The Deer Group Islands are in the south east corner of Barkley Sound off Bamfield, British Columbia. A previous article told the story of humpback whale encounters that we made during the second day of a multi-day kayak camping adventure in this gorgeous area. This is Part 2 of our trip.
The next day is a rainy one. The sound of the ongoing dribble keeps us cozy in our sleeping bags, reading. Just odd splashes of irregular waves coming into the bay 30 feet away spark my curiosity to peak through the opening of our well-used tent. The air is moist, and you can smell the earth and ocean. The shiny thin layer of water on rocks, shells and trees gives their subtle natural colours life. We enjoy some downtime after yesterday’s long paddle. The weather forecast predicts three more days of rain for this late autumn adventure. We opt to head back home later today.
Equipped in rain jacket and rain hat I crawl out of our tent to prepare breakfast. I had put up a shelter when we first arrived to be prepared for potential rain. Our green lightweight tarp is strapped over a ridge line and four corners connected with rope nicely tightened, up as high as I could reach. I inspect my back then first solo tarping job in action and troubleshoot it. Two more long sticks will help lift the edges. I watch how the rain slides off one side in a controlled stream as intended. The other side pools up, quite useful for washing dishes under the draining area when lifted slightly to roll over the edge. I am proud of the small accomplishment and glad to have shelter from the ongoing rain. Fred joins me for hot tea and a bowl of steaming cinnamon oatmeal with nuts and fruits. We watch the rain drizzle over the ocean with the warmth of a small campfire that Fred built under our tarp shelter. Being located in the fog bank, the Deer Group Islands allow campfires year-round. This place is serene, wild and beautiful even in the rain. We have had this islet to ourselves over the past days.
Skies clear, the sun gently warms and dries the ground as we break camp and pack our gear. We make sure to leave the islet as we found it, just taking with us what we brought, and beach found garbage we can fit. The way back to our car is a five nautical mile paddle, not too long. We should be able to get there within two hours, though the ocean is stirred up with variable winds and confused seas. In our kayaks we appreciate the skills we have learned over the past few years that help us make better judgement and deal with the dynamic conditions. We understand that our skills fit this sea state and that it is in the upper limits of when we paddle. We will need to cross the passage. Winds shift and change here, so does the direction of the waves, sometimes lifting our kayaks up high, sometimes lowering us down, unable to see the other. This sea state demands focus on the waves and limits your ability to turn around and look for one another. We stay reasonably close together to be able to see and hear the other. Waves often run sideways at us. The wind and waves sound loudly, and our voices don’t carry far. I am glad that we planned the crossing and have kayaked together enough to know the other’s ability, limitations and needs. Thirty minutes into the crossing we find ourselves in tune with the rocking waves, the paddle controlled by us, steadily moving us closer to the destination stroke by stroke. In these waves, the mind reaches a meditative state; I feel one with the ocean. There is something special about moving along on the water in a small vessel while being so close to the water surface, occasionally touching it.
Suddenly, I hear the sounds of large objects hitting the water surface through the wind. Sure enough, humpback whales are out on the passage. I shout “Fred, Whales. Let’s raft up and watch.” “No, let’s keep moving.” A little disappointed by the sensible husband, I must agree… it is best we carry on the crossing. Sometimes we have to choose wisely and give up on immediate gratification for a bigger outcome… we intend to catch the ferry home tonight. Rafting would delay us. Occasionally the whales surface at a distance. We keep extra space in these unsteady waters. Humpback whales in particular can be unaware of boats including kayaks.
As we reach the destination shore side, waves become smaller and winds settle. After a brief stretch of our legs and freshening up, we unload the boats, dry out the tent in sun and a light breeze, pack the car and load the kayaks. During the way home on a bumpy logging road, a stop for grocery shopping and a two-hour ferry ride, we exchange experiences and reflect on the past days. We plan to return to this special area soon.
If you like to join us this year for a five-day sea kayaking expedition in the Deer Group or Saturna Island, let us know so we can make arrangements before our summer schedule fills up.
Ruth and her husband Fred teach sea kayaking courses for various skill levels on Saturna Island and the Deer Group Islands. Level 2 courses take on expedition style for five days with overnight camping, conducted at the Deer Group Islands or the Southern Gulf Islands. The programs include theory and practical skills that are relevant for safe sea kayaking adventures. Call if you like to learn sea kayaking, enhance your skills or join a paddling adventure.
