Mayne Island: Part 2 of 3 (or so)
Did you read Part 1?
We are staying the weekend in swanky
camping accommodations at Miner's Bay on Mayne Island. This is a
Oregon Ocean Paddling Society (OOPS) trip, one of their many big and
exciting ventures of the year. My partner went on this last year by
herself and had some big fun and
adventure.
So I was looking to her this year to take care of me and make sure
that I had a good time. She did this by making sure we had a good
campsite and then doing more than her fair share to carry all of my
heavy camping gear the 200 yards from the car down the little trail
to the site. A site with a really pretty view, but no fire pit. We were traveling in luxury, though. We had a queen size inflatabed and
a power source to auto-inflate it as well as a dining fly and the
usual array of Coleman stoves and lanterns. We had a little too much
stuff to carry.
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Trail to the campsite. Those rocks got old quick |
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View From Camp. Oh, look, a Ferry. |
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Seal Beach. Where are the Seals? |
The Little Trip
But once we had our campsite set up, we
still had plenty of time for a quick afternoon paddle around the bay.
Just something to get our juices going. We signed out of camp for a
personal paddle (OOPS is very safety conscious) and launched our
matching Tempest 170s from the little boat landing on the camp
grounds. The water was cold but still as we headed across the bay.
Halfway out we ran into one of the morning OOPS group trips just
coming back from around the point. We paddled out to say hi to them
but they were in an all fired hurry to get back to camp and blew
right by us with hardly a word. They almost looked like they were
running from something (it turned out they were just having a
friendly race to the beer, but I didn't know this at the time). So my
partner and I continued West to the far side of the bay. The wind was
starting to blow, it was scooping down off of the central “mountain”
of Mayne Island and starting to stir up the waters of the bay. Now
this bay is sort of a big jetty of that Active Passage that I told
you about, and as the water swirls by in high speed out in the
passage, it puts a spin on the bay; clockwise on the incoming tide,
counterclockwise on the outgoing tide. Right in the middle of the bay
is a little clump of stuff that is stuck there in the central spin
point. Not a hugely fast spin, mind you, but you can still feel it
when you kayak through.
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Our boat launch. And the owners place. We don't get to go in there |
Today we were kayaking out toward the
edge of the bay. My partner wanted to see what conditions were like
just out beyond the edge of the bay in Active Pass. She wanted us to just
go around the corner. We would stay out of the fast current and
eddies, probably. But the wind was blowing up swells behind us and BC
Ferries were making swells in front of us and the current was
starting to move and swell around us and the one place that you
wanted to be to be out of the current (close to the rocks) you didn't
want to be because of the swell (close to the rocks). And I finally
just said “No”.
“Just a little further”
“No. No further. I am already freaked
out right here. Going back now”
“Oh, OK”.
“No. NOT OK. Going back”
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Oh. Two Ferris. Looking North West down Active Pass. |
And so I retreated back into the bay
and she came with. Once we got back over by the camp site things
calmed down again and we explored a little around the point. But I
still had a black feeling in my heart for the long and challenging
paddles that we had planned this weekend. We were going to pass
across Active Pass with the club. I was going to have to suck it up.
It is extremely difficult for an exceedingly powerful, intelligent,
courageous, (good looking), and independent (vane) man to get around
the fact that his partner is sitting there calmly while he is
fracking freaking out. It took me a long time to come down. Hard to
suck it up in the midst of irrational (really? Did you see those
swells?) fear. The “you should not be afraid” argument is, of
course, What? You flip over and get wet? I will pull you out. Have
done so before. Sigh.
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Back in Calmer Waters (campsite in the background, I think) |
We got back to camp just in time for me
to start preparing dinner. The OOPS people (can't say the OOPS guys
since the gender ratio is pretty much 1:1) have this new weekend
procedure which is:
Friday Night: Pot Luck Group
Dinner
Saturday Night: Left Overs from
Friday and hors d'oeuvres
Sunday Night: Dinner out.
This turns out to be a really great
schedule but you sort of have to think about it and realize how it
works to take maximum advantage of it. For instance, I didn't think
that there would be enough food leftover on Saturday, so I had
planned cooking on both Friday and Saturday. Other people knew there
would be enough food and what they did was bring a premade covered dish (like Lasagna they made at home). Then they didn't
have to cook AT ALL on the trip. This means they didn't have to carry
a stove and pots and pans to their camp site. This is very smart. I
had to do cooking for Friday (and in fairness, there were several
others with this same plan). I made my camping spaghetti and red
sauce (with sausage). I like to make my spaghetti sauce from
individual canned ingredients (tomato sauce and sliced tomatoes) and
throw in sauteed onions and mushrooms and such. It probably doesn't
taste any better than a jar of pre-made stuff, but it makes me feel
more authentic.
We had a very large and pleasant
gathering with 30 or so other OOPS people. Plenty of food, that is
for sure. Then we had a debrief of the day's trips. Talked about what
went wrong and what went right. And then they talked about what trips
would be offered the next day and what people would be going where.
There were two main trips offered. One
would be crossing at the East end of Active Pass and exploring around
the islands off the Southeast tip of Galiano. The other trip was
crossing at the West end of the passage and going along the cliffs on
the Southwest coast of Galiano to look at the tide pools and tide
“walls” and the marine life therein. Both sounded pretty cool. I
chose the East crossing as being slightly less difficult (and perhaps
because it would make me retrace my path from that fiasco yesterday).
I love the summers in the Pacific
Northwest. In the farther norther latitudes the sun doesn't set
till.... well.... bedtime. This means that after dinner we had
several hours of light to do anything we wanted (like blogging, or
enjoying the sunset). One of the much enjoyed features of this
campsite is an outdoor shower. It is a raised platform (6 feet)
around a giant old tree. The shower head is afixed to the tree and
the wooden decking goes all the way around. On the trail side of the
tree the fence is 8 foot high, but on the bay facing side the fence
is around waste height. This gives you this “being naked in the
wilderness” sort of feeling which is extremely pleasant. And
perhaps a little “oh we are being bad” sort of fun. This is a
warm water shower and the water drains right into the forest, so you
have to use environmentally friendly soap (which is provided). Also,
since Mayne Island is an island surrounded by salt water, they don't
have a lot of Fresh water. So the really green and eco-friendly and
all around just concerned about the good of the planet and our fellow
man type campers will insist on sharing the shower with someone. I
suggest a beautiful partner. Just feels more eco-friendly that way.
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OK, this is not the shower picture. Still trying to convince my partner to post that one.
Something about decency and laws and such. |
In the morning the tide was high. I took some more pictures from our very wonderful campsite out on the point.
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Oh, there are the seals! |
The Big Trip
So. We are going kayaking, big time,
tomorrow. Perhaps we should discuss the situation a little.
The first thing to do was to get across
Active Pass. Now I know what you are thinking, “Why do they call it
Active Pass?”. Surely it must be because the currents and water are
so “active” all of the time. It surely must be an interesting
(dangerous) place to get such a name. But no, it turns out that pass
namers aren't that subtle and introspective. If that had been
the case they would have named it “Fast Water” pass, or “Bob
died a horrible drowning death here” pass. No, the pass is named
for the USS Active, a United States Navy survey vessel which was the
first steamer to navigate the pass in 1855. I have a problem here.
Wikipedia gives me links to more info about the USS Active, but those
links claim that no such vessel ever sailed on the west coast. More
study shows that it may have been a Coast Guard vessel, or at least
not an USN vessel. But that may have had something to do with delivering
the news that started the 1849 (49's) gold rush. Or not. So....
perhaps it is just “Active”.
Now, back to our exciting story:
We powered across miners bay and
arrived at the choke point of Active Pass right at slack water. Right
there where the bay hits the pass is a big eddy current loop. Right
where I freaked out yesterday. Lots of flotsam gets caught in the
whirl and we saw many trees along with other floating debris. We waited near the cliffs and then used VHF to contact BC Ferry control.
We identified ourselves as “11 Kayakers”.
“11 Kayakers at Laura Point wanting
to cross Active Pass to Burril point. Please advise on Ferry
traffic.”
“North Bound traffic coming now.
Clear after that” (Ok, the pretty skinny blond BC Ferry control
voice said something more official sounding than that but I forget
what it was. I bet she was wearing a uniform)
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Powering across to Burril Point. |
So we waited for the ferry, which came
skidding around the bend, and then we waited for the wake to pass and
then we powered across. Right at the slack tide. It was a pretty easy
crossing. No wind, no current, which was the whole idea. If you go at
the right time, then nothing is going to be happening and you get to
have a nice day and continue that whole “stay living” thing. Good
Job !!
We paddled past the Galiano Island ferry
stop and around the corner and over to Gossip Island. (“You know
what they say about Gossip Island, don't you?”). Here we ran into
a bunch of Bald Eagles having a merry time with each other. A mating
pair was hanging around (one up on a flag pole) and were rather upset
at how close a pair of immature interlopers where getting. A little
ariel battle occurred. One of the mature (white headed) eagles
grabbed one of the immature eagles (brown headed) and they whirled
around a bit over our heads. Glad they didn't come down on a kayak. I
am not sure who won. The youngsters stuck around and landed on the
rocks and were working on something dead they had over there.
One of the things that the OOPS
organization does is to stress safety and training. There is usually
a little bit of paddle or safety practice and instruction to be had
on any given excursion. Today, we were doing some instruction on
“Rock Gardening”. This is the practice of riding the swells and
waves up amongst the rocks and barnacles near shore. I wasn't
participating. I was watching and trying not to flip over. I did hear
repeatedly that “The gel coat on a kayak is just a wear layer. You
can paint it back on later”. Many were having none of that. I did
respond that the same could be said of Skin. Now how, you may ask,
does gliding up on the rocks map into my statement about safety?
Well, if you are going to do anything adventurous, there is going to
be a certain amount of risk. Risk mitigation becomes the key word,
and for that you need training in how to do risky things with as much
safety as possible. Just going out on the water is a bit risky. So we
wear Personal Flotation Devices (PFD) and cold water emersion suits
and practice self and partner rescues. Same for rock gardening. Do it
in a relatively calm situation and learn the tricks from an
experienced expert.
We had been paddling for about 2 hours
and my boat was starting to fill up with water. OK, it was actually
my bladder that was full, and since the rest of the group seemed to
have similar concerns we pulled into a secluded beach off of Galiano
and did some leg stretching and ate some food.
We were right off of
this little island with this great big house on it. Now there is an
expensive place. You have to buy the rock, you have to cart in all of
the wood and cement and such to build the place. How do you get it
there? Helicopter? Barge? Lots of people carrying stuff up the steps
of the cliffs? And once you have it built, where do you get water and
power? A generator, sure, where do you get your gas? All I am saying
is that it must be very expensive and a bit of a hassle even to
visit. You have to carry your week's food and clothes up the rocks?
And I bet that sewage and trash disposal must be a problem. Oh to
have those worries.
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Alone on the Rock |
And, of course, our children would
never visit us. No Internet. (Don't be silly, Dad. Look at that
mansion, of course there is internet!)
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Purple Sea Stars. White Boat. Rock |
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Nicer Rock |
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Guard Geese |
Back across to the main island and we
have been paddling for a while now. I need another bio break but even
more important, I find that my back is getting tired. And this is
making me very wobbly and tippy in the water. I am sure that my
fellow kayakers are noticing. I almost took a tumble when I had my
camera out one time. Not good. I had felt like this before our first
break, but after I had felt fine. Some of it has to do with the
roughness of the water (I last longer on the flat stuff) but I think
a lot of it is just being tired and not being used to my round
bottomed boat yet.
Still, the rocky shoreline is very
beautiful and we are seeing some interesting marine life. We saw a
couple of seals (harbor seals?) and a pair of Stellar Sea Lions. The eagles I had mentioned and any number of seagulls (one apparently
choking on a sea star. Unclear if it had the thing logged in it's
throat or if it was just too stupid to spit it out. Either way, we
saw that bird twice over a 4 hour period with the same thing stuck in
its craw). The most interesting (to me) bird we saw was a Black
Oyster Catcher. My memory doesn't have the bird as being solid black
but the internets assure me that the American Oyster Catcher is only
found on the east coast. I didn't get a chance to get my camera out
and capture a picture of it (because of the aforementioned wobbles)
so I am stealing one from the aforementioned internets.
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But this is a referenced link. I think. Can you click on it? |
At last it is time to head home. We are
on a very well defined schedule here. We crossed Acitve Pass at slack
tide and while we have been puttering around the islands the tide
race through the passage has been going gang busters. Probably very
dangerous to try and cross during that time. Last year when my
partner was out there were some people that tried to cross the
“eddyline” that is created by the fast water in the pass zipping
past the non-moving water close to shore. When you hit that eddyline,
you have to do the right things or you will get flipped over. These
people got flipped and hauled out into the Ferry lanes. They were
fine. Why? Because they had the right equipment and the right
training. But they were capsized in the very fast moving (sort of
white water river like) conditions for more than an hour. A normal
boater in cotton clothing would have been in deep shit.
Oh yeah. Our schedule. We crossed at
around 9:30 AM. Six hours later, at 3:30, would be slack water again.
We would have around 30 minutes of close to no water movement in
which to cross with the most safety. So we had to be on the point
around that time and be ready to cross (and coordinate with BC Ferry
control).
We ended up back at Burril point right
around 3:20. We rafted up and relaxed and called BC Ferry traffic.
They advised us that a Ferry was West Bound and would pass our
location in 10 minutes. We said we would wait for it to clear and
they thanked us for that. This controller was a little more surly
than the last. When we asked for permission to cross she said
something like “I can't give you permission, you have to decide if
you are going to cross”. While probably the more accurate and
truthful statement, not sure it was all that helpful. Perhaps it was.
Perhaps being cognizant of your responsibility for your personal
survival is the best thing.
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Yes, I blurred the faces |
While we were waiting we watched and
talked to a young couple on the scenic rocks behind us. They were
having their wedding pictures taken!! He was in a nice suit and she
in a long flowing white dress and the photographer was doing the
usual things to position them both and the beautiful (but deadly)
rocks of the park that is out on Burril point. I wonder if they were
pissed that their background scenery was capricously littered with
brightly colored kayaks?
At this point I would like to draw your
attention to the parallel of the kayakers and newly weds. Both
setting out on adventures. Both taking along a partner. Which is the
most dangerous? Which group had the appropriate equipment and
training? Did either group have the right maps? On the times when my
partner or I have gone upside down in the river (or deadly sea cave)
the other has always been upright and in control and can offer
assistance. I think that is perhaps not so common in marriage. In
marriage it is more likely that the two will go under as a team.
(well, or live happily ever after). My partner and I are going to be
setting out on this adventure in a couple of weeks. I think we have
better equipment and maps than last time. More safety training. More
experience rock gardening.
Where was I? Oh yeah, waiting for the
Ferry. Did BC Ferry control really say “west bound”? That would
be from Tsawwaassen (promounced Tsawwaassen). We can see a Ferry
coming from that direction, but it sure looks like it is more than 10
minutes away.
It was.
It was almost 30 minutes away. By the
time it crossed in front of us we were getting toward the end of our
safe crossing window (oh this is so exciting). But we were well
rested and so headed across the channel with alacrity just as the
ferry crossed in front of us. Everything was fine and simple until
right around the halfway point I saw an eddyline. It was very clearly
seen in the water. And it made me a little nervous. What was it going
to do? How fast was it moving? Which direction am I supposed to lean
and brace to keep from tipping over? Was it going to grab me and suck
me down to a sea monster that inhabits these depths?
My partner comments, “What's up Jon?
Don't worry, it is just an eddyline, it isn't going to eat you.”
Ha. She was the one that told me the
story about the eddyline eating the kayakers last year.
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Zip across after the Ferry. How come I have no pictures of the man eating Eddyline? |
But it was nothing. Just a strangeness
in the water. Didn't even push me around much. In retrospect, it may
have been a disturbance in the water caused by the prop-wash of the
Ferry. Or it could have been the start of the tide induced current.
The trip leader timed the crossing. 8 minutes for the last kayak to
clear the pass. 8 minutes. We easily could have crossed ahead of the
Ferry (if we had had more accurate timing info). We did later hear
that the Ferry captain was very appreciative of us waiting for him. I
take it that many other groups of Kayakers are perhaps not so well
trained or safety conscious as OOPS and may be out there in the
Ferries way. The Ferry Captains refer to the kayakers as “sea
fleas”. In this case the captain said “Tell the Kayaks thanks for
us”. Good enough.
And so we returned safely to our
campsite. We had plenty of “leftover” food and friendly
conversation with our fellow kayakers. Then we went to bed early.
OK, there may have been another
eco-friendly shower in there someplace.