Sidney Harbour

Today we headed out to Sidney to putter around the Harbour. This was our first trip out this way, and the weather was great, easily the nicest day we've had so far this year.


Paula moves ahead in the kayak sweepstakes. Now she owns three. Her latest is this small inflatable. She wanted something that she could transport around easily on her tricycle or even the bus, and this little guy certainly foots the bill.
(But she's a little embarrassed about how much she's spent on kayak stuff recently, so don't tell her folks. It'll be our little secret.)


While Paula took a quick bathroom break before we started, Bernie took it out for a little spin. (He was a little embarrassed that he took out Paula's new kayak before she officially christened it, so don't tell her. It'll be our little secret.)


Mr. Kayakhead, Canada's only inflatable crimefighter!


So here's Paula, smiling and finally in the water in her new kayak. She's paddling in front of the world's largest block of Neapolitan ice cream. (Bernie had already gone through and had eaten all the chocolate.)


We weren't the only boats on the water!


No eagles today, but a cormorant found us slightly interesting.


Here's Bernie in Paula's second boat. He's smiling, too!


Dennis was also in a smiling mood!


Louise is smiling, too! You'd think we were all having fun or something!


Alison's smiling because she's back from vacation and isn't lending her boat to amateurs like the rest of us anymore. :)


Many readers have asked how we transport our kayaks around. (Actually, none have. But we can dream.) Anyway, here's me loading two kayaks on my van.


Dennis and Bernie are in deep discussion about something to do with length and depth perception.


John's pictures are here.

16 March 2006

Man, what a gorgeous afternoon! The sky cleared off over Victoria, and the morning drizzle had faded away into pure sunshine. I suddenly realized that I had to get out on the water, so I piled into the truck and headed out to Telegraph Cove.


Deceptively pretty, isn't it?

There was a slight breeze blowing northward, so I thought Telegraph would be perfect; facing north, it would be sheltered from any chop if the breeze was blowing stronger at the beach than inland. And it's true, it was sheltered. I wasn't the only person there; a younger fellow was getting out of his truck as I arrived, and pulled on his wetsuit and hauled a baited crab trap out of the back. He didn't bother with no stinkin' boat—he had a surfboard and he knew how to use it. After all, he wasn't going all that far off shore—a 15 or 20 metres.

Coming back in....

I unloaded and quickly made it into the water—it took longer, I think, to put my sprayskirt on than it did to unload. Finally I headed off into the cove and then out into the deeper water.

But not for bloody long! The tide was on the flood and there was a low pressure zone somewhere south of me. So there were some fairly heavy swells once I got out from the protection of the cove. A bit scary at first, but I soon spun around and headed into them, and started having a great time. Been a while since I paddled anything a half-metre high—too much bathtubbing this winter—so it took a bit to feel at all comfortable. But soon I was headed almost due west out of Telegraph Cove and then spun to take advantage of the swells to do a little surfing.

The swells weren't quite high enough to get up any real speed, so once I found myself a bit too near shore again, I turned about and headed a bit further out from shore and back to the west. As I passed back across the mouth of the cove, the swells started to pick up a bit, and as I continued out and west, they began to significantly increase in size. Now about 125 metres offshore, the swells were becoming serious; check out the pictures. They were over a metre high and the surfing was great. I swept back into the cove and turned around. Took what, two minutes?, and I was suddenly seasick. Coffee isn't a sufficient lunch, I guess.

In total, I wasn't on the water more than 40 minutes before becoming so queasy that I had to land. Damn shame, really. There was some real fun to be had—if only my stomach had co-operated!

Doubtful Sound

Getting the scale of things ...

Ferns, and a lone tree still standing
The sun actually did come out

On the left, these are trees growing almost horizontally off the slope
Milford Sound again
"I wuz 'ere" (Bowen Falls)

Photos from Down Under - 1

Here's a handful of the digital pix I took in Milford Sound, on the second of my kayaking trips. Doubtful Sound photographs and more Milford Sound are forthcoming: I just have to get them scanned in, uploaded, and processed, since they're from a waterproof disposable, and the quality was variable.




Bowen Falls, one of the permanent waterfalls in Milford Sound ... According to the guide, three times the height of Niagra Falls.

Baptism

We picked up Paula's new kayak Friday, and baptized it Saturday in Cadboro Bay. It is so cool to be able to decide to go paddling and to be in the water less than 20 minutes later—that alone makes Caddy Bay a big part of our lives.

Paula bought an Old Town Adventure XL 125, a fairly sharp looking boat. It has a sharp bow and does tend to keep much of the spray off her face—unlike the Wilderness Systems Pamlico 100 that is now mine. It is rotomolded plastic—well, Old Town raves about it being a patented “polylink 3”, but it is still a plastic boat—but it has forward and rear watertight compartments and a rudder, making it a boat suitable for overnight trips and extended touring. The price was so good that she bought it without even a test paddle [Paula adds: I insist that we paddled one very like it last summer at Elk Lake during a boat trial!], but from the configuration, it should be similar to the Pamlico in stability. It comes in right around the fifty pound mark, so Paula will be able to lift it on her own if need be. But until the need arises, it looks like I'll be the one humping it about.

We are still waiting for delivery of the skirt—the one in stock was a “wide” and we need the “not-wide” version—but it should be in soon. The wide version had been stuffed in the cockpit of the Adventure in case it was the only one available, and when we walked out of the showroom, it was still in the cockpit. Had I not really liked the people at Pacifica Paddlesports, we'd have a really really inexpensive skirt on the boat right now. But I noticed it and handed it back—what can I say?

We got the boat in the water Saturday morning—having been in a bit of a hurry, I didn't take the camera, so there are no pictures. We paddled out to Flower Island and back, Paula getting a feel for the boat. And yes, she does like it. It is difficult fitting her thighs under the coaming—something you need to be able to do to control the boat. Lifting a knee causes the boat to turn, and in combination with some aggressive paddle work, you can carve some pretty nice turns. But the Adventure seems to be a lot shallower than at first glance—until you have a look at the seat. The seat seems to be a “recreational” seat, meaning that it is built for comfort and infrequent paddling. Overall, it is far too high off the bottom of the boat, raising even Paula's centre of gravity up quite a bit—something which affects the righting moment of the boat. With the centre of gravity raised with an overly thick seat, as the boat heels to one side the point at which it capsizes arrives much quicker. I proved this to my own satisfaction when I got a turn in the cockpit of the boat; I liked the way it felt, and tried some progressively more aggressive turns—culminating with suddenly finding myself in the late winter ocean. [Paula adds: A woman chatting with me on the beach suddenly said: “Oh! Did he mean to do that?” “Probably,” I told her.] The Adventure does have pretty high initial stability—it takes quite a tip before you are ready to capsize—but it is definitely not helped by this seat. Also, the back of the seat reaches as high as Paula's shoulder blades but provides little lumbar support. So this seat will be replaced—probably by a Necky touring seat.

The Saturday baptism was followed up with a Sunday morning extended paddle up the Gorge. We spent a good 2 ½ hours travelling from the Inner Harbour up to the Tillicum Bridge and back.

[Paula adds: I like the way the Adventure handles. It feels stable when I'm sitting still or paddling slowly on calm water – this is important because I have little or no sense of balance, with my half-deaf ears. When I'm paddling at speed or in slight chop I get a good sense of this boat's movement in the water from my muscles. Alison's kayak has a rounder bottom that makes feel a bit more like I'm sitting on a unicycle. The Adventure never felt tippy yesterday or today, even as I turned in the slight current under the bridge. I'm looking forward to taking it out when there's a little wind so the rudder will have a chance to do more than just steer the boat in calm water.

I liked the high bow and put it to use pushing Heather's inflatable life raft with surprising ease. The bow rides up over small chop and the high, rounded deck makes waves split to either side instead of splashing up into my face. Even without a skirt, I had only a few drops of water fall inside the coaming. Once we get a skirt, I'm going to be a little more daring this summer and learn to handle waves and chop bigger than a foot high! But first, I'm going to practise tipping it over and doing wet exits (and maybe trying a roll for the first time in twenty-five years). And I'll put some pipe insulation under the coaming where my knees will press.]

Friday 10 March 2006

It was a hell of a Friday. We started the day with a trip to Pacifica Paddlesports, where after Paula picked up some new gear—a couple of stuff sacks and a weather radio mainly—we finally loaded up her new kayak. The Old Town Adventure XL 12.5 is a real beauty. It is rotomolded plastic—well, Old Town raves about it being a patented “polylink 3”, but it is still a plastic boat—but it has forward and rear watertight compartments and a rudder, making it a boat suitable for overnight trips and extended touring. The price was so good that she bought it without even a test paddle, but from the configuration, it should be similar to the Pamlico 100 in stability. It comes in right around the fifty pound mark, so Paula will be able to lift it on her own if need be. But until the need arises, it looks like I'll be the one humping it about.

The neoprene skirt wasn't in stock, so it should be arriv ing sometime this coming week, leaving only the problem of a new paddle to be taken care of. But with Ocean River holding their spring gear up sale March 18 and 19, we will take care of that problem soon as well. This will give us four paddles for two boats—the bare minimum as far as we're concerned. With Alison's boat and equipment the past couple of weeks (while she's been paddling rental boats in New Zealand), we've been quite comfortable with two paddles for each boat. And with the low key nature of the paddle group, two extra paddles for the group has seemed to be sufficient.

There is also a plan to buy an Advanced Elements nine-foot inflatable in the next week or so—thank goodness for money in the mail!--and a new PFD. Then the accumulation of more safety gear like another pump and throw line. Paula's current intention is to haul the inflatable to Mississauga and paddle it through the Toronto Islands just off the CN Tower.

We've also acquired a full skirt for the Pam (a Seal nylon skirt from Mountain Equipment Co-op) and it is pretty much fully kitted out. This includes a drybag with both first aid equipment and spare clothes after John's experience in inversion a couple of weeks back (see his posting below for details). As John commented last weekend; “Sure, one dump and all of a sudden everybody's got a drybag!”

The afternoon continued with me going shopping for gear—well, just a second drybag for the new boat, but still.... So Paula is also kitted out with spare clothes and a first aid kit.

And although I almost forgot, I managed to get down to Ocean River in time to attend the Reel Paddling Film Festival Friday evening. Talk about good value for the money--$10 got about two and a half hours of film, a magazine subscription (Rapid, Adventure Kayaking, or Family Camping and Canoeroots) and any profits are going to the Boy and Girls Club.

Six films were chosen for the evening from the 21 listed on the tour book. The choices were good ones; This is the Sea 2 (two parts—Skookumchuck and Greenland Paddling), Daily Planet: White Water Evolution, Across Asgaard, Kayaks on the Roof of the World, and Hypoxia 2.

The first film pretty much set the tone of the evening. This is the Sea 2: Skookumchuck was a group of people paddling sea touring kayaks in some of the crazier water this planet offers; the tidal race at Skookumchuck. Currents up to 15 knots and a bottom of massive rock pieces create a challenging environment for anything to survive in—let alone a paddler in a mid-size boat. Massive standing waves, water better suited to a river, and a group of paddlers showing off their amazing skills made for a memorable opening to the evening. Particularly the opening shot of the paddler's face as she approached and was maytagged in some crazy water—and came out with a massive grin on her face.

Daily Planet: White Water Evolution is exactly that, a clip from Daily Planet (the science news program on the Discovery network) showing some of the ways that white water kayaking has evolved over the last decade or two. People going really fast, people twisting through a slalom course, people falling over waterfalls, and (possibly strangest of all) people in boats that float just under the surface of the water and are used to corkscrew down into the water until the paddler is ten or fifteen feet down.

The first half ended with Across Asgaard, where Frank Wolf and Todd Macafie canoe across Norway, Sweden and end their trip 800 kilometres later in Finland, trying to retrace an ancient Viking trade route across Scandinavia. That they are even able to talk to each other at the end of trip is astonishing. But along the way, they talk to Saami people, at least one of whom is still a bit sore about Norse double taxation. Bloody Vikings....

Regretfully I didn't win the PFD during the intermission, but I did manage to get in to the bathroom—which was probably poorer odds than the door prize.

The first film after the break was This is the Sea 2: Greenland Paddling. This featured Doug VanDoren talking about and demonstrating classic Greenland paddling technique and rolls. His successful roll completion using a latex examination glove blown up while under water was a classic. But he really became my personal hero when he slowly stood up in his kayak and began to juggle. My new hero and my new goal, eh?

Kayaks on the Roof of the World was a pretty good whitewater doc. To quote the program:

In 2005, a group of kayakers travelled to the remote Parlung Tsangpo in eastern Tibet to attempt the first descent of the river. Two years earlier, expedition leader Chris Jones had decided to give something back to the area by training the first Tibetan kayakers. High altitudes and difficult whitewater challenge the expedition while a group of Tibetans put their two years of practice together and discover the joys and frustrations of river running.

While this crew does share what seems to be the standard view of all whitewater kayakers that “any river is ours to run—simply because we own kayaks,” Chris Jones does give the impression that something deep inside him is tied to Tibet, and because of this feeling he tries to give something back to the country and its people.

The overwhelming feeling one is left with after watching the evenings final film, Hypoxia 2, is that here is an excellent accidental documentary of whitewater cultural imperialism. Oh, this crew has attitude in spades; they don't respect local laws, customs, or feelings. “We are white, western, and sponsored. Get the fuck out of our way,” is really all the depth this lot are capable of. From running from the cops in Sweden, to running the Baktiari River in Iran just after the end of the siege of Fallujah, this crew has no idea why they are resented by the local population, shot at, and stolen from. Personally, I felt they deserved worse than what they got, but then that's just me. Although it was kind of nice to see Canada represented in the film, I won't be crushed if they never return. But they can be found at www.liveoncemedia.com

Helluva Friday.

Lower Gorge

Today's paddle was the lower Gorge.
Paula used her new kayak. What a proud mama.


We put in at Songhees where we did our harbour paddle a few weeks ago, but instead of heading south into the harbour, we turned north and went up the Gorge.
>

Somebody wipe that grin off Paula's face! :)


There was a couple of big slowpokes in our way. But they soon made way when they saw that there were kayakers closing in at ramming speed!


Bernie going under the Johnson Street Bridge.


Louise still thinks there might be hope for the rest of us.


Hey, this ain't a bad picture for pointing the camera over my shoulder and not aiming, eh?


A seal followed us the whole way down the Gorge. Finally he decided to say hello...


... and goodbye.


Nice house. I bet it's got at least three bathrooms.


And a good time was had by all!


John's pictures are here.

Luna -- September 19, 1999 - March 10, 2006

Luna the Killer whale has died.
Luna was just a whale being a whale. We were trespassing on its turf. But again nature has encountered man, nature has lost, and we are all the worse off for it.
Reunite Luna website

American Cetacean Society Luna Page

Fisheries and Oceans Backgrounder

05 March 06

Cole's Bay is a terrific spot for a quiet day of paddling. Sheltered and generally calm, the bay was clearly scoured out by glaciers during the last big freeze. The water is beautifully clear, and you can look for sea life on even a cloudy day--as this Sunday was.
We were watched both while launching and landing (look closely at the top of the dinghy).Louise took the early lead with a burst of speed that left the rest of us well behind. If you look closely, you can see her off in the distance at about two o'clock.

The paddling was easier when we were going downhill.Dennis' new inflatable handles the water very well...

...even while he plans his next raid on a seaside home . ;-) hhok!

Louise is certain she had some candy in her pocket when she left......while Paula just can't seem to photograph John's neoprene-clad butt enough!

All in all, a terrific paddle.

Coles Bay

Sunday dawned bright, sunny and warm.
Somewhere.
Not here.
But cool and cloudy works, so it was off to Coles Bay for a splash.
We arrived at Coles Bay Regional Park and discovered it was quite a hike from the parking lot to the beach along a steep trail. Nice for a walk... not so nice for carrying kayaks. Fortunately, Louise's brother lives right beside the park, and his backyard goes right down to the beach. So after a slight delay, we launched.

I took Alison's 12 ft fiberglass Kestral this week, a far cry from my plastic 11 ft Dagger. I was a little wobbly at first, sort of like trying to ride your bike without training wheels for the first time. But after about half in hour, I had gotten used to it and it was a sweet ride!

Coles Bay is on the eastern side of the Saanich Penninsula, north of Brentwood Bay. We headed south. It was a dark, cloudy day. Here, Bernie removed his hat to allow extra forehead glare to light our way.


Dennis chugged along in his inflatable. ("His wife" as he refers to it. We are somewhat disgusted yet strangely interested in his choice of nickname.)


A fun day!

John's pictures are here.

Report from Down Under

Days spent in NZ: 9
Days spent kayaking: 3
Kayak trips blown out: 2
Number of sandfly bites: 40+ (about 20 on my hands, since the bug lotion kept washing off)
Photographs taken: in the region of 100

I spent the first 3 days with family in Auckland. On the Thursday I signed up for an evening trip from Auckland to Rangitoto, which is a 600-year old island created by a volcanic eruption, but the wind came up and the trip was cancelled. Friday I flew to Queenstown, and took a bus to Te Anau. Saturday and Sunday I took an overnight trip into Doubtful Sound in Fiordland. This consisted of a 6 am start, van to Manapouri, launch across Manapouri Lake, a huge lake greatly expanded by the construction of a hydro dam in the sixties, then van up over the pass, and down into the sound.

This is fiord country, and rainforest - 8 m or so rain a year, and a daily record of 50 cm [corrected] - and stunning is hardly the word for it. Because it is so wet, because the rain streams constantly down the slopes, moss, lichen and ferns grow almost to the vertical, infiltrating the rock; the mat can be a meter thick, thick enough to root trees, so the trees grow up slopes so steep they almost appear to be growing parallel to the slopes - when not jutting out at wild angles. As a result, Fiordland is prone to tree avalanches - a high wind, an earthquake, or simply age and time can cause a tree or trees to lose their grip and fall, and because the roots are interlocked and embedded in the moss, the entire mat and forest comes away, stripping a wide triangular blaze down the rock and leaving it bare, to be gradually recolonized over decades by moss, ferns, and then the trees. The landscape is classic glaciated valley, steep, steep sides, the scale not appreciated until you see a group of kayaks at the base of one of those slopes looking like painted slivers of wood - the peaks around are in the 1500 m to 2000 m range. There are multiple long, long waterfalls, which look like white threads down the slopes.

We loaded all the gear (which we had loaded and off-loaded at each transfer) onto four double kayaks, with the guide in a single, and headed out from a spot called Deep Cove towards the sea. Weather was a little windy, misty, rainy, sun the occasional watery glimpse, though we were seeing the peaks around us. We paddled about 6 hours the first day, allowing for stops, and my winter of sheltered flat-water kayaking had not prepared me for it. My arms began to complain within 15 minutes, and after a couple of hours I managed to shift the complain to the muscles where it belonged and stop fighting the water every stroke. We campled overnight in a basic camp in the rainforest, consisting of a permanent mesh tent on a platform for a cooking/recreation area, a series of linked gravel areas linked by a winding and very narrow path which led to the composting toilet, enthroned a story above the forest. We were only supposed to use that for solid waste and the forest otherwise - I have bites in places not normally exposed to the air! I haven't camped since tents were put together with a ridge-pole and supports, and I was short enough to stand upright in a tent. But I survived a largely sleepless night of wondering "what's that???" at each rustle, and because I was blundering around in the early hours with a torch, I glimpsed a kiwi scuttling around the mesh tent.

The next day we struck camp early because there were strong south westerly winds forecast, and although Doubtful sound is very long and we were well inland, we did not know how that would funnel. We paddled out of the side arm where we had spent the night, and turned up towards the sea, intending to go around a long island in the middle of the fiord, but as we beached for a bio-break, we saw the first darkening of the water up the sound, and we paddled out into a squall, about 15 knots. Quite enough for yours truly, who couldn't remember which side to apply a low brace on - fortunately it was needed. But as the seas got heavy, we rafted up, boats banging against each other, sorted out the steering - to stay with the wind and swell behind us, we needed to ply rudders, and raised sail, and cruised down the fiord towards the embarcation point on the wind and swell. After several hundred meters the sail expired and flopped across us, and we reeled it in, and kept paddling. Between the wind, the slow swell behind us, and the early start, we were in before 1 pm, although we were not caught by any more squalls, only drizzle that socked in the fiord between us. Then we off-loaded, re-stored the boats, loaded up the van and headed to the vantage over the outflow from the dam (two tunnels, draining into Doubtful Sound) and likely perturbing the ecosystem.

The ecosystem of the fiords is an interesting one, and it was the undersea aspect that originally got me interested in the area: the copious rainfall leaches substantial quanties of tannin and other products of vegetable decomposition into the fiords. The water is very deep and very dark, but even at the edges with pale rock underneath, it's the colour of weak tea, a dark brown. So this shades the depths, and there are sponges and corals in the fiords that grow at 40 m or less below the surface that elsewhere grow at 200 m down, under the standard photic zone.

On the Monday I was supposed to go to Milford sound, but when I dragged myself out of bed at 6:30 am I felt so trashed I phoned and cancelled, went back to bed and slept until 11 am. As it turned out, it bucketed all day, there was a 25 knot wind in the fiord, and all kayaking trips were cancelled. I couldn't rebook with the same group I went out with (all spots full), but there was another company, so I booked with them for Tuesday. Milford sound is the best known of the sounds because there's a tarmac'd road from Te Anau into the Sound, 2 h spectacular driving along the shores of Lake Te Anau (glacier lake about 60 km long), then up through beech (not your northern beach) forest, through the Homer Tunnel (site of the Homer Nude Tunnel Race), and down - and I do mean down! - into the valley. Completely different weather - whatever front had come through had blown itself out - and we had brilliant sunshine all day. The morning had been cold, and I didn't add much to my crop of sandfly bites, but I washed all the sunscreen off the backs of my fingers, so I've added scorched fingers to my plaints. Hardly any wind: the disturbance on the water was the wake of multiple tour launches, giving us the occasional half or so meter swell to ride. This time I was NOT the oldest person in the group, and my paddling was much better. Clear sight of the mountains, which are slightly drier and less moss-coated than Doubtful, but still steeply treed, and since it had been so wet the previous day, there were multiple waterfalls threading their way down from the heights.

And we saw dolphins. We'd were crossing at our midway point when we spotted the fins and soundings, and began paddling after them. They changed direction and charged past us, between us, on their way to meet up with a large launch behind us - we held no interest for them at all. Alas I was too busy watching the dolphins to press the shutter as two of them bore down on my kayak and surfaced almost within touching distance, and it was all over very fast. They intersected the lanch and were carried off with it, several of them literally riding its bow-wave. They're bottlenose dolphins. We didn't see the dolphins in Doubtful sound, which are supposed to be a distinct pod that only live within Doubtful sound - I have to look up the genetics.

We also saw juvenile fur seals, young batchelors kicked out of the herd to make their own way; a pair of moulting Fiordland crested penguins; a white gull of some kind which had obviously discovered kayakers as a source of food, hopped out of the water to perch on our kayaks; paradise ducks, with pure white head and red tail.

We pulled out at the start point after about 4 hours, and headed back to Te Anau at a very leisurely pace, stopping at multiple scenic points; got back to Te Anau just before 6 pm. I dithered, and then trotted along to go standby to see the Te Anau Gloworm Caves, which is a topic for another post, as I shudder to think how much I owe the Internet Cafe now (I started out to check my email, really ... and if Blogger doesn't save this, I will cry!)

Yesterday, in the pouring rain, I caught the 8 am bus from Te Anau to Dunedin, and here I am in Dunedin, with gale force winds forecast for later today. I didn't move very fast this morning, and so I missed the calm, if there was calm - I looked into kayaking out around the Otago penninsula this afternoon, but no go - too windy. Now I have to work out what to do for the rest of the day! Tomorrow morning I have an even earlier start, for a flight up to Blenheim at the north end, where I hope, if the weather cooperates, I will get out on the Malborough Sounds and along the coast of Abel Tasman park.

And even at this length, this is still an abbreviated report.