this remote location. Lou walked me through some of the houses that workers lived in when Butedale was an operating fish cannery from 1918 to the mid 1950’s. At its peak, Butedale had 400 workers living onsite working in the salmon cannery and involved in fishing, logging and mining. The buildings are now falling into disrepair, and unless the site it rehabilitated in some way, it will not be long before this quaint, historical, Canadian outpost is just a memory.


One of the old cannery buildings in Butedale.

Lou is from Quebec and speaks with a French accent that is very similar to the Cajun French accent that I am so familiar with in south Louisiana. We stayed up late talking about life in rural BC and even watched a good video Lou had about the Kermodal bear. For anyone paddling the Inside Passage, a night at Butedale is a definite must.


My kayak on the dock at Butedale.

Day 14 - Monday June 9 - Butedale to Gribbell Island

Looking back on Butedale as I paddle off in Fraser Reach.

After a good nights sleep in Lou’s guest room in Butedale, I was up at 5am and getting ready to go. Lou was up already stoking his wood burning heater to get the morning chill out of the air. I had some coffee and conversation with Lou, then said good-bye and was launching into a light rain at 7am.


Butedale Falls.

This section of Princess Royal Channel is known as Fraser Reach and is one of the prettiest sections of the Inside Passage in Canada. Along it were dozens of big waterfalls, swollen with runoff from all the rain that had been falling the last few days.


A waterfall on Fraser Reach.

The current in Fraser Reach was supposed to flow northward on a falling tide. Today’s low tide for this area was at 12:30pm so my first 5 ½ hours of paddling should have been with a favorable tide. The current for some reason was flowing against me slowing my progress. At around 10am the wind started picking up and blowing right at me from the north creating some large waves. I was now actually glad the current was flowing in the same direction as the wind because if the two were opposed, the waves would have been much higher and steeper.


Paddling in the rain on Fraser Reach.

I reached Kincome Point where Fraser Reach and McKay Reach meet at 12 noon. There were now two to three foot waves coming at me from two directions. A 15-20 mph wind was blowing from the north producing waves that would hit the vertical rock face of the shoreline and refract back at me creating a washing machine effect. From 11:00am to 12:30pm, I could not stop paddling for even a second, or risk being overturned by this angry sea. There was no place to land so I had no choice but to keep paddling.


Entering Mc Kay Reach after rounding Kingcome Point.

As I rounded Kincome Point, I had decided to cut my day short and look for a campsite where I could rest and get out of the wind. I headed for a cove just west of the point hoping to find refuge. This spot had been noted as a potential campsite in a guidebook but I could see no suitable place to spend the night. It had recently been used as a logging staging area and the ground was all torn up by heavy equipment. Just as I was contemplating my situation, the wind started to die down and the waves disappeared. My luck had just changed.


Approaching Trivett Point on Princess Royal Island on the left with Point Cumming on Gribbell Island visable in the distance across Mc Kay Reach.

If the weather held out, my original campsite destination on Gribbell Island was now in reach. I made a beeline to Trivett Point halfway down the south side of McKay Reach reaching it at 2pm. By now the wind had unbelievably dropped to almost dead calm so I confidently headed diagonally across McKay Reach 4 miles to Point Cumming. This was the channel that both the BC and Alaska ferries use to traverse the Inside Passage so I kept a constant lookout for any distant ships approaching.


My campsite near Point Cumming on Gribbell Island.

As I rounded Point Cumming and entered Wright Sound the strong wind that I had been fighting earlier was back. Apparently, Gribbell Island had been acting as a windbreak for me as I paddled McKay Reach in complete calm. Luckily, my intended campsite was very close by and it ended up being the perfect spot to stop for the night.


Drying my gear in the sun on Gribbell Island.

This turned out to be another of my favorite campsites of the trip. The beach here is composed of smooth rounded pebbles that are comfortable to camp on and are easy on your kayak and other equipment. It is high enough to keep a tent above high tides and boat wakes from the many ships that passed while I was at this site. The view from here is also spectacular looking out across Wright Sound and Whale Channel. The afternoon was sunny and breezy so I took the opportunity to dry out all my wet gear and clothing at this beautiful spot. This campsite is 24 miles from Butedale and I reached it at 3:30pm after paddling 8 ½ hours.
I left a cairn here high up on a big boulder. Try to spot it if you use this site.


A cruise ship passes in Wright Sound.

Day 15 - Tuesday - June 10 - Gribbell Island to Hartley Bay

I normally do not remember my dreams but I had one overnight that was terrifying. Sleeping in a sleeping bag inside of a bivy sack is very confining so sometimes it can be hard to move your arms around. Last night the bag must have had my arms restricted and I dreamt that a bear was standing right on top of me and holding my arms down. I woke up petrified barely able to call out or draw a breath. Luckily it was just a dream and after I realized what had happened I was able to fall right back to sleep.


Looking across Wright Sound with Promise Island straight ahead, the entrance to Grenville Channel to the left, and the edge of Gribbell Island to the right.

I woke up today to the clearest skies in the past two weeks. Mountains off in the distance that I had not seen until now came into clear view. Where before only gray clouds were visible, now jagged snow capped peaks spanned the horizon.


Looking up Douglas Channel during my crossing from Gribbell Island to Promise Island.

After the strong winds I encountered yesterday starting around 10am, I wanted to get off to an early start while the air was still calm. I woke up at 5am and was launching by 6:30. Today’s ten mile long route included a four mile open water crossing of Douglas Channel and I did not want to be caught out in the middle by strong winds. I hugged the coast of Gribbell Island for the first two miles and then set off on a northwest course across Douglas Channel to Promise Island. The crossing went smoothly and by 8:30am, I was cruising safely along the eastern shore of Promise Island. After clearing Dawson Point on the northern tip, today’s destination, Hartley Bay came into view. By 10:30am, around the same time the winds had picked up yesterday, I was tying up to the dock in Hartley Bay.


Hartley Bay comes into view with the harbor entrance straight ahead.

After getting my boat out of the water, and onto a vacant spot on the dock, I changed into some dry clothes, stowed all my gear back in the boat, and went off to explore Hartley Bay. The dock here is first class with low edges that make it easy to get in and out of a kayak. A stone breakwater shields the harbor from wind and the wakes of passing ships.


The harbor at Hartley Bay.

One of the food packages that I had shipped from Port Hardy was waiting for me here so I headed over to the post office to pick it up. After asking around the local government building, I found out who handled the post office duties and got my package. This food drop had not been necessary as it turned out because I still had plenty of food from the box I sent to Shearwater. This was also the most expensive postage for a food drop box costing more than double what the other boxes had. The reason for this was it had to be shipped by airfreight and could not go as cargo on one of the ferries.


Some of the homes in Hartley Bay.

One of the women working in the government building who seemed to be knowledgeable of the town answered some questions for me. She informed me that there was no grocery store, restaurant, laundromat, public shower, public toilet, public water source, or lodging of any kind available in Hartley Bay. I was amazed.


Boardwalks are a clever alternative to streets in Hartley Bay.

I headed back to the dock with this new information and started thinking about what to do next. When I arrived back by my kayak, a big beautiful yacht had tied up right next to me. The couple on board struck up a conversation with me and we soon found out we lived only a few hundred miles apart. They were from Birmingham, Alabama and I am from New Orleans, Louisiana. We also discovered we shared a common interest in Zydeco dancing, which is a style of dance popular in south Louisiana. Before long it was like we were old friends and they had invited me to have dinner with them, and spend the night in the guest bedroom on their yacht. Well it would have been rude of me to decline, so I graciously accepted their invitation. The dinner and accommodations were the best on the whole trip and I was very grateful for their hospitality.
For the kayaker who was not as lucky as I was, camping on the dock would be the only option. Since there is no public toilet, I can‘t even recommend doing that. All I can say is if I was doing it again, I would not send food to Hartley Bay, and I would leave it off the itinerary altogether. This would save you a few miles of paddling off route, and you would not miss anything, as there is nothing really to see there.

Day 16 - Wednesday - June 11 - Hartley Bay to Mosley Point

Getting packed up on the dock in Hartley Bay.

Sleeping on my new friend’s yacht last night was wonderful. After an unbroken rest, I woke up at 5am and started getting my gear organized. My friends wanted to get off to an early start and by 6am they were launching and headed north on their way to Sitka, Alaska. By 6:50am, my kayak was loaded and I was heading out of Hartley Bay.


My new friends head out of Hartley Bay on their yacht.

The day could not have been more beautiful with clear blue skies and light winds in the morning. I made my way south through Stewart Narrows and into Coghlan Anchorage, the channel west of Promise Island. By 9am, I had reached Saintly Point and the southern entrance to Grenville Channel.


Looking out across Douglas Channel from the entrance to Hartley Bay.

According to the tide tables and current patterns in Grenville Channel, I should have been paddling against the current at this point. The high tide for this area was at 8am and was falling to a low tide at 2:15pm. According to current tables, a falling tide in southern Grenville Channel should produce an outward flowing and southerly current. As I paddled along the east shoreline, I kept my eyes on the kelp and the current was definitely flowing with me. I was not disappointed that I had a favorable current, because that always makes paddling easier, but I was concerned that I could not accurately predict when the currents would be favorable. Throughout the trip, it seemed that predicting which way a current would be flowing was only accurate about half the time, which was about as precise as a coin toss.


My first good look at Grenville Channel from around Sainty Point.

Usually when currents were going my way, I would stay away from shore and allow the current to help me. When paddling against a current I would stay close to shore and try to get into eddies that even if they did not help me along, at least would not hinder my forward progress.


Approaching the beach at Mosley Point.

I planned on paddling today until around 3pm and trying to reach Lowe Inlet. By noon, the wind had really picked up out of the south, and was making paddling unpleasant. In addition, because I had stayed up last night until 10:30pm I was very sleepy and could feel myself nodding off as I was paddling. I hadn’t thought it was possible to fall asleep while paddling but it was like the feeling you get when you have been driving for too long and know it’s time to stop. It was now time to stop.


Drying my gear in the sun on the beach at Mosley Point.

From far off in the distance, I could see a beach at Mosley Point that looked promising. When I reached it at 12:40pm after paddling 18 miles, I decided to make it my camp for the night. This was definitely a five star campsite with a beautiful view of Grenville Channel, easy launching and landing at any tide level on nice rounded pebbles, and level spots for a tent that would withstand even the highest tides and ship wakes. The one thing this beach did not have was protection from strong southerly winds which continued to build throughout the afternoon, but since it wasn’t raining it was just a minor inconvenience. There is no water source right at this campsite, but just a short distance away is Belowe Creek, where plenty of fresh water is available.


The BC Ferry creates a huge wake as it cruises up Grenville Channel.

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Day 17 - Thursday - June 12 - Bad weather day at Mosley Point

Sometime during the night, it started to rain, and there was a 10-15 mph wind coming up Grenville Channel out of the southeast. This was the hardest rain I had seen yet on this leg of the trip.
As I looked out at the wind and rain, and considered the fact that I had to paddle at least 20 miles to get to the next campsite, I decided that today would be a good day to take a break from paddling. Besides I reasoned, it would give my aching shoulders a chance to rest. I hated to miss a day of paddling, but I really did not want to spend 6 hours paddling in the rain and big waves.


Because it was raining and windy I didn't get any good photos today. I took this one from my tent at 10:45pm the night before.

I spent the day trying to stay dry under my tarp and out of the wind and rain. Eating was the main event of the day, as I had plenty of food, and I wanted to not only lighten my load, but also put back on some of the weight I had lost in the last two weeks. I used the time to select and mark on the charts possible campsites that were spaced about twenty miles apart that I could shoot for over the next three days. For this, I referenced photocopies I had made of the books, “Kayaking the Inside Passage” and “The Wild Coast 2”. I could depend on these two books to give me an idea of how many potential campsites were ahead of me along my route. After finishing reading all the printed material I had with me, I wished for a paperback to keep me occupied during all the hours of being stuck in the rain on this beach.
The wind and rain I was experiencing, was part of a weather pattern I had read about that is common for this area. As low pressure approaches the coast from the west, there will be one or two days of clear weather with winds increasing out of the south followed by a few days of rain with variable winds.
There was no recreational boat traffic today in Grenville Channel as the sailors and fishermen were probably riding out this storm in safe harbors in the area. I did see tug boats pulling barges and log rafts along with the BC and Alaska ferries, and cruise ships passing by.

Day 18 - Friday - June 13 - Mosley Point to Nabannah Bay

Heading up Grenville Channel on a calm morning.

I woke up this morning to find Grenville Channel calm as glass. The sky was cloudy but it was not raining and the strong winds of yesterday were gone. I launched at 7:30am and headed north up the channel hugging the eastern shoreline. The water was calm and the little wind there was, pushed me along from the south. The currents were odd today, sometimes they went north and sometimes south. It could only have been caused by eddies created by the shape of the shoreline. The low clouds made the scenery much less spectacular than it had been the last two days. All the mountainsides above about 1,000 feet were hidden from view by a foggy gray haze.


An island in Grenville Channel near the entrance to Lowe Inlet.

Today’s destination was Evening Point in Nabannah Bay near Klewnuggit Inlet along the east shore of Grenville Channel. After paddling 20 miles from Mosley Point, I arrived here at 1pm. This campsite is composed of small broken stones and patches of grass and has good views up Grenville Channel. I noted in my logbook that there were more bugs here than at any site I had stayed at so far on the trip. That may have been due to the calmness of the air and the expanses of grass along the shoreline in Nabannah Bay. The bugs were mostly gnats that did not bite much but would just fly around your face being bothersome.


A cloudy but calm day on Grenville Channel.

This evening I set up my tent to sleep in and my pyramid shelter to cook under. I ended up doing this whenever it looked like rain and I had enough space to set up both. By doing this if it was raining in the morning when I had to pack up, I could do it quicker and keep my gear dry while it was being packed.


My campsite at Nabannah Bay.

After dinner, while I was filling in my logbook and everything was quiet, I heard a wolf howling in the forest not far away. This was the first indication I had that wolves were near any of my campsites. Whenever I camped in an area where it was possible to encounter predatory animals, I always carried a can of bear spray on me.


Looking north up Grenville Channel at low tide from my campsite at Nabannah Bay.

After checking the mileage ahead of me to Prince Rupert, and the spacing of available campsites, I hope to arrive there in four days.

Day 19 - Saturday - June 14 - Nabannah Bay to Creek across from Northness Point

A beautiful day on Grenville Channel.

When I woke up this morning at 5am, the wind was blowing out of the north sending waves breaking onto the beach near my campsite. After eating and getting packed up, I was launching at 7:30am and paddling straight into the wind. I immediately crossed Grenville Channel from my campsite on the east side to the shoreline on the west side. The winds normally would strengthen as the day progressed and I did not want to have to cross over later when the winds almost certainly would be stronger.
The shoreline was passing by very slowly and I could tell by the streaming kelp leaves that not only was I paddling against the wind, but that the current was also against me. Although I was not going very fast, at least I was putting in a few miles and not just wasting a day sitting on the shore. My goal for this trip was to put in at least 20 miles a day, which would allow me to finish in about 45 days, so any day I did not paddle, was one day longer on the water.


My campsite across from Northness Point.

My planned destination for this day was a campsite 20 miles away in Stuart Anchorage at Bonwick Point. By 11am, the wind had become increasingly hard to paddle into so I started looking for an alternate spot to make camp. At 12:30pm and 15 miles from last night’s camp, I reached a spot along the west shoreline across from Northness Point, where a small stream entered and there was a grassy area suitable for camping. Although this area looked like the perfect place for bears to feed, I could find no sign of recent feeding activity. I did not have much of a choice anyway as campsites were scarce, and the wind had slowed me down to almost a standstill.


A cruise ship heads north up Grenville Channel.

The shore area for this campsite is composed of cobblestones covered with barnacles and seaweed so launching and landing here is troublesome. This site should only be considered as an emergency backup if a higher campsite cannot be found, as it may not be adequate for the highest tides of the month. Overnight the high tide was 19 feet and water came to within a few feet of my tent. If a large ship or ferry had passed at the peak of high tide, I probably would have been hit by its wake. The marshy creek entrance and grassy shoreline proved to be a perfect habitat for large numbers of gnats and mosquitoes, which helped to lower this sites ranking on my campsite suitability scale.


A self-portrait.

Day 20 - Sunday - June 15 - Creek across from Northness Point to Oona River

Heading north up Grenville Channel.

Amazingly, the wind calmed down overnight and I woke up to smooth seas, and a partly cloudy sky set in a field of blue. I launched at 7:20am and headed off toward the northern end of Grenville Channel and today’s destination, Oona River. Off in the distance I could see the shapes of Porcher, Kennedy, Marrack, and Gibson Islands come into view. By 11:25am, I was rounding Pitt Point and by 12:40pm, I had reached Rippon Point and the junction with Ogden Channel. The long narrow passages of Princess Royal and Grenville Channels were now behind me and I was out in open water again for the first time in ten days.


Kennedy, Marrack and Gibson Islands come into view at the end of Grenville Channel.

I started out across Ogden Channel from Rippon Point and headed 3 miles straight across to Oona River, arriving there at 1:20pm. I knew there were a couple of bed and breakfasts in Oona River from research I had done before the trip. I had copied down the phone numbers and had them along with my cell phone in my deck pack. When I pulled into the harbor the tide was high and I was able to paddle past the dock and up the Oona River itself for a half mile. I was hoping that I could spot one of the B&B’s from the water and maybe paddle up to it. That plan did not work so I paddled back to the dock with another idea. Luckily, my cell phone worked so I called one of the B&B’s, Lemon Acres Bed and Breakfast Retreat. Mike Lemon answered and informed me that he had room available and within a few minutes was down at the dock to pick me up and drive me to his place. I retrieved a few things I needed for the night and secured everything else inside the kayak that I had pulled up on the dock.


Looking north up Telegraph Passage.

Mike could not have been any nicer and what a neat house he has. There is a big den looking out across the Oona River valley and all the little homesteads in the area. He has a big vegetable garden and yard with chickens running around. The neighborhood also offered some great photo opportunities of quaint homes and old cars. The guest bedroom is beautifully decorated in an Early American style, and sleeping in the big soft queen sized bed after almost two weeks of camping was wonderful. After taking a shower and washing my clothes, I had dinner with Mike and then we sat up talking and drinking coffee until 9pm. If you plan on stopping in Oona River for the night, Mike Lemon can be reached at 250-628-6808.


Lemon Acres B&B in Oona River.

Day 21 - Monday - June 16 - Oona River to Kitson Island

Mike Lemon making breakfast.

After a great night sleep at the Lemon’s B&B, Mike made me a delicious breakfast using eggs laid yesterday by his chickens. Being a city boy all my life, I do not think I have ever had eggs that fresh before. Mike drove me down to the dock and after getting the kayak loaded and saying goodbye I was heading out of Oona River at 7:10am. The tide was out and the water around the dock was so shallow that only a kayak could have gotten in or out of the harbor. I even bottomed out a couple of times before reaching open water.


Heading out of Oona River with the entrance to Grenville Channel visable off in the distance.

I headed north up the coast of Porcher Island and into aptly named Kelp Passage to the west of Lewis and Elliot Islands. The weather today was luckily very calm, as I had to make a 7-mile open water crossing of Malacca and Marcus Passages. At 9:45am, I left the protection of Kelp Passage and headed toward the Genn Islands, which at 3½ miles out are about halfway across the channel.


Halfway across Chatham Sound and passing through the Genn Islands with Kitson Island visable in the distance through the opening.

I reached Genn Island at 10:40am and headed straight across without stopping. The winds remained calm and by 11:45am, I was passing the west tip of Smith Island. My destination for this evening, Kitson Island, was now only a short distance away and by 12:20pm, I was pulling up on its sandy shore.


A commercial fishing boat crosses my path in Chatham Sound.

Kitson Island is a great place to camp and should be on any Inside Passage paddler’s itinerary. The sandy beach is easy to land on at any tide level and there are beautiful, level campsites up in the trees and out of reach of even the highest tides. Trails lead around the island connecting with all the beaches and giving the stiff paddler the opportunity to get some leg exercise. Two eagles and a family of seals kept me company all afternoon while I was eating dinner and filling in my logbook.


Approaching the beach on Kitson Island.

I got my first experience with the Prince Rupert phone system while on Kitson Island. Apparently, cell phones do not work for anybody in Prince Rupert unless they are connected to the local telephone system. When I tried to use my cell phone, I got an automated phone message telling me that my phone would not work here. I wondered why if my signal was strong enough to go through and make a connection it could not just be connected to the cell phone grid as it is everywhere else. When I was in Oona River on remote Porcher Island just a few hours before, I was able not only to make contact with Mike Lemon but also to call my family back home. If you go to Prince Rupert, notice all the pay phones everywhere, like the ten in a row that you see down by the cruise ship terminal. The reason for this is that no cell phone will work here and people are forced to use the local phone company.


The campsite on Kitson Island is up in the trees above the highest tides.

Day 22 - Tuesday - June 17 - Kitson Island to Prince Rupert

Looking south across Chatham Sound from Kitson Island with my kayak ready to launch at the waters edge.

Today’s paddle into Prince Rupert would only be 12 miles in protected waters, and since it was drizzling outside, I took the opportunity to sleep a little later than normal. After eating breakfast and getting everything packed up while under the pyramid shelter, I launched from my Kitson Island campsite at 9am. The tide was very low, and I had to carry the boat and gear a long way to the waters edge, but at least the beach was packed sand and not slippery rocks.


A bouy marks the channel into Prince Rupert.

I started heading east around Kitson Island and ran into water so shallow that even my kayak was bottoming out. After changing course to the west, I found a deeper channel out into Chatham Sound and made my way north to Prince Rupert. The waterway leading into Prince Rupert harbor is lined with industrial facilities for loading shipping containers, grain, and coal. Railroad tracks follow the shoreline closely the whole way into town.


Approaching the bulk loading dock in Prince Rupert.

As soon as I reached the main docks in town at 12 noon, I spotted a small floating dock with a rack full of kayaks on it. I pulled up and inquired as to the possibility of storing my kayak here for a couple of nights while I was in town. I was directed to contact Joe at the phone number that appeared on a sign on the kayak rack. Since cell phones do not work in Prince Rupert, I had to get to a pay phone. I tied up the kayak, got into some dry clothes, and set off to find lodging and call Joe. My pre-trip research had provided me with a list of available lodging options and a street map of Prince Rupert. I made my way to the Pioneer Hostel and got a room for the next two nights. Now that I knew where I was going to be staying, I called Joe to get permission to store my boat on his dock. I reached Joe Paolinelli the owner of Skeena Kayaking and he kindly gave me the authorization I was seeking. We made plans to meet for dinner the next night and I was set to go. After retrieving a few things from my kayak and putting it on the rack where Joe had instructed me, I headed back to the hostel, took a shower, and set off to get something to eat and explore the town.

The container dock in Prince Rupert.

The map I used to find my way around Prince Rupert and locate lodging was one of the most useful things I had on my trip. It is published by Great Pacific Recreation & Travel Maps and is titled “SE Alaska’s Inside Passage recreation finder map and guide“. Besides having a very detailed overview of the Alaska section of the Inside Passage, it also has a smaller view of the Canadian section. On the opposite side are detailed maps of every town along the route with the name, phone number and map location of lodging, attractions, marinas, hospitals, post offices and dozens of other facilities that could come in handy for a kayaker passing through. I was using the second edition of this map and unfortunately, some of the B&B’s that it has listed have closed so you might want to call to verify what facilities are available before leaving home.
I also want to note that although Joe at Skeena Kayaking was nice enough to let me use his facility he and other kayaking business owners should not be expected to do this for every paddler passing through. A more reliable alternative I found was to paddle up to the harbormasters office and get a place assigned for your boat for however long you plan to be in port. I did this in Shearwater, Petersburg, and Juneau and it worked just fine. In every case, I was assigned a location right next to the gangway that was both safe and convenient.

Day 23 - Wednesday - June 18 - Layover in Prince Rupert

I enjoyed sleeping late for the first time since June 2 while in Shearwater. The Pioneer Hostel, besides having a group dormitory type room, also has some private rooms that they rent for a very reasonable $50 a night. Their bathrooms are very clean, there is a nice den area with a TV so you can catch up on the news, and you can use their pay phone while washing your clothes in their laundry. From here, it is about a 10-minute walk to the marina and it is centrally located to the rest of Prince Rupert.


The Pioneer Hostel in Prince Rupert.

I went looking for a place to have breakfast and found a great little coffee shop named Cowpuccino’s in the Cow Bay District. Yesterday there were no cruise ships in town and I pretty much had the place to myself. Today there were two ships in port and the coffee shop along with everything else in town was packed with tourists.
After dropping off the SD cards from my digital cameras to be copied onto CD’s at the local camera store, I went over to the post office to pick up the box of food I had shipped to myself from Port Hardy. I bought a pre-paid phone card at the local supermarket so I could use the Prince Rupert phone system to call home. After storing my food cache and new supplies in the kayak, I had a great lunch at a little restaurant called La Cucina. Later I picked up the CD’s from the photo shop and mailed them home so I would have a second set of photos in a safe place in case something happened to the SD cards that I kept with me.


The tourist excursion dock in Prince Rupert where I stored my kayak for two nights.

Joe Paolinelli from Skeena Kayaking picked me up at the Pioneer Hostel this evening and we had dinner at a nice Italian restaurant that overlooked the waterfront. After dinner, we took a ride out to Kloyia Bay where Joe does his kayak tours, mostly with tourists from the cruise ships. This one day kayak tour is a good introduction to kayaking in a safe and beautiful location.
This evening was spent re-packing my cleaned clothes and all the gear I had brought up to my room. I called home for what turned out to be the last time until reaching Ketchikan Alaska ten days later.

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Day 24 - Thursday - June 19 - Prince Rupert to North of Ryan Point

Second Leg - Days 24-34 - Prince Rupert to Ketchikan



The main natural and man made features encountered along this stretch of the route include: The city of Prince Rupert, Chatham Sound, Portland Inlet, the US / Canadian Border, Dixon Entrance, Cape Fox, Revillagigedo Channel, Behm Canal, and the city of Ketchikan.


My room at the Pioneer Hostel.

I woke up this morning at 5am, and carried my gear from the Pioneer Hostel, through the empty streets of Prince Rupert, down to my kayak on the dock. The sky was mostly blue with some high wispy clouds, and the wind was very light. After getting the boat packed up, I was off at 6:40am. It is advisable to leave Prince Rupert on a falling tide, and since low tide this morning was at 9am, I would have 2 hours and 20 minutes of current going my way.


Heading through Venn Passage toward Metlakatla.

My charts for the trip were printed in the 1:100,000 scale and for this area of Canada, they looked like poorly drawn cartoons, with very little pertinent information shown on them. For today’s route they provided only basic directions, and I was on my own making my way through Venn Passage which is obstructed with submerged rocks and thick kelp beds. This passage heading west out of the harbor is very shallow with only a narrow channel marked by buoys. I carefully made my way through, staying clear of boat traffic and shallow spots. Before long, I had passed Metlakatla and was entering Duncan Bay.


Thick beds of Kelp, and thousands of submerged, barnacle encrusted boulders, made paddling this section of the coast extremely troublesome.

Once I got out of the protected waters of Venn Passage, I was exposed to the wind coming off Chatham Sound from the northwest and the current was now directly opposed to my direction of travel. The thick beds of kelp and shallow boulder strewn sea bottom all seemed to conspire in making my progress as difficult as possible. By 11:20am, I had enough of fighting the elements and decided to stop for the day on a beautiful beach about two miles north of Ryan Point. I hated to stop so early in the day after traveling only 11 miles but the wind had been increasing steadily and this was the first good place to camp I had seen today. This beach turned out to be a great place to camp with clear views of Dundas, Dunira, and Melville Islands out across Chatham Sound.


My campsite north of Ryan Point near Slippery Rock and it's flashing light.

Day 25 - Friday - June 20 - North of Ryan Point to Flewin Point

Moonset on a calm morning from my campsite north of Ryan Point.

I tried doing something different this morning that I began calling my “fast start”. Instead of setting up the stove and making coffee and oatmeal, I just packed a few things in my deck bag like muffins, cliff bars, and nuts that I could eat while I was paddling. This saved me about a half hour every morning, and I did not miss the hot food and drink at all. In addition, instead of getting dressed in dry shore clothes and then changing into paddling clothes later, I just put on my paddling clothes as soon as I got up. This worked particularly well on rainy mornings, as I would have my paddling clothes on when taking down the wet tent and tarp. My shore clothes stayed dry and were more comfortable when I changed into them in the evening.


Heading up the BC coast toward Big Bay.

Launch time today was at 6:30am and I continued paddling north through conditions similar to what I experienced yesterday. The water is very shallow along this coastline and there are many submerged rocks just below the surface. The kelp is thick in many places and sometimes requires a broad detour to avoid becoming stuck in its expansive mats. I crossed Big Bay and paddled past Burnt Cliff and Finlayson Islands.


Lax Kw'alaams at Port Simpson.

As I passed the little settlement of Lax Kw’alaams, and started across the bay of Port Simpson, I could see my destination for the evening come into view near Flewin Point. It was now 12:40pm and I had paddled 18 miles.


Approaching the beach at Flewin Point.

Even though it was still early, I wanted to stop here because after this point, lay the open waters of Portland Inlet. Whenever I had a big open water crossing to make, I always tried to camp nearby so it could be crossed early in the morning. This way I could be across before the winds had a chance to build as the air over the land heats up and creates an onshore breeze.


My campsite at Flewin Point.

The campsite near Flewin Point on the Tsimpsean Peninsula is a nice cobble stone and sand beach that has a tent site up in the trees, so it is usable at even the highest tides of the month. There is even a cascading stream right next to the tent site. Unfortunately, this beach had more trash on it than all the other beaches I had camped on combined. This may have been due to its close proximity to the settlement of Lax Kw’alaams right across the bay.


Wolf prints in the sand.

This evening as I was sitting on the beach in my Crazy Creek chair, filling in my trip log, and having a cup of coffee, something very interesting happened. I heard some noise coming from the trees behind me and as I turned to look, I saw a dear come running out of the woods and straight into the water. The deer then started bounding through the water down the beach staying about 30 feet offshore until it was out of sight. I immediately concluded that no deer would do that unless it was being chased by something. I got out my camera and pepper spray, and waited to see what came next. After about ten minutes with no activity, I decided I must have been wrong about something chasing the deer so I put the camera and spray away and went back to filling in my logbook. As soon as I sat back down a big wolf came running out of the woods straight up to within 20 feet of me. The second he saw me, he spun around and headed right back into the woods where he had come from, possibly more scared of me than I was of him. I did not see the wolf again but I did get some good photos of the footprints he left behind in the sand.

Day 26 - Saturday - June 21 - Flewin Point to Kanagunut Island

Today when my alarm went off at 5am, it was raining and the wind was blowing too hard to paddle. I stayed in the sack until 9am then got up and started getting organized, still not sure if the wind would ease up enough to let me launch. It started to calm down after a while and I eventually launched at 11:15am.


Looking across Portland Inlet with Parkin Island dead ahead.

I headed out around Flewin Point and passed through the tiny Parkin Islands then started the 7-mile paddle across the mouth of Portland Inlet. Just as I cleared Parkin Island at 11:50am, a Humpback Whale surfaced not far away headed up the inlet.


The wave motion made it hard to get a level shot as I looked up Portland Inlet half way into my seven mile crossing.

Although the wind had calmed, Portland Inlet was still choppy from waves generated earlier in the day. There were also some small sea swells making their way from Dixon Entrance but generally, the conditions were good. The crossing was uneventful, which is just the way I like 7-mile crossings to be, and by 2:00pm I was pulling alongside Boston Island.


Wales Island, Tongass Passage and the Alaskan border are straight ahead as I make my way across Portland Inlet.

After reaching Boston Island, I turned the boat around to have a good look at what I had just crossed. There behind me, not a quarter of a mile away, was a pod of Orcas, which included at least one huge male with his black dorsal fin clearly visible against the gray water and cloudy sky. I have paddled close to Orcas before, even having them swim under my kayak a couple of times, and I am not particularly scared of them, but being by myself out in the middle of a 7 mile crossing was bad enough without having to deal with a pod of Orcas. I am glad I did not see them until I was close to shore where they presented nothing more than a good photo opportunity.


Entering the mouth of Tongass Passage and the Boston and Proctor Islands.

I paddled between the Boston Islands and Wales Island and then through the Proctor Islands finally crossing Tongass Passage. After rounding the southern tip of Sitklan Island, I headed up Lincoln Channel until I spotted a likely campsite in a small bay just north of Garnet Point on Kanagunut Island. I landed there at 4:45pm after paddling 16 miles.


The Proctor Islands.

This turned out to be a very pretty campsite with beautiful views out across Portland Inlet and Dixon Entrance. The beach here is mixed sand, gravel, and shells with patches of grass among a large field of boulders. While I was setting up camp, a Humpback Whale came into the bay and started slowly cruising along the shoreline, apparently feeding as it went. I listened to its breathing for almost an hour before it disappeared. As nice as this campsite was, it was also very buggy, possibly because of the lack of wind this evening.


Approaching a likely campsite on Kanagunut Island.

Another interesting thing about this campsite was that I was actually able to connect with the cell phone service in Prince Rupert. The only problem was that all I got was a voice recording that told me I had to be connected to the “City West” phone service to get through. I could hardly believe it.


My campsite on Kanagunut Island.

Today was the longest day of the year and there was light enough to see clearly until late in the evening. A milestone of sorts passed today when I crossed over the border back into the US. I had now paddled the entire length of the coast of British Columbia and was anxious to tackle the coast of southeast Alaska.


Looking back across Portland Inlet towards Port Simpson from my campsite on Kanagunut Island at 10:20pm.

Day 27 - Sunday - June 22 - Kanagunut Island to Cape Fox

Launching this morning was exceedingly troublesome. The tide was out and still falling and I had to carry my boat and gear over a field of slippery seaweed covered cobblestones for about 80 paces. It was necessary to keep moving the kayak further out into the water as I loaded it, to compensate for the tide continuing to recede. If that was not bad enough, gnats and mosquitoes were constantly buzzing around my face trying to steal a meal from any exposed flesh.


Looking across Nakat Bay toward Cape Fox and Fox Island.

I finally launched at 7:50am and with a light wind at my back headed up Lincoln Channel toward Nakat Bay. Along the channel I saw dozens of commercial fishing boats tied up to docks and small floating camps. They were no doubt staying out of the wind and waiting for conditions to improve offshore. As I rounded the north end of Kanagunut Island a strong wind was blowing out of the west straight at me.


Tongass Island in Nakat Bay.

I passed the southwest corner of Tongass Island at 9:15am and, after taking a big drink of water, started across the wind whipped waters of Nakat Bay. Across the bay I could see the navigation marker showing on my chart as Boat Rock, 2 ½ miles away. I kept the bow of my boat pointed at it and after 45 minutes of hard paddling was passing it heading southwest toward Cape Fox. Now that I was close to shore, the wind was not a problem and I could take my time and enjoy the view of distant islands and mountain peaks.


Starfish and Sea Anemones on the rocks in Nakat Bay.


Cape Fox was not far off and by 11am, after paddling only 9 miles, I was pulling my kayak up onto its protected sandy beach. Fox Island lies just offshore and it, along with a few other small rocky outcrops, forms a sort of protected harbor. When I arrived here, three small commercial fishing boats were anchored in its calm shallow water. This spot is particularly pretty with an emerald green bottom showing through its crystal clear waters.


Fox Island lies just offshore from Cape Fox.

If the winds had been calm, I would have bypassed this spot altogether and headed another 15 miles up the coast to Foggy Bay. The entire shoreline north of Cape Fox is exposed to Dixon Entrance and any conditions the Pacific Ocean wants to send its way. Wind and sea swells that approach this shallow, reef-lined coast can create dangerous conditions for any paddler attempting to navigate its waters. The fishing boats anchored here were an indication to me that even they thought it was a good idea to stay off the water the rest of this afternoon.


The beach at Cape Fox.

The beach here is very nice consisting of shallow sloping sand interspersed with solid rock outcrops. A flat area at the top of the beach provides tent sites that are above even the highest monthly tides. Although there is no flowing stream here, I was able to filter enough water to top off my supply by using the small puddles created by indentations in the solid rock outcrops above the high tide line.


My kayak high-up on the beach at Cape Fox.

I did not know it at the time but the next three nights would be spent here waiting for the winds to die down and the weather to clear.

Day 28 - Monday - June 23 - Cape Fox bad weather layover day.

The Alaska Ferry passing Cape Fox on a windy day.

The National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) had issued a small craft advisory for today, so at 5am it was not surprising to find a hard rain hitting my tent and 15 to 20 mph winds blowing across the infamous Dixon Entrance. As the morning wore on, I stayed prepared to leave quickly if the weather conditions improved enough to get on the water. By afternoon, with the conditions unchanged, it was clear that there would be no paddling today.
The pyramid tent was invaluable during my stay at Cape Fox. It provided shelter from rain and wind and I could sit back, cook meals, and eat while looking out across the endless expanse of the Pacific Ocean. Having a comfortable place to relax turned out to be very important whenever I was storm bound on a beach like this.
I tried to make the most out of this unscheduled day off so out came all the reference material I was carrying. First, I figured out the high and low tides for the following day, using the “Tide Tool” program on my Palm Pilot, and marked them directly on the chart with a Sharpie marker. I then marked my charts with potential campsites along the route and their distance from my present position. The photocopied pages of guidebooks were re-read looking for any bit of information that may be helpful for the next few days of paddling. The “SE Alaska’s Inside Passage” map was probably the most interesting and informative single piece of reading material with me on the trip. It gave me a good overview map of the entire Inside Passage that I would update daily with campsite and route information.
After reading everything with me twice, it became apparent that the decision not to bring a small paperback was a mistake. Weight and space were the major determining factors but I also did not think there would be any time to sit around reading. After experiencing reading withdrawal at Cape Fox, a book was added to my list of supplies to pick up in Ketchikan.

Day 29 - Tuesday - June 24 - Cape Fox bad weather layover day.

Stormy weather at Dixon Entrance.

Conditions this morning were even worse than they were yesterday. The wind was blowing the tent around making it flap noisily, and the rain was still coming down hard. Sleeping last night was difficult with daylight till 11pm and the sound of waves crashing against the rocks combining to keep me awake.
Paddling today was out of the question. The day was spent hunkered down in the pyramid tent trying to stay dry and amused. I listened to the weather reports from NOAA on my VHF radio whenever they were updated. A handy trick I discovered was to take my digital voice recorder, place it in front of the VHF radio, and record the broadcast. This way I could stop the report every few seconds and make notes of what had just been said so it could be referenced later. Anyone who has ever listened to these broadcasts knows that the information is given so fast it can sometimes be difficult to comprehend accurately.
The VHF radio also revealed to me that commercial fishermen in the area were at anchor and not able to get out on the water to fish. By setting my radio to “scan”, I could find channels that were being used by the fishermen to talk with each other about their weather concerns. Overhearing their conversations about the local weather gave me some practical insights that were not apparent from the government radio forecasts.
I am hoping that conditions tomorrow will allow me to get off this beach and on with my journey.

Day 30 - Wednesday - June 25 - Cape Fox to North Cape Fox

I don't have any photos taken from my boat while paddling today because I couldn't take my hands off the paddle for even a second.

A cruise ship passes far off shore.

Today’s weather forecast indicated wind out of the south at 10-15 knots. The same was forecast through this Sunday when the winds were supposed to be even higher. If I did not try paddling today, conditions would only get worse over the next few days.
After 2 ½ days of sitting on the beach and making no headway, it was time to see if I could handle the wind and waves of Dixon Entrance. I packed up the kayak and was launching from Cape Fox at 6:45am. After about 15 minutes, it was obvious to me that this was more than I could safely handle alone. There were big 6-foot swells coming in and breaking over submerged rocks all along the coast out in front of me. I would have to get out of this soon, or before long, one of these big waves would knock me over and I would be in the water getting washed over a reef. I briefly turned the boat around to see how far I had gone already and it was immediately apparent that going back was not an option. The wind and waves were so big there would be no possibility of making headway against them.


My campsite north of Cape Fox.

This coastline is very exposed and according to everything written about it, there are few if any places to camp along its length. Since my options were limited, there was no choice but to try and find a place to land out of the surf, and with a beach high enough to keep me above the highest tides. The seas were so confused that it was necessary to pay attention constantly to stay upright.


Stormy weather at Dixon Entrance.

After fighting the waves for an hour and traveling just two miles, a beach came into view that looked promising. The beach consisted of football-sized cobblestones so I did not want to run my boat up on it and risk damaging the hull. Just as I was stepping out of the boat a few feet offshore in about a foot of water, a wave came up from behind and lifted it two feet in the air causing me to loose my balance and go in. It was not a problem though, as I was already soaking wet and was happy to be ashore in one piece. I was actually laughing, just glad to be alive.


Another view of my campsite.

This campsite turned out to be not bad at all, although it wasn‘t as nice as the beach at Cape Fox. If launching or landing a kayak at high tide, it would be off a crushed shell beach, low tides would be in cobblestones. The top end near the trees would be above the highest tides and it is sheltered from all but a north wind.
Another kayaker was probably here a day or two before me as I found a campfire remnant and other indications of a human’s presence. A dump pile from some animal, consisting of mostly half-digested plant material, made me wonder what else besides a kayaker had recently been on this beach.
It was now obvious to me that arriving in Ketchikan on schedule would be impossible. I wanted to call home so my family would not be worried and contact the Coast Guard to come looking for me. From talking to a commercial fisherman on the VHF radio, I found out there was no marine operator for this area. My cell phone had no signal so that was not an option. I decided to call the Coast Guard on channel 16, report my location and situation, and see if they could relay a message to my home. On my very first try, the Canadian Coast Guard in Prince Rupert answered my call and requested I switch over to channel 83a. After giving them my coordinates and assuring them I was safe and had enough food and water, they proceeded to contact my family with the “All OK” message. The Canadian Coast Guard handled everything very efficiently and professionally and within about five minutes, I could rest at ease knowing there would not be a search party out looking for me.

TO CONTINUE READING ABOUT MY TRIP, CLICK ON THE WORDS "OLDER POSTS" BELOW AND YOU WILL BE BROUGHT TO THE NEXT PAGE.

Day 31 - Thursday - June 26 - North Cape Fox to an island off Kah Shakes Point

Approaching Tree Point Lighthouse as I paddle up the coast at Dixon Entrance.


The NOAA was apparently wrong about the weather for today. At 5am, the wind was light and the waves were small and from the southwest. After 3 ½ days of sitting around and waiting for the weather to clear I could not wait to get back on the water and put some miles behind me. By 6:30am I had launched and was heading north up the coast. Conditions were favorable all day with even the current helping me along. I passed plenty of beaches that looked suitable for camping today. Partially submerged rocks however block most of them. These would be dangerous to try to pass through with any sizeable wave activity.


Entering Foggy Bay.

I made good time, reaching Foggy Bay at 9:50am. After paddling into the bay, I navigated through a maze of small islands, many surrounded by nice sand beaches, emerging at Kirk Point at 11:30am. Hundreds of small rocky outcrops in the bay provided perches for countless water birds that would scurry off as my boat approached.


Rounding Kirk Point at the north end of Foggy Bay.

My destination for today was a beach at Kah Shakes Point that would put me in a good position to make the two-mile crossing of Boca De Quadra Inlet first thing in the morning. At 1:10pm, after paddling 24 miles, I reached a small island just offshore from Kah Shakes Point that looked like a great spot to camp. A large sand beach on its eastern side is out of the wind, smooth flat rocks provide a clean area to cook, and there are plenty of level campsites up in the trees. Others before me obviously recognized these same amenities, as there was evidence of heavy use by the native people.


Bark torn from Cedar Trees.

Many of the Cedar trees on the island had long strips of bark pulled off, which is something the indigenous people do to gather raw material for their native crafts.


My island campsite off Kah Shakes Point.

The wind had died down and by 4pm, it was dead calm. Flocks of birds in the nearby waters were feeding and calling to each other around the island all afternoon. A lone seal surfaced just offshore every few minutes to keep an eye on this strange new intruder in its midst. Around 5pm, I tried calling home on the cell phone and was amazed that the call actually went through. I was still 40 miles from Ketchikan and yet had a perfectly clear connection.


The sand beach at my island campsite off Kah Shakes Point.

Day 32 - Friday - June 27 - An island off Kah Shakes Point to Cone Point

Heading across Boca De Quadra.

Launching today was easy, off the gently sloping sand beach of my island campsite near Kah Shakes Point. By 6:45am, my kayak was in the water and I headed across the 2-mile opening of Boca De Quadra Inlet.


Looking up Boca De Quadra as I cross.

I continued up the coast reaching a small bay just south of Point Sykes at 10am. Until now, the wind had been very calm and I felt confident about attempting the 4½-mile crossing of Behm Channel. About 1/3 of the way across a strong wind started hitting me out of the northeast coming straight out of Behm Channel. I stayed my course, with Point Alava in sight, and forged my way through the waves. About ½ mile before reaching the point, a boat pulled up nearby with two kayaks tied to a rack and three women on board. The boat was from Southeast Sea Kayaks in Ketchikan and was shuttling two kayakers up Behm Canal. We talked for a couple of minutes about each other’s trips and then went our separate ways. A Coast Guard boat was drifting nearby and I believe the crew was checking me out to see if I was having any trouble. I gave them an exaggerated wave to let them know everything was OK.


Contemplating the crossing of Behm Canal.

During this crossing of Behm Canal, I was amazed at the large number of floatplanes that were flying overhead coming out of Ketchikan. There was at least one every minute going up or down the channel, and that went on for almost 2 hours. One of them actually made a circle around me as if it were checking me out. I could just imagine what the cruise ship tourists onboard were saying about this lone kayaker out in the middle of this big expanse of water.


My kayak pulled up on the drift logs.

By 11:10am, I had made it across to Point Alava and was continuing up the coast past Lucky Cove. At 1:15pm, after paddling 22 miles, I reached a well-used campsite in a cove just south of Cone Point. This site has a low-lying beach that connects a small island to the mainland except during high tide when the beach is submerged. It had been drizzling for a while, but just as I landed; it really started coming down hard. After unloading the boat and carrying everything high up above the tide line, I set up the pyramid tent and started getting myself organized. This was where everything I knew about camping in the rain was put to the test. I put all my food and clothes bags into the pyramid and proceeded to get into dry clothes and start cooking dinner. By 3:15pm I was sitting comfortably dry in my Crazy Creek chair and eating dinner while the rain poured down outside.


My campsite near Cone Point.

My usual mode of operation every afternoon was to spend a few minutes exploring around my campsite looking for interesting things to photograph. This was the first site on the trip that the rain was coming down so hard that I could not get out and get some photos before sunset. By morning, the rain had let up enough to allow me to snap a few photos and make a record of the site.


Looking out on Revillagigedo Channel from my campsite near Cone Point.

Day 33 - Saturday - June 28 - Cone Point to Ketchikan

A look back at last nights campsite as I paddle off to Ketchikan.

It rained most of the night, but by morning, the sky was clear with a few scattered clouds. My paddling clothes were all soaking wet, and I had to put them on with the air temperature at a chilly 55 degrees. By 7:15am, I had the kayak all packed and was launching towards today’s destination, Ketchikan, Alaska. It had been 10 hard days since I left Prince Rupert and I was anxious for a shower and some restaurant meals.


Clear skies and calm seas in Revillagigedo Channel.

The scenery that had been hidden from my view for the last few days because of clouds was now clearly visible. What had before been a solid mass of gray was now a beautiful mountain range with snow capped peaks sparkling in the brilliant sunshine. I rounded Cone Point, crossed Thorne Arm, and headed up Revillagigedo Channel. As Mountain Point came into view, I started seeing the suburbs of Ketchikan taking shape along the shoreline ahead of me. The wide channel now started to be squeezed tighter finally becoming Tongass Narrows by Pennock Island.


Ketchikan comes into view.

I paddled into the Ketchikan waterfront and past two huge cruise ships tied up to the dock. The Coast Guard does not like boats coming close to the cruise ships and wants you to stay 500 feet away. They are not concerned that you might be injured as you may suppose, what they are worried about is that you might be a terrorist intent on doing harm to the ship.
Before reaching the Harbormasters office, I came across a rack full of kayaks on one of the docks so I pulled over to investigate. This turned out to be the headquarters of Southeast Sea Kayaks where I met the manager, Chelsea, right as I pulled up. She graciously checked with the owner and got permission for me to store my kayak on their rack for a couple of nights. It seemed that my good fortune was returning. After the 4-day fiasco at Cape Fox, things were starting to look up.
Let me make an important point here. Do not go to Ketchikan expecting Southeast Sea Kayaks to let you store your kayak on their dock. That is not their business. I was just lucky to be in the right place at the right time. A surer alternative is to arrange a mooring spot in the harbor at the Harbormasters office. That is why they are there.
I tried contacting some B&B’s that were listed on my Inside Passage recreation map and found that all within walking distance had closed. I called the local American Youth Hostel to see if they had any space. No one answered the phone so I took a walk over and was able to book a place to stay for the next two nights with the very nice young couple who were running it for the summer. After taking a shower and changing into some clean “city clothes”, I headed out looking for some lunch. A place called “Burger Queen” right by the tunnel downtown filled the bill with a great burger and fries. I went back to the boat to get all my dirty clothes and then headed off to a nearby laundromat. While my clothes were being cleaned, I called home with the news of my safe arrival in Ketchikan. I took the bus back to the hostel, stashed my clean clothes, and then went off for a walk around town.


Creek Street in Ketchikan.

After seeing some of the sights and having dinner, I got a big cup of coffee and headed back to the hostel. I ended up spending a long time talking with a young woman named Beth from Perth, Australia who was staying a few days in Ketchikan before continuing her three-month summer tour of Alaska, Canada, and the US. This was the second hostel I had stayed at on the trip and it provided everything needed for a comfortable stay while in Ketchikan. It also turned out to be a great way to meet other adventurous people with many of the same interests.

Day 34 - Sunday - June 29 - Layover day in Ketchikan

Homes in Ketchikan built on a hillside.


I spent this day in Ketchikan shopping for supplies, being a tourist, and attempting to try out every restaurant in town. I had lost about 15 pounds by this point in the trip and did not want to loose any more, so anything edible was fair game. The bus line in Ketchikan, which runs along the main road through town, will get you almost anywhere you want to go for $1.00. There are supermarkets, hardware stores, clothes stores, a post office, and dozens of restaurants to choose from, all along the main road. For more information about things to do while in Ketchikan and other ports along the route, get the book, “Adventure Guide - Inside Passage & Coastal Alaska” for lots of good ideas.


My kayak on the Southeast Sea Kayaks dock in Ketchikan.

Day 35 - Monday - June 30 - Ketchikan to Point Higgins

Second Leg - Days 35-44 - Ketchikan to Petersburg



The main natural and man made features encountered along this stretch of the route include:
The city of Ketchikan, Behm Canal, Clarence Strait, Meyers Chuck, Ernest Sound, Blake Channel, Eastern Passage, the town of Wrangell, Dry Strait, Frederick Sound, and the town of Petersburg.

I took the bus to the post office first thing in the morning to pick up my box of food and send a few things home that I was not using. After loading up my boat back at Southeast Sea Kayaks I thanked the staff there for being so nice to me and was launching at 10:45am.


Heading out of Ketchikan through Tongass Narrows.

The wind was blowing around 15mph out of the northwest down Tongass Narrows, and right into my face. On top of that, the current was against me, so the only way I could make any headway was to stay very close to the northeast shoreline and out of the wind and current as much as possible. Up to Ward Cove, Tongass Narrows is lined with mostly industrial type businesses involved in the fishing or marine industries. After a month of paddling along wilderness shorelines, the change to commercial buildings was a curiously interesting diversion. After Ward Cove, the scenery consisted of residential areas with some nice homes along the route.


The shoreline of Tongass Narrows is lined with homes and businesses.

By the time I had reached Mud Bay the wind had let up, the clouds had cleared, and it was actually getting hot. There were people out swimming with their kids in the 50° water. That is a bit to cold for me to get into voluntarily, but I guess these hardy Alaskans are accustomed to it. It was funny to hear the kids yell “hi mister” to me as I paddled by. That is just not something you hear everyday along the Inside Passage.


My kayak on the beach at Point Higgins.

My destination for today was Point Higgins at the end of Tongass Narrows. I landed at 3:30pm after paddling 12 miles from Ketchikan. The beach here is very large and is composed of black gravel and sand with easy landing and launching at any tide level. There is plenty of space in the trees above high tide levels for camping and even a stream if you need water. The views across Behm Canal and Clarence Strait are spectacular. Point Higgins also puts you in perfect position to cross the 7-mile wide opening of Behm Canal to Caamano Point first thing in the morning before the winds have a chance to build. Many of the local residents use the beach for recreational purposes, but some concerned citizens told me this afternoon that a developer is trying to buy the land to build a subdivision. This would be a shame, as there is no other beach in the area that is not private property and off limits to kayakers passing through.


The Alaska Ferry passing Point Higgins.

Day 36 - Tuesday - July 1 - Point Higgins to Niblack Point

The sun coming up over Caamano Point across Behm Canal.

The first thing on today’s schedule was the 7-mile crossing of Behm Canal. I woke up at 4:45am and after getting everything packed up was off at 6:10am headed to Caamano Point on the far side. The crossing went smoothly and just as I reached the point at 8:35am, the wind started to pick up.


Approaching Caamano Point.

After paddling about two miles up the coast, the wind was so strong I decided to try something different and take a break in the middle of the day to see if the wind would calm down. This was the first time I had taken a mid-day break on this trip, usually opting to stay in the boat all day and not even land.


A convenient spot to take a break.

I spotted a notch in the rocky coastline that hid a gravel beach protected from wave action. It looked like the perfect place for a mid-day stopover and a good spot to camp if conditions worsened. Obviously, others thought it was a good place too, because someone had built a cabin up in the trees.
The sun was shining brightly so I took the opportunity to lay my wet things out to dry while waiting for the wind to let up. I had my kayak tied to a big rock with the bowline as I always did when I was more than a few feet away from it. This was fortunate because all of a sudden it tried launching itself by sliding down the slick gravel beach into the water. If not tied down, I definitely would have had to dive into the water to get it back.


The wind whips up Clarence Strait.

At 12:15pm, after waiting 2 hours, the wind had quieted down enough to give paddling another try. Back towards Caamano Point, a group of Humpback Whales was feeding along the route I had taken earlier. There are many gravel beaches to camp on along this shoreline most of which look to be made of green pebbles. On one of them, I saw a Black Bear feeding among the drift logs. This was the first of many Black Bears I would see along this stretch of the trip.


My campsite on the beach at Niblack Point.

I had hoped to put in over 20 miles today but the wind and current were both against me and at 2:15pm, after paddling only 14 miles, it was time to stop for the day. A beach near Niblack Point composed of small rounded pebbles and with beautiful views up and down Clarence Strait would be home for the night. Far to the south down the strait, I could see a wall of fog slowly heading my way. It was odd looking because the sky was still clear and blue while the fog was a thick layer hugging the ground up to about 500 feet. Luckily, it did not reach my location and I had a clear, dry afternoon. Big cruise ships passed all evening heading north out of Ketchikan to their next port of call, probably Juneau. My cell phone curiously worked today but not yesterday, when I was even closer to Ketchikan.


A cruise ship heading north out of Ketchikan in Clarence Strait.

Day 37 - Wednesday - July 2 - Niblack Point to Meyers Chuck

One of a pair of Black Bears that approached my campsite at Niblack Point as I was packing up.

Today got off to an exciting start. As I was packing up, I spotted two Black Bears looking for food among the drift logs. They were just down the beach about 50 yards away. I called out to let them know a human was around and continued talking to them as they looked at me curiously. The way they acted, I do not believe they had even seen me until I started making noise. They kept their distance and did not bother me at all. By the time I was in my boat and launching, they had made their way to the spot where my campsite had been, and were busy nosing around for abandoned morsels. I spotted another Black Bear from the kayak a little while later while paddling further up the coast.
After launching at 6:45am, I continued up Clarence Strait along the shore of the Cleveland Peninsula toward today’s destination, Meyers Chuck. Conditions started out in my favor with the wind, waves, and current all going my way. At times, I was going incredibly fast, perhaps 5mph. It did not seem possible, but I felt like swells were coming up Clarence Strait from Dixon Entrance and adding to the mix. A more likely reason was that the swells formed in Clarence Strait by wind blowing across the surface over a long distance.


Taking a break at a rivers mouth south of Meyers Chuck.

I passed Ship Island at 8:15am and was making good time until around 10:10am when the conditions started getting rough. A nice gravel beach out of the wind and waves provided a welcome place to take a break and hope for the wind to let up. Within minutes of stopping, a pod of Orcas, which must have been right behind me, passed the beach heading north. I was glad to be out of the water, as a pod of Orcas swimming around me in rough water would have been nerve racking.


Some small islands near Meyers Chuck come into view.

After an hour, I decided to try again and see if I could make it to Myers Chuck, which was only 3 miles away. I noted later in my logbook, that these three miles were the roughest waters that I had paddled in yet. The waves were on par with or surpassed those I encountered at Cape Fox in Dixon Entrance. If the seas would have been just a little rougher, I may not have been able to handle it. The chart indicates a shallow bottom in this area, which was probably the reason for the rough conditions. I believe the waves increased in steepness as they moved over these shallows.


Paddling into Meyers Chuck.

By 12 noon I had finished my 17 mile paddle to Myers Chuck and was happily pulling up to the dock. The dock here is very nice and it was easy to get out of the boat and unload everything. There are no streets in Myers Chuck so as soon as you step off the dock you are walking on a foot trail.


My tent set up on the lawn next to "The Schoolhouse".

A bulletin board at the dock showed a place for rent called “The Schoolhouse” and included a phone number. I walked over to check it out and it turned out to be a very nice house that could accommodate quite a few people. It would have been too much for a lone kayaker but the big grassy lawn next to it looked perfect for pitching a tent. I used a phone by the dock to call the number and got permission from the owner to camp on the lawn. Before leaving the next day, I left $20 on the porch of “The Schoolhouse” as a token of my appreciation for his hospitality.


My kayak on the dock in Meyers Chuck.

I spent this afternoon walking around on the trails of the town and talking with a couple of the locals and yacht owners on the dock. The weather during my stay was mild and dry and could not have been any nicer. The cell phone worked here and I was able to call home and check in.


A few of the waterfront homes in Meyers Chuck.

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Day 38 - Thursday - July 3 - Myers Chuck to Change Island

Paddling out of Meyers Chuck on a cloudy morning.

I had a nice quiet night at my campsite on the lawn in Meyers Chuck and was pushing off from the dock at 6:20am. The clouds were low, being almost at tree top level, which gave the little town an almost storybook look about it. I paddled through a group of small islands before reaching Lemesurier Point and saw my first sea urchin of the trip. The cloudy skies hid far off mountains from view and made everything look various shades of gray. The winds were light, and it was not raining, so I considered myself lucky after having to deal with the winds of the last few days.


A mountain peak breaks through the clouds as I cross Union Bay.

After crossing the 4½-mile mouth of Union Bay, I made it to Union Point at 8:30am. For the crossing of Vixen Inlet, I stayed close to shore until I came in line with Sunshine Island and then I headed across passing Vixen Point at 10:25am.


Easterly Island in Ernest Sound with Dear Island in the distance.

I pulled into Emerald Bay at 11:45am and spotted a possible campsite at the head of the bay, but since it was so early, I decided to keep going. After reading that this area has a large population of Black and Brown Bears, I thought it might be a good idea to find a small island far from shore on which to camp.


Change Island in Sunny Bay.

As I entered Seward Passage between Deer Island and the Cleveland Peninsula, I spotted a small island in the distance that looked promising. It turned out to be Change Island in Sunny Bay and would be my home for the evening. Landing was easy and it looked like a clear, flat spot in a grassy area would make a perfect campsite. There were wildflowers mixed all throughout the grass, and although grass can tolerate short periods of exposure to salt water, I did not think wildflowers could. It looked like a safe place to camp above, what tonight would be one of the highest tides of the month. The only thing that concerned me was the small pieces of fresh seaweed that I found scattered about in the grass. The only way they could have gotten there was to have floated in on last night’s high tide.


My campsite on Change Island.

Since I was not sure, my campsite was above high tide, some special precautions were called for. I did not set up the tent opting instead for just the pyramid tarp for shelter. All the gear that would not be needed overnight went back in the kayak. I also tied up the kayak with two different lines so it could not go floating off if the tide did come up higher than expected. High tide would be at 1:50am so I set my alarm watch to go off at 1:00am. As it turned out, there was no need to set the watch since I could not get to sleep anyway, as the water began to rise eerily around me.
As the water started getting closer to the pyramid tent, I could hear a noise like rain but it was coming from under the ground cloth beneath me. When I turned on the flashlight, the source revealed itself, hundreds if not thousands of amphipods (aka beach hoppers) were moving through the grass as the tide rose and flooded their lairs. When these little critters move about they pop up in the air and go in every direction thereby causing the rain like sound under my ground cloth. They are creepy looking but harmless and really were no problem.
By 1:00am, the water was right up to the edge of the pyramid so I got up and started moving things a little higher. The air was dead calm and I knew there would not be any big boats passing this area of the coast so boat wakes would not be a problem. By 2:00am, the water was receding quickly and by 2:30am, I was climbing back into the sleeping bag eager to get some rest.


Looking southward down Ernest Sound from Change Island.

Day 39 - Friday - July 4 - Change Island to Blake Island

Six hours makes a big difference with tides in Alaska. Last night I could have launched the kayak from right next to the tent. At launch time this morning, the tide was out so far that it was at least 200 feet to the waters edge and 22 feet below me. I had to carry my kayak and all the gear down a 20 foot jagged rock face and then across the seaweed covered cobble beach. By 7:15am, the boat was in the water and I was heading to today’s destination, Anan Bay.


Heading up Seward Passage.

I followed the east coast of Deer Island to the narrowest spot in Seward Passage then crossed over to the mainland side. Throughout the day, there was almost no wind and no detectable current. The overcast sky was full of low gray clouds that brought rain off and on all day. I kept an eye out for possible campsites, but for the entire 24 miles paddle there were none at all. The whole day passed with no wildlife sightings and only a couple of boats visible off in the distance.


Looking up Bradfield Canal.

It was raining fairly hard when I reached the Anan Bay US Forest Service ranger station at 2pm. Anan Bay is popular with tourists who come to see the large population of Brown and Black Bears that feed on salmon during their annual summer migration up Anan Creek. Most come for a short visit by tour boat or seaplane from Wrangell, Alaska, which is about 40 miles away. The ranger station here is on a large floating platform that has no connection to the shoreline, presumably to keep bears from having access to the building. It dock was well made, and most likely cost a few hundred thousand dollars to construct. I was hoping to rent the one cabin there but predictably, it was already in use for the night. Reservations for the cabin are available in advance but a kayaker has no way of telling exactly what night they will arrive. I asked the ranger if I could set up my tent on the big floating dock connected to the ranger station and he told me I could not. Apparently, it is OK to tie up to the dock and spend the night if you arrive in a yacht but kayakers are forbidden access. I actually could not believe what he was telling me so I asked him again to make sure I understood correctly. I had.
I then asked him if there was any place in the area that I could camp. He replied, “Anywhere I want as long as it’s not on USFS property”. Here is the best part. During our conversation, he actually asked me twice if I would like to take a hike to go see the bears. See the bears! The last thing I wanted to see was “the bears“. What I did want, was to find a safe place to spend the night, which was rapidly approaching, get out of the rain and my wet clothes, and get something to eat. He did not have a clue as to the situation I was in and that my life was actually at stake. After he asked me the second time if I wanted to go see the bears I just paddled off in complete amazement at this ranger’s lack of understanding.


Blake Island from Anan Bay.

I had marked on my charts that there was a campsite on Blake Island four miles away so I headed off in the rain for what I hoped to be a bear free place to spend the night. When I arrived at 3pm at the spot marked on my chart, no place to camp was immediately obvious, but after landing the boat and walking around a bit, a small level spot just above high tide could be made out. This was by far the worst campsite of the entire trip but it was all that was available and would have to do.


Bear Poop right next to my tent.

As I was setting up the pyramid shelter thinking that things could not possibly get any worse, I spotted a big fresh bear pile right where I was putting in a tent stake. Someone else had recently spent time here as I could see where a fish had been cleaned and some of its parts left on a log. I was beginning to feel like bear chum.


My campsite on Blake Island.

There was no choice but to spend the night here so I decided to sleep in my clothes and just throw the sleeping bag on top of me in case Mr. Bear came back. To lessen the chance of a bear encounter, I decided to launch at 3am just as it would be getting light.


Blake Channel from my campsite on Blake Island.

Day 40 - Saturday - July 5 - Blake Island to Wrangell

I did not get much sleep last night waiting to see if Yogi showed up. Luckily he was off somewhere with Boo Boo, maybe at the rangers station.


Heading up Blake Channel early in the morning.

At 3am, the tide was at its highest and only a few feet from the tent. It was light enough to see so I decided to pack up and go. At 3:45am I was on the water and heading north up Blake Channel. This was the earliest I had been on the water yet and it was actually very nice. What light there was came in at a low angle and made the mountains in the distance take on a completely different appearance.


The Narrows between Blake Channel and Eastern Passage.

There was an island just past “The Narrows” that I was heading for that was supposed to have a campsite on it. It was only 16 miles from Blake Island, and although I would arrive early in the morning, I could spend the day resting after the long paddles of the last two days. When I approached the island at 9:20am, there was only one spot to land so I pulled up and went to check out the top of the beach. I could hardly believe my eyes. The whole area showed signs that bears had been feeding on Skunk Cabbage within the last few hours. The leaves that had been broken off had not even wilted yet, and the dirt was turned over as if it had been plowed. I was not about to spend another night worried about a bear encounter so I immediately got back in the boat and took off.


Looking up Eastern Passage toward Wrangell.

There were 19 more miles to Wrangell but it was still early and I felt good so I decided to go for it. If conditions did not prevent it, I would be in Wrangell by 4pm. I headed up Eastern Passage hugging the western shoreline, which had plenty of beaches suitable for camping. With my sights now set on Wrangell, I passed dozens of potential campsites without a thought of stopping. The weather cooperated with only light winds coming from the southeast and the current was of no consequence. My shoulders and arms were now beginning to hurt a little more each day and it was necessary to take ibuprofen to keep the pain manageable.


The muddy waters of the Stikine River cloud the waters of Eastern Passage.

Just as I rounded the north tip of Wrangell Island and was within a mile of the town, a strong squall hit with 30 mph winds and heavy rain coming out of the southwest. All I could do was keep my head down and try to make headway against it by staying close to the coast and out of the strongest gusts further offshore. Luckily, it only lasted about 15 minutes, and by the time I reached town, it had stopped completely. When I landed, I looked at my hands and saw that my fingers were soft, white, and smashed flat from holding the paddle for so long.
My plan was to land on a beach near the Fennimore B&B and see if I could get a room there for two nights. I tied up the kayak and walked about 100 yards over to the B&B. No one was there and calling the phone number gave me a recorded message. It was 3:00pm and I had just finished paddling 35 miles in 11 hours and 15 minutes. It was raining and cold and all I could do was to carry all my gear up and hope they had a room for me.
This was possibly the most dangerous place on the trip over which I had to carry my gear. The head of the beach is composed of broken slabs of cement interspersed with re-bar, broken glass, and other trash along with tall weeds throughout. Carrying everything up, and then two days later down, this twenty-foot high obstacle course was a feat that I luckily accomplished with no damage to equipment or myself. It could have ended much differently with just one missed step.
I called the phone number repeatedly for the next two hours until at 5pm, I finally reached the owner who told me there was room and she would be over in a little while. By 7pm, I was in the room, taking a shower, and getting into some dry clothes. Later, I walked into downtown Wrangell and got some dinner then called home to report my adventures of the last few days.

Day 41 - Sunday - July 6 - Wrangell layover

Reliance Harbor in Wrangell.

Today was a layover day in Wrangell so I had the opportunity to look around town a bit. Since I was not very happy with my landing spot yesterday, I went over to “Reliance Harbor” to see what landing there would be like. Right in front of the harbormasters office is a small seaplane dock with a rack of kayaks on it. The harbormaster informed me that a kayaker passing through could leave their boat on the dock in a designated spot for a couple of nights. Within a few blocks of the harbor are lodging options that may be better for a kayaker than where I stayed.


The Alaska Ferry approaching the dock in Wrangell.

It being Sunday and raining there was not much activity around town. I washed my clothes at a laundromat then checked out the local outdoor shop. Two well-stocked local grocery stores provided me with a few fresh items to add to my food cache. Since it was Sunday, I could not pick up my box of food from the post office so that would have to wait for tomorrow morning. A couple of small local restaurants did a good job of putting some weight back on me since my last layover day in Ketchikan, a week ago.

Day 42 - Monday - July 7 - Wrangell to Frederick Sound

I could not launch early today for two reasons. I had to pick up my food box from the post office, which meant waiting for it to open. The other reason was that early on today’s route I would have to traverse the shallow sand flats of the Stikine River Delta. Since many areas along this route are only a few inches deep, it is only possible to transit them on a rising or high tide. Even a kayak can run aground in these shallows and become stuck. This meant planning my departure so as not to be stuck on a sand flat during a falling tide. This might not sound like a big deal until you realize you could be stuck for six or more hours surrounded by soggy sand with no way to move until the next high tide arrives. Low tide today was -1.3 feet at 10:30am and high tide was 15.6 feet at 5:15pm. This was a 17-foot difference in less than seven hours.


Kadin Island is straight ahead as I launch from Wrangell.

After getting all my gear down to the waters edge, I packed up the boat and was launching at 10:30am and heading across the mouth of the Stikine River toward Kadin Island. I reached the southern tip of Kadin at 12:10pm and headed northwest toward the northern tip of Rynda Island. The chart showed shallow water in this area and I thought since it was two hours into a rising tide I could make it across. The Stikine River makes the water a muddy brown and you cannot see the bottom like most other places along the route. Because of this, you cannot tell how deep the water is until your paddle touches bottom.


The valley of the Stikine River cuts through the coast range.

About a half mile from Kadin Island, I ran aground but managed to back out and find a deeper passage. I ended up heading south and going all the way to Greys Island where the chart showed greater water depths. I was then able to follow the Coast of Rynda Island and make my way through Dry Strait with no more problems as the water continued to rise.



Paddling through Dry Strait.

Halfway through Dry Strait I could see a large flock of what looked like birds swirling and undulating in the air over an exposed sand flat in the distance. As I approached, it became apparent that this was not a far off flock of birds, but a dense swarm of insects, possibly gnats, that were close by. I changed course to avoid them but a few found their way to me and alighted on the deck of my kayak covering it with hundreds of their creepy little bodies. Luckily, they were not in a biting mood and I made it through the area with no problem. This did prompt me however to move my mosquito head net from inside the kayak to a place in my deck bag for the rest of the trip.


Icebergs floating in Frederick Sound after drifting out of Leconte Bay.

As I made my way along the shoreline of Mitkof Island I was entering the lower stretches of Frederick Sound with LeConte Bay directly across in the distance. Icebergs that had calved off the LeConte Glacier were making their way out into Frederick Sound giving me my first views of floating ice on the trip.


Looking back on Dry Strait and Coney Island from my campsite on Frederick Sound.

Although the Mitkof Island shoreline is covered with sand beaches, they are all shallow and most would not be protected from high tides. As I searched the shoreline looking for a decent place to make camp, I kept seeing Black Bears, three in all, over a distance of about five miles. This was not looking good.


My campsite on the wooden float in Frederick Sound.

At 6:30pm, after paddling 26 miles, I came across a large wooden float or dock that had washed up on the beach and was sitting almost level. This turned out to be an incredible find and provided a perfect spot to camp. I was able to sit back and watch as icebergs and bergy-bits floated by in Frederick Sound all evening. As I was setting up camp, I spotted a baby Black Bear feeding in the grass about 100 feet away. Luckily mom-ma bear was nowhere around. Occasionally throughout the evening, it would call out with a sound almost like a cow calf, apparently trying to make contact with its lost mother.

Day 43 - Tuesday - July 8 - Frederick Sound to Petersburg

The bears left me alone last night on the beached dock so I was able to get a few hours sleep. This turned out to be a good spot to camp considering the other choices that were available in the area. By 7:10am, I had packed up and was launching into Frederick Sound, heading for today’s destination, Petersburg, Alaska. Far across the sound, I could see the water covered with car-sized icebergs that had floated out from LeConte Bay. The current and wind were both with me so I made good time. It was raining off and on and the air temperature was in the low 50’s. I was able to stay comfortably warm as long as I kept paddling.


The only other paddler I ran into on this leg of my trip took the only photo of me in my kayak.

Today I ran into the first kayaker I had seen yet on this year’s trip. His name was Dave and he was going on a three-day trip in the opposite direction having just left Petersburg. We stopped and talked for a while and I asked him to take a few photos of me, as I did not have any of myself while actually on the water. Dave turned out to be the only other kayaker I came across in the 48 days of paddling on this trip.
The wind was strong as I got to within a couple of miles of Petersburg but luckily, it was still going my way. Once into Wrangell Narrows the current was against me slowing my progress to about 1 mph. I pulled into the first harbor I reached to get out of the current, and passed a series of huge fish processing facilities built up on piles that lined the entrance to the harbor. As soon as I got past these large commercial buildings, the Harbormasters office came into view. It was 11am and I had just paddled 14 miles from last night’s campsite. I pulled up to the dock, went in to the office, and booked a space in the harbor for the next two nights. The office staff was very helpful and told me I could store my kayak right next to the gangway on the dock in front of their office. This spot was perfect except for one thing, it was covered with green slime and was very slippery. If landing here, keep a blue tarp available to haul yourself and all your gear onto to avoid the slime.


The harbor in Petersburg from the Tides Inn Hotel.

Just two blocks away from this dock is the “Tides Inn” hotel, which was recommended by the staff in the Harbormasters office. This turned out to be the perfect place to stay while in Petersburg. The room was very nice and had a great view of the harbor and Wrangell Narrows. Although it was a little pricey, it was centrally located to downtown and within a short walking distance of the dock and my boat. This turned out to be very handy.
I spent my first evening in Petersburg looking around town and getting oriented. Petersburg is much larger than Wrangell but still smaller than Ketchikan. The port looks to be highly commercial with hundreds of large fishing boats tied up to the docks. There is not as much tourism trade in Petersburg as in Ketchikan partly because the big cruise ships do not stop here. Travelers will find plenty of places to eat and many stores available selling all types of supplies. I spotted a few tourists walking around, but not in the large numbers that I saw in Prince Rupert and Ketchikan.

Day 44 - Wednesday - July 9 - Petersburg layover

Today was a layover in Petersburg and predictably, it rained all day. I did my laundry and got a haircut, then went to a grocery and bought some supplies and packed them in the kayak. I listened to the weather forecast for the next few days on the TV in the hotel room and hung up some of my wet things to dry. My main goal during this layover was to rest and get ready for the push to Juneau.

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Day 45 - Thursday - July 10 - Petersburg to Bay north of Point Vandeput

Second Leg - Days 45-52 - Petersburg to Juneau




The main natural and man made features encountered along this stretch of the route include:
The town of Petersburg, Cape Fanshaw, Stephens Passage, Port Houghton, Holkham Bay, Taku Inlet, Gastineau Channel, and the city of Juneau.


Heading across Frederick Sound toward the Sukoi Islands.

Today I set off from Petersburg and started what would be a weeklong paddle to my next destination, Juneau, Alaska. After carrying all my gear down to the boat and loading it up, I was pushing off from the dock at 6:50am. The overcast sky was solid gray, and the air was chilly, but it was not raining and the wind was light, so conditions were good for paddling.


An iceberg in Frederick Sound.

I headed north in Frederick Sound and paddled diagonally across 6 miles of open water through the Sukoi Islands reaching Point Agassiz on the far side at 9:30am. During the crossing, I passed a hand full of icebergs that were the size of commercial fishing boats. These had drifted north either from the LeConte Glacier or south through Tomas Bay from the Baird Glacier. I carefully kept enough distance between the icebergs and myself in case one of them decided to flip just as I passed.


Stormy weather approaching.

After reaching the eastern or mainland side of the sound, I made my way up to Wood Point and the entrance to Thomas Bay. The bays entrance is about 3 miles across with Point Vandeput marking the northern tip at the end of a long peninsula.
Once past the imposing opening of Thomas Bay I started looking for a place to camp. The peninsula that forms Point Vandeput is mostly a long sand beach but the foreshore is composed of large barnacle encrusted boulders at low tide that makes it unsuitable for camping. At the head of the peninsula, near an opening to a shallow lagoon, I found a perfect spot to camp. After paddling 22 miles from Petersburg, I landed here at 2:35pm.


My campsite three miles north of Point Vandeput.

The lagoon here is shown as Dry Bay on topographic maps but is un-named on nautical charts. The shore is sand at all tide levels and big solid rocks high up the beach make a good spot to cook and sit back and watches for whales. This site was very buggy most likely because of its close proximity to the shallow lagoon hidden behind it. That obviously has not stopped other people from using it, as there is a large cleared camping area up in the trees that is well above the highest tides. It would also be a perfect spot to get out of high winds.
A seemingly endless parade of boats passed by offshore all evening making their way through Frederick Sound heading toward Petersburg and Juneau.

Day 46 - Friday - July 11 - Bay north of Point Vandeput to Whitney Island

The Alaska Ferry in Frederick Sound.

After waking up at 5am this morning, I was packed up and launching into Frederick Sound at 6:30am. The sky was a solid mass of dreary gray but it was not raining and conditions were favorable for a good day on the water. As I paddled up the mainland coast, a light wind at my back, along with a favorable current, helped to push me along. By 9:15am, I had reached Grand Point at the mouth of Farragut Bay. I made it across the 5-mile opening of the bay with no difficulty and reached Bay Point on the far side at 10:30am.


Heading NW up Frederick Sound toward Cape Fanshaw.

The junction of Frederick Sound and Stevens Passage, where I was paddling today, is a huge opening in the Inside Passage with lots of boat traffic of every kind. There were dozens of commercial fishing boats, private yachts, Alaska ferries, and cruise ships plying the waters offshore as I paddled inconspicuously close to the shoreline and out of the way.


A commercial fishing boat in Frederick Sound.

At one point, I was amazed to hear rapid bursts of automatic weapon fire coming from one of the commercial fishing boats that I passed. I could not tell where they were shooting but at least they were not aiming toward me. A little later, a Black Bear feeding among the drift logs came into view along the shore. I did not know it at the time but this was the last bear I would see on the trip.


Cape Fanshaw at the junction of Frederick Sound and Stephens Passage.

After paddling 27 miles, I reached Cape Fanshaw at 2:30pm. The Cape encompasses a headland with beautiful views of Frederick Sound and Stephens Passage. There are nice gravel beaches right on the cape that would make excellent campsites. I did not stop to investigate them however. I had read in a guide book that Storm Island, just 2 miles away, had good campsites and since islands were preferable whenever possible to reduce the risk of bear encounters, that was my destination for the evening.


My first view of Stephens Passage and the Five Fingers Islands.

After searching the shoreline of Storm Island for the promised campsite, it was apparent that not only was there no place to camp, there was not even a place to land. I was kicking myself for passing up the nice gravel beach back at the cape, but there was no turning back, so I headed off to Whitney Island a mile away and hoped for better luck. At 4pm, after paddling 32 miles, I pulled up on Whitney Island at what I would describe as an emergency campsite. It was barely level, and just above high tide, but it would have to do for the night. By 5:40pm, I was sitting warm and dry under my pyramid tent eating dinner and drinking coffee to the sound of raindrops hitting the nylon.


The Five Fingers Islands from my campsite on Whitney Island.

As soon as I rounded Cape Fanshaw and entered Stephens Passage, I started seeing Humpback Whales breaking the surface in every direction. At my campsite this evening, the sounds of dozens of whales breathing was clearly audible off in the distance. After hearing an exhalation, there was just enough time to look up and see their misty breath disappearing in the breeze. Often, after hearing a loud slap, I would turn just in time to see where a breaching whale had come crashing back down into the water. After viewing a whale take four or five breaths in a row, it was common to see them dive and expose their tail as they went straight down. I spent this whole evening sitting back and watching dozens of Humpback Whales and Sea Lions feeding in the waters just offshore.


My campsite on Whitney Island with Storm Island in the distance.

Day 47 - Saturday - July 12 - Whitney Island to Hobart Bay

Getting ready to launch from Whitney Island.

Since yesterday was such a long day, I decided to sleep late and did not get up until 6:30am. I took my time, had some breakfast for a change, and did not launch until 9am. Last night the whales were breathing very rhythmically and slowly as if they were just floating at the surface and resting. It was a very different breathing sound than what they make while feeding in the daytime. The night was also filled with loud growling sounds coming from a group of Stellar Sea Lions.


Sea gulls and ducks watch me paddle past.

As I paddled past the north tip of Whitney Island, just 2 miles from last night‘s camp, I came across a group of huge sea lions. Most of them were in the water, near the rocks they used for a haul out spot. They kept their distance and watched me as I passed, but eerily they did not seem to be scared of me at all. As I paddled alone in their midst, I seemed strangely out of place surrounded by a group of large meat eating animals. With all eyes on me and lots of big teeth showing, the thought entered my mind,” What are they thinking?” Luckily, I passed through them with no problem.


Cloudy skies on Stephens Passage.

The cloudy skies and calm winds combined to produce perfect conditions for paddling. The fantastic scenery of Stephens Passage helped make today’s paddle one of the best days on the entire trip. There were whales visible everywhere and their breathing provided a constant reminder that I was not alone in this remote Alaskan wilderness. The low hanging clouds often looked like smoke emerging from the trees, and would from time to time, allow a distant snow covered mountain peak to reveal itself.


Clouds obscure the mountaintops across Port Houghton.

By 10:50am, I had reached the entrance to a large bay marked as Port Houghton on the charts though it is just a protected anchorage with no facilities. When I started across the 5-mile wide opening of this bay, the wind was calm, but it soon increased out of the northwest to a manageable 5mph. The wind and a slight current against me slowed me down a little, but by 12:30pm, I had made the crossing and was paddling close to shore and rounding Point Hobart.


A Humpback Whale surfaces nearby.

During the crossing whales were visible and audible in every direction and all around me, both out in Stephens Passage and in Port Houghton. Being around so many large creatures is slightly un-nerving. Although I knew they would never intentionally try to hurt me, it nonetheless comes to mind, particularly being in a kayak, that they may just bump into the boat by accident and cause a serious problem.


Entering Hobart Bay.

As I rounded Point Hobart and entered Hobart Bay a large beach came into view situated on an island in the bay. On a peninsula that separates the inner and outer parts of the bay was a small but modern looking dock along with a couple of buildings nearby. I did not feel the need to investigate, but this facility could come in handy for another paddler in need of some kind of assistance.


My campsite in Hobart Bay.

At 2:15pm, after paddling 17 miles, I was pulling up on the big island in Hobart Bay. On the charts, this island is only marked as “wooded” with no other name given. The beach here is composed of mixed sand and gravel and would be easy to launch and land on at any tide level. I was able to set up camp on a thick mat of dried seaweed that had washed up and conveniently carpeted a nice level spot. After walking all around the area, no signs of bears feeding was apparent, and there were no bothersome bugs like many of my previous campsites. The beach here is protected from wind and waves in every direction.

Day 48 - Sunday - July 13 - Hobart Bay to Sand Bay

A beach along the shore in Stephens Passage.

After fighting the current for a while yesterday, I decided to try to time today’s departure so that I would be riding the rising tide as it flooded north up Stephens Passage. Since low tide was around 4:45am, I wanted to launch near that time to take advantage of the current going my way. With this goal in mind, I woke up at 3am and had the boat packed up and in the water at 4:20am. I noted throughout today’s paddle the direction of the current at different times and places and found that it seemed to switch back and forth from one location to another. This was probably due to my being close to shore and being caught up in eddies.


Sunset Island appears through the fog out in Stephens Passage.

Today was the first day that I had to deal with fog during the early morning hours. Because my route was along the shoreline, it did not really matter because it was easy to follow the coast. The fog did present some interesting photo opportunities of scenes with an unearthly appearance. The view of Sunset Island out in Stephens Passage was one such shot. Small icebergs drifting in the foggy waters were another amazing sight not seen every day by an Inside Passage kayaker.


Clouds and fog across Windham Bay.

As I was paddling along the shore and approaching Windham Bay, I spotted a large sea lion in the water about 50 feet ahead of me. It was looking straight at me, so I felt it had seen me as it slipped quietly below the waters surface. In a few more strokes, I was right where the sea lion had been and presumed he was in the water somewhere close by and below me. All of a sudden, he surfaced about 5 feet from my kayak and his head was turned away from me. He had not seen me until this moment and as he turned his head and saw me, he panicked. Immediately, he flew out of the water and did a backwards dive, desperately trying to get away from me as fast as possible. I was amazed at his huge size, weighing probably around 500 pounds and spanning 8 feet from head to rear flippers. It all happened so fast that I did not have time to be scared and even surprised myself at how calm I was as it happened. I rated this event as the most exciting close up wild animal encounter that I had on this whole trip.


Approaching the beach at Sand Bay.

By 12:50pm, I had passed Point League and Point Lookout and was paddling into Sand Bay after traveling 27 miles. The northern edge of this little bay is formed by a peninsula that provides a great campsite with unbelievable views up and down Stephens Passage. All afternoon Humpback Whales were surfacing and feeding just offshore of the peninsula where I was camped. This campsite is definitely in the top five of all the sites I stayed at while on this trip. The beach here consists of cobblestones, which is not my favorite for launching and landing but the scenic amenities more than make up for this slight inconvenience. There is space up in the trees for a tent during nights with very high tides or during stormy weather. Luckily, I was able to stay out on the beach this night with the pyramid pitched over a bed of small gravel. I did not notice any fresh water source at this site.


Looking south from my campsite on Sand Bay to Stephens Passage.

Day 49 - Monday - July 14 - Sand Bay to Point Anmer

Heading across Holkham Bay into an early morning fog.

Today I wanted to cross the 6-mile wide mouth of Holkham Bay first thing in the morning before the winds had a chance to pick up. I got up at 4am and was launching at 5:30. This would be the first time I had to make a long open water crossing in such dense fog but I was not overly concerned because all I had to do was follow my compass course setting to the far side.


Harbor Island comes into view through the fog.

I set off from Point Astley and headed north across the mouth of the bay toward Point Coke. Although the horizon was a solid wall of gray, I kept my eye on the compass and forged ahead. Unknown to me at the time was that a current was flowing into Holkham Bay pushing me off course to the east. Before long the fog had lifted enough that, I could see the shoreline of Harbor Island about a half mile away. The only problem was that I was supposed to be passing this island on its west side and instead I was on its east side. I now realized what was happening, adjusted my course to account for the current, and safely made it across at 8:20am. One of the things that helped me figure out a new course was the marker buoys placed along the deep-water channel leading into Tracy Arm.


An iceberg floating in Holkham Bay.

As I approached the northern shore of Holkham Bay, I paddled straight into a strong tiderip caused by current flowing over a shallow bottom. The channel marker buoys that helped me figure out my location were there to warn boaters of these shallows. On top of having to deal with this turbulent water, I could not see very far because of the dense fog. The sounds of whales breathing surrounded me and all I could do was hope that none of them accidentally surfaced below me. I was delighted to be paddling along the shoreline again after this nerve-racking crossing.


Heading north up the eastern shore of Stephens Passage.

I continued paddling up the east coast of Stephens Passage along the Snettisham Peninsula. I constantly kept my eyes on the kelp leaves flowing in the current to check and see if the current was with me or against me. It looked like the rising or falling of the tide had no effect at all on the direction of the current. It always seemed to be flowing southward in Stephens Passage, at least close to the shoreline.


A good beach comes into view at Point Anmer.

By 2:15pm, after paddling at least 24 miles, I found a good beach to camp on at Point Anmer just south of Port Snettisham. This site is composed of smooth rounded gravel all the way down to the water, making landing, launching, and camping, very easy. The high beach provided great views up and down Stephens Passage and protection from even the highest tides. Juneau is now only 44 miles away, and if the weather continues cooperating, I should be there in 2 days.


My campsite at Point Anmer on Stephens Passage.

Day 50 - Tuesday - July 15 - Point Anmer to Taku Inlet

Today’s destination, the mouth of Taku Inlet, would put me within a day’s paddle of Juneau so I was anxious to get going and put some miles behind me. I found that as Skagway got closer, it was possible to predict with more accuracy on what day the trip would end. This gave me an even greater incentive to paddle longer each day and give it everything I had to try to finish as soon as possible.


Crosing the mouth of Port Snettisham.

The first thing I had to do this morning was to cross the two mile wide opening of Port Snettisham and an early start would ensure not being hindered by strong winds. After waking at 3:45am, I was launching into Stephens Passage at 5am and heading north.


A cruise ship heads north up Stephens Passage.

Unlike the previous two days, there was no fog today. The whole day was beautiful, with calm dry air and patches of blue everywhere in the sky. By 6:40am, I had made it across the mouth of Port Snettisham and past Point Styleman and was safely cruising up the rocky shoreline.


Commercial fishermen set their nets in Stephens Passage.

Today must have been the start of fishing season because Stephens Passage was full of commercial fishing boats putting out gill nets. The season apparently started at 9am because all the boats started putting out their nets at the exact same time as if on queue. The beginning of the net would be set close to shore and was marked with a big orange float, and then a series of small white floats would keep the top of the net at the waters surface. These nets would be unwound from large spools mounted on the rear of the fishing boat and would extend maybe 200 yards out from the end near the shore. The nets were so numerous, and set so close to shore, that it was necessary to paddle over the tops of some of them as they were set right in my path. At first, I was worried that the fishermen would have a problem with me going over their nets, but none of them gave any indication that it bothered them.


Taku Harbor

As I approached the entrance to Taku Harbor, a pod of Orcas was swimming at a very fast rate of speed into the harbor. I stopped paddling for a while, and just watched in amazement at the speed they were traveling. They went a short way into the harbor, then turned back and headed out, just as fast as they had gone in.


A huge male sea lion checks me out as I paddle past.

A few minutes later, I spotted another huge sea lion out ahead of me, but this time I made sure he saw me before getting too close. His head was as big as a basketball, and he looked similar to a large bear fishing for salmon with wet facial hair. I waved my paddle in the air and called out to ensure he knew a human was around. He just looked at me and held his ground, obviously not intimidated at all by my presence in his territory.