Broughton Archipelago Expedition

 Greetings. 

This summer I was meant to be canoe guiding in Algonquin. But since my boss ghosted me, we had to come up with a backup plan to not let our hard-earned summer holiday go to waste. We called it "Operation S.O.S." (Save Our Summer) and it has been our obsession with sea kayaking. The culmination of all our efforts and expenses was a 2-week expedition from Telegraph Cove, through the Broughton Archipelago up to Grappler and MacKenzie Sounds, and back, with a few days to mess about in the Johnstone Strait. Nothing could ruin our epic trip, not even 2 crazy lunatics...

The crew comprised of 4 people: me, Ramata, our friend and his girlfriend. We started with a huge shopping trip for 2 weeks' worth of food (not easy!) and some other last-minute supplies that we needed. Early in the morning we drove up to Comox Valley Kayaks so our friends could pick up their rentals, two epic Nimbus Telkwa Sports (one of the fastest and most fun touring kayaks available).  A notable sighting was a Black Swift which flew over the highway. We put our friends' Telkwa Sports to the test with an afternoon lesson in McCreight Lake off Rock Bay Road. This was an important lesson on key paddling techniques for maneuvering these 18 1/2 foot long boats which is critical for a safe trip. Equally important was to practice re-entry techniques and to determine each person's preferred technique should their be an unplanned capsize during the trip. I had mixed feelings about that lesson and how seriously our friends took it (one much more so than the other). But at least they were each able to do a successful re-entry so that was the important bit. However, a squabble over who left a water pump in the car was a bad omen for days to come. 

We arrived at Telegraph Cove brimming with excitement to get out on the water. It was not so straightforward. Our friends took 3 hours and 45 minutes to launch their kayaks while we helplessly looked on. Their car was parked on the boat launch for 1 hour, despite my reminding them that there is a 5-minute unwritten rule about parking on the ramp. It was getting very awkward with 2 different boaters asking them to move and then the harbormaster coming down with her clipboard to re-route boat traffic because the ramp was completely out of commission. At last they finished "the ultimate tetris game" and we were off on the water. I though we were home free but our one friend kept having to adjust his fishing tackle and take cellphone pictures which cause to sit and wait. And we waited. By the time he caught up, I had had to clip my fingernails twice and shave my beard. 

Since the weather was nice we decided to go ahead and cross the Johnstone Strait, so we wouldn't have to do it during less favourable conditions. The waters between us and crazy Cracroft Point looked calmer than ever so we went for it as well. We had a really cool sighting of a pod of 8 or so Orcas at a reasonable distance in the afternoon sun. We watched a feeding frenzy of Dall's Porpoises, Rhinoceros Auklets and Marbled Murrelets off Cracroft Point. Everybody was very happy. 

A pod of about 8 Orcas off of Cracroft Point. The rips that this area is famous for were just starting to form so we were keen to leave the area straight after the sighting

Harbor Porpoise off Sophia Islet

We camped at Sophia Islet at a spot just suitable enough for 2 tents but strategically situated right across from Robson Bight, the sanctuary for Orcas. We would stay here for 2 nights to ease into the trip. We danced to music on our remote island and went to sleep, excited to look for more Orcas in the morning. 

The camp at Sophia Islet

At 8:30am I suggested a plan for the day: morning paddle at 9:30. All agreed. However, our friend just couldn't get himself organized and we didn't depart until about 10:30. Sitting in my kayak waiting for 1 hour annoyed me a lot so I mentioned as such but the response I got was very defensive and negative. Not good. Even more, our friends had been fighting the night before and continued well into the day. I My comment was being blamed for triggering this huge fight. If he could have stopped micromanaging her and let her pack her own kayak, maybe it could have sped things up. Ramata and I tried to mediate and resolve the situation, but it was of no use. This was a man incapable of self-reflection. What threw even more fuel into the fire was that she suddenly blurted out "AFTER THIS TRIP, WE'RE DONE!" Not a phrase anybody wants to start their day with! This was on day 2. Word to the wise: if you're gonna dump your boyfriend on a trip, maybe wait 'till the end of the trip to do it! So she decided to sit out the rest of the morning paddle, while us 3 continued toward Boat Bay, across from Robson Bight. We had a nice sighting of 2 Wandering Tattlers, a small Black Bear eating Salal berries and a distant sighting of about 8 Orcas with 3 passing somewhat close. After that, we had to wait again while our friend fiddled with his fishing rod and spent a good deal of time texting on his phone (why does there have to be reception here?). Back at camp the fighting escalated, so much so that Ramata and I agreed that we would have to kick our friends off the trip. It was really something I didn't want to do because of all the expense and time they took off to come out here, but it just didn't seem like they were going to stop fighting and spoiling the trip. Ramata informed them that if the couldn't sort things out, we would be escorting them back to the harbour in the morning. Our only mistake was not following through with this threat the next day. 

Harbor Seal

Wandering Tattlers, 2 of the 4 seen on the trip

Black bear spotted near Boat Bay

Later that evening and the next morning they were back to banter and getting along, so we figured they were ready to continue the trip. It looked like they had patched things up. We paddled up to Whitebeach Passage which just on the edge of Blackfish Sound, a pretty good area for both Orcas and Humpback Whales. Our friends caught a Pink Salmon and Rock Fish in the evening which was pretty exciting and we had a nice feast of pan-fried fish over the fire. It looked like things were back to normal and we were all having a good time. In the morning, Ramata and I said we were going for a morning paddle at 6:30 am "be there or be square." We paddled to Cracroft Point and back, seeing a couple of Humpbacks feeding in the area. I wanted to spend more time in the middle of Blackfish Sound but Ramata was tired so she waited near the shore for me. I watched a humpback surfacing here and there, seeing its telltale water spout, followed by the arched back and tiny dorsal fin behind the hump, doing this 4-5 times and then lifting the tail up in the air, indicating a deep dive. Then about 10-20 minutes of waiting before it popped up somewhere else (you never know where). When I was satisfied, I decided to turn back, but not before I had retrieved a yellow child's beach ball floating in the middle of the sound. As I reached out the grab it, "WHOOOOSH!" A Humpback Whale surfaced right in front of me and he was headed directly at me! I grabbed the bouncy ball anyway, and it surfaced again, still headed toward me but much closer. With 4 swift strokes of my paddle, I maneuvered out of his way of the 30-ton beast and he cruised past me like a train going by the platform. There were about 1 1/2 kayak lengths between us! My heart was really racing! I paddled back to Ramata to tell her of what just happened. 

Dall's Porpoise, a common sight throughout the trip but difficult to photograph

A humpback feeding near Parson Bay

Ramata getting annoyed about us lingering too long near the sketchy areas

Paddling in Blackfish Sound

One of the many barges that passes through Blackfish Sound. You need to be very careful not to get in their way, as they will not be able to stop! At least they are slow and predictable. This year there were practically no ferries or cruise ships, fortunately for us

At last our friends finished packing up their stuff and we were headed north for the Fox Group of islands. Our friend kept wanting to stop at various marinas to drop off recycling and buy booze (I guess?). Fortunately for me, the First Nations village we passed was on lockdown, enabling our journey to continue uninterrupted. It is very difficult to secure prime campsites when you are the last party to arrive. 

A navigational error on my part sent Ramata and our one friend paddling ahead in the wrong direction. We tried getting their attention with the whistles but apparently they couldn't here us. Too bad I didn't have the wherewithal to use my fog horn which would have definitely done the trick. They were annoyed that I hadn't caught up with them to tell them about the turnoff. Fair enough. Fortunately the camp spot could accommodate us with 2 nice tent spots remaining. 

Bald Eagle at Fox Group of islands

The next day we needed to paddle up to Burdwood Group of islands, a highly sought-after camp spot. Having one friend who takes 3 hours to pack his kayak and another who is an extremely slow paddler was a recipe for frustration. While waiting for them, I witnessed Charles Lyell's geological weathering first hand. Mountains eroded, canyons deepened, the continents drifted just a little further apart. I contemplated the second coming of Christ. I was worried that Ramata would reach menopause by the time they caught up with us. I regretted not putting money into a mutual fund before I'd left. 

The 3.5 km 'scenic detour' that I'd dumbly convinced everybody to agree on really backfired when our one friend found out that there was a resort where should could call her son. Of course if I had received this special request I would not have taken us on the detour as we would have directly passed the resort. By now I was starting to get irritated because a large group of paddlers was closing distance from behind, and I was certain they intended to overtake us and snatch our coveted camp spot. I said you can go there but Ramata and I won't be coming, because otherwise we won't get our site and we'll be paddling around in the evening looking for sites until late in the evening. So Ramata and I got the site (just in the nick of time), while our friends headed to Echo Bay Marina for the phone call. I agreed to paddle there to meet them once I'd set up camp. Turns out they decided to take a room there because it would be more comfortable. I did not mind being in the camp with just me, Ramata and a few new friends. 

An unintentional dead-end led us into a tiny bay full of Western and Least Sandpipers. This one is a Western. 

Least Sandpiper

Burdwood Group of islands

A nice clamshell beach welcomed us at the main camp in the Burdwoods

We agreed to meet them at 8:30 am at our site but needless to say we were in no rush, debating how late they would be. I said 1 hour but Ramata predicted 2. They were about 75 minutes late in the end, but at least it was 9:45am, probably our earliest departure of the trip. They did apologize and they were visibly refreshed which bode well for the day's long paddle. The 35 km paddle needed to reach Grappler Sound took ages, but it was an enjoyable one. It want smoothly until Friend A removed his lifejacket. I gave up on trying to get him to wear it. We saw several White-sided Dolphins porpoising out of the water and I had a nice swim in Sutlej Channel (the water is pleasantly warm at he BC mainland!). As I was finishing my swim, the others spotted a fat Black Bear, but I missed it by seconds. Shortly after, we found another one which was quite confiding. The 2 wanted to stop at Sullivan Bay Marina to pick up 'supplies' (booze). The sassy shopkeeper Melissa could already sense something was wrong with our friend and his manners. "I know your type!" She did not seem impressed by the way he sprawled his things all over the dock and walked around with his cheeks hanging out like he owned the place. Once fully stocked, we finished the last leg of the paddle, passing MacKenzie Sound and its striking backdrop of mountains in a beautiful evening glow, 'serenated' by Red-throated Loons in breeding plumage (if you are familiar with their sound, you will know that I use the verb sarcastically - it is a truly horrific sound!). 

Leaving the Burdwood Group

Passing through Penphrase Passage which takes you along the mainland coast

We came across 2 black bears on the north shore of Sutlej Channel, which is the BC mainland. I missed the other one as I was taking a swim. 

Red-throated Loon with young, not a breeding species I expected to find this far south! They were common around Grappler Sound. 

The serene scenery in Grapper Sound was in stark contrast to the explosion of drama and verbal abuse taking place in the background

Another view of Grappler Sound, from Watson Point looking south

That evening was when the trip reached an unfortunate breaking point and I partly blame myself for allowing it to last until then. Both our friends hit the booze straight after landing before Friend A intensified an ongoing tirade of verbal abuse toward Friend B. I looked at Ramata and we both knew the trip as a group was effectively over. As the alcohol flowed, the verbal abuse worsened. I informed my friends that we would be escorting them both back to the nearest harbor in the morning, so that they could arrange a water taxi to get themselves back to Telegraph Cove, without us. Friend A got more belligerent and directed more verbal abuse toward me and Ramata, such vile things I cannot repeat here. When it turned to making threats and harassing Friend B while she tried to sleep in our tent, I told him I would call the coast guard if he did not go to his tent immediately. I counted from 10, but he did not move, instead stumbling on top of the tent with the occupants inside. I couldn't reach the coast guard. Finally friend A tired himself out and I was able to see him to his tent. I spend about half an hour cleaning up food that was scattered about the camp and securing the bear caches, then I sat by the fire until 1 am to make sure everything had cooled down. In the morning, Ramata and I paddled around Watson Island from 7am to 10am, enjoying some epic scenery along the BC mainland and spotting 2 Black Bears, once of which was a monster male and the other a pregnant female. We did not want our precious little time in this remote area to go to waste. 

A monster Black Bear on the opposite side of Watson Island, escorted by a Northwestern Crow

Nearby on the BC mainland, we found this much smaller pregnant female

Upon return, Friend A had just woken up and launched right back into verbally abusing the other 3 members of the group. I called a PanPan for some help and the coast guard came to help us sort out our situation. They were really nice and agreed that there was no possibility of us continuing the trip together. We wanted to escort him to the nearest marina to arrange transport from there but he refused to cooperate with us. However, they could not force Friend A to do anything, and if he wanted to go it alone in the wilderness then they had not authority to stop him. So they said the best thing we could do was provide him with the necessary supplies to paddle himself back alone. And that is what we did (I regret I forgot to give him rope - that was an oversight. At least he had the 30 ft. rescue rope to work with). The coast guard assured me that it was his choice and that I would not be legally liable if anything happened to him down the road. "I hope I die out here and you'll have that on your conscience for the rest of your life!" were the last words I heard from my former friend. I wanted to yell back "wear your damn lifejacket!" but that would have been unwise. So yes you read this correctly, we left our friend to his own devices a minimum 3 days' paddle from Telegraph Cove. But we didn't take that decision lightly. We really did try to escort him to the next marina but there really was no way of reasoning with him; every time we tried we would just keep yelling insults at us and argue in circles for hours, repeating over and over again that it was 'Friend B's fault. 

Friend B came enough to her senses to paddle back with us to Sullivan Bay Marina where we asked about a water taxi for her. Too bad it would set her back about $700. So we said "nobody can afford that, just come with us." Fortunately we had an extra sleeping bag on hand and plenty of extra food. It took us 4 days to paddle back to Telegraph Cove. By the time we left Sullivan Bay Marina it was already 13:30 and we still had to do another good 15 km at least to the Polkinghorne Islands. It was a long and extremely slow paddle through Wells Passage but we made it before sunset. When we pulled up to the camp spot, my spirits were lifted when a group of bearded men handed me a can of beer in each hand. I summarized our ill-fated story to their amazement and they felt bad for us but I said "it's all good now and we're gonna keep enjoying ourselves." Whilst finishing my 2 beers with the bearded men, it got dark and the tide had cut me off from the rock my tent was on. I suddenly had the bright idea of standing up in my kayak and cruising in 'gondola style'. That was the only capsize of the trip! Ramata was shining the torch light while I swam underwater to fetch my objects from the bottom. In the morning, were were set to paddle to Crib Island, when a water taxi pulled up. The captain offered to take our friend back for $175, a pretty good price. But we told her not to feel obligated, she was totally welcome to finish the paddle with us as had been our plan. She decided to keep going with us, despite the physical challenge. Besides, we already had the hardest of the 4 days behind us. We all though it was the right thing to do. 

The navigation to Crib Island became tricky because we ran off the edge of our marine chart, and we had no map or chart for the rest of the areas - we had given our only map to Friend A. My marine GPS had gotten salt water inside somehow. After only a minor detour we found the camp and I set up the most epic tarp job I've ever done. It was a fortress to withstand the heavy rain that would last through the evening and night. That was a nice spot. 

With just the three of us, we had a decent rhythm going. Yes, our friend was an extremely slow paddler but at least now we were breaking camp much earlier in the morning so we were managing to arrive at the next camp at a reasonable hour in the afternoon. We were approaching White Cliff Islets, a famous camp spot I'd been wanting to visit for a long time. We paddled through a dense and eerie fog where the horizon completely disappeared at times. The sound of a Humpback Whale's blowhole penetrated the fog throughout the morning. When the fog was at its densest, it got so spooky that I was radioing "Securite", informing vessels in the area that we were paddling through the fog, and breaking in my new fog horn (an essential piece of equipment that I bought on our last-minute shopping trip!). Suddenly, a beautiful form appeared from the fog - like an enchanting fairy. It looked like a giant silver barn swallow. It was a Fork-tailed Storm Petrel! 

We found some surfbirds and black turnstones on one of the Sedge Islands

Landing at White Cliff Islets was a logistical feat, but once there, we got the choice pick of campsites as everybody else was leaving! I think that was my favourite camp spot ever (if you exclude East Africa). We set up camp very early in the day and got to enjoy the whole afternoon and evening watching the sunset, socializing around the campfire with an off-duty guide called Jonathan, going for a swim with a male Steller's Sea Lion (not on purpose - it sent me screaming and swimming frantically for shore!), unburdening my friend of some of her wine and being blown away by a magnificent Minke Whale which swam right by the island in perfect light. But a distant event cast a shadow over our perfect day - our friend received news of a family tragedy. We would have to get her back to the harbour before noon the next morning, so we set our alarms for 5 am. We would have to launch during low tide, so this was going to be the most logistically complicated kayak launch we'd ever done. 

The Minke Whale actually stuck half his head out of the water, unlike the Humpback Whales. It was pretty weird! 

White Cliff Islets is a pretty spectacular spot in the evening, especially when you throw in Minke Whales, Steller's Sea Lions and Fork-tailed Storm-Petrels to the scenery

We got up at 5:30 and it was 8:30 by the time we launched, working non-stop. there was only a 2 square-foot patch of barnacles for one person to stand on at a time, so we passed the gear down the rocks in a train and loaded the kayaks one by one. It was another foggy morning so I had my foghorn out and we stayed close to shore as long as possible minimize crossing distance of from Swanson Island to Hanson Island (about 4 km across). This is a shipping lane with occasional large vessels and barges being towed by tugboats. I advised everybody that this would be the most dangerous segment of the trip and that we would have to stay as a tight group and not stop paddling the entire way. As we were resting up for the big crossing, we detected the sounds of whale spouts. At first we thought "a couple of humpbacks", but then there were more of them and from all directions. We still couldn't see them. Then a small dorsal fin appeared out of the mist - an Orca. Then a few more. It looked like a pod of about 10 of them. It looked like they had by-passed us, but then they yoyo'ed back, giving us decent views. What really surprised us was that they yoyo'd back again in the original direction, then changed course straight toward us! I though they were going to pass between us but instead, 6 of them broke off from the main group and decided for some reason to swim directly under my kayak! The big male brought up the rear, waiting until the last moment to dive underneath me. It was like a wall of black and white underneath me, and I could see their eyes. After visiting the mountain gorillas in the DRC,  this has to be my most intimate and heart-racing wildlife encounter of my entire life. (Note: it would not have happened if I had remembered to pack my GoPro). 

Wow...

Wooooow....

WOW! 

WHAAAAAA??!?!?!?!

They swam under me. 

Stoked by this amazing moment, our friend's muscles were re-invigorated with life's energy and we made relatively short work of the crossing. We made it to Weyton Passage just in time to take advantage of the turn of the tide, when the currents become almost nonexistent tending toward helpful. Johnathan the guide helped us to plan this out. We got the Telegraph Cove just before 11 am I think, which was really good. We said goodbye and congratulations to our friend for completing the whole loop with us and for never giving up, and helped her get her kayak strapped on the car. I squeezed in a cheeky shower and did laundry since we were there, and we grabbed some treats at the very overpriced Sally's Cafe (very good pastries!). Unfortunately, just as we paddled out of the harbour to continue our trip as a duo, our former friend who we had left behind crossed paths with us, sending us one last salvo of beratements. Understandably he was very upset about being abandoned by us, but from our point of view, he hadn't given us any other options despite us working very hard to figure something out. There was just no possibility of us paddling back together. We were relieved that he came back in one piece. 

Red-necked Phalaropes

We paddled a further 11km to Kaikash Creek Recreation Site, where we made some new friends who were on a tour with Water's Edge. They looked to be in very capable hands with their knowledgeable guide Josh who was very interesting to talk to. While we sat on the beach, we heard the distant "CRACK!" of a Humpback breaching, it sounded like dynamite. As the water glowed pale blue in the evening sun, Ramata shouted "Orcas!" and a pod of about 12 swam by the beach, to the amazement of all onlookers. I hope they remembered to tip their guide. 

About 12 orcas cruised past Kaikash Creek, viewed from the beach

We then spent 2 nights at Pig Ranch South Point with a day paddle in the hopes of spotting more Orcas near the Bight. We got pretty far, spotting a Black Bear (the 5th or 6th of the trip - it could have been the same one we'd seen on the 2nd day) and stopping at the then deserted Spirit of the West basecamp to enjoy lunch on one of their amazing viewing decks atop a cliff overlooking the Bight. The crystal clear waters off the cliff looked ideal for snorkeling, a note to bring my gear next time. There were no whales that day. 

I pushed my fire-making skills to the limit with an epic fire of rain-soaked driftwood then we broke camp on the second morning and made for Flower Island at a punctual time of 6:30 am. We were already setting up camp at this famous and highly sought-after camp spot by 8:30 am, whilst all the residents were still sleeping! There was only 1 tent pad when we got there but another became available by mid-day. We spent the day being lazy, sleeping out the rain and spending the nicer weather sitting on a grassy bluff. Our 12 days of paddling had caught up with us; we felt muscle aches in parts of our body that we had never experienced before. I went for a 2-hour paddle with 2 strangers to look at a pictograph on Berry Island. Nothing much eventful happened during our stay except when a huge Humpback Whale swam right in front of the grassy bluff we were sitting on, that was pretty cool! And some more surfbirds and black turnstones were quite confiding. 

Black Turnstones

Surfbirds

We were a little too slow to get going on the final morning, hitting Weyton Passage around 8:00, just as the opposing currents were starting to pick up, but hugging the shoreline of Hanson Island, we managed to make it without too many problems. We ran into our friends from the Water's Edge tour again, who told us we "really get around". Back at Telegraph Cove, we packed the car more efficiently than ever. We have become a synergistic team at sea kayaking. We were back in Victoria by a nice and early 17:30. 

What we learned from this trip is that we must be very exclusive about who we invite on expeditions from now on, especially when it comes to sea kayaking and we learned not to give people the benefit of the doubt regarding their relationship status, kayaking abilities or mental stability. Furthermore, when things start to go downhill early on in a trip, it's probably better to part ways before they get worse. We lost a good friend as a result of this trip. Ultimately I'm glad that everybody made it back safely.