Clandestino

I enjoy my work but lately things have been relentless. Six classes and countless additional duties have left my soul in dire need of a soothing remedy. I was summoned by the sea...

To self-medicate, I have been fixated on the procurement of a Telkwa Sport, the narrower, better tracking version of the Telkwa which I've been paddling since last spring. An expensive self-medication method...

I narrowly missed out on a fine specimen last month because our car broke down, but found out that Majestic in Ukluelet was having a fleet sale. I had found a suitable distraction. Not having the correct funds for this, I went entirely against the philosophy I'd stood for when teaching grade 9 financial literacy: buying a depreciating asset for my immediate gratification. I dipped into my line of credit. "Do as I say, not as I do" as the saying goes. Who says that, you might ask? You know, people say that...

I left work on Friday afternoon with an empty roof rack and the ambition to paddle all weekend. I camped at a clandestine roadside spot for my 8am appointment Saturday morning. Both boats were gorgeous. Was it vanity that I paid an extra $112 for the green one instead of red? Pure vanity, yes, but look at it, it is epic! It will be a head turner for sure. 

Having procured myself a map of the local area, I ventured out alone with a few supplies and my wits. 

Black Oystercatchers and Black Turnstones

Sea Otter

I encountered this solitary sea otter. He allowed me to glide past him, then curiously followed me for about 10 minutes. They are surprisingly fast for such stout fellas! Eventually he got bored with that and went back to his nap amidst the kelp. Crystal clear water, calm ocean swells lowering and gently raising you up as you glide over them. Look down, and marvel at hundreds of bright green anemones interspersed with bright orange sea stars. From a sea kayaker's perspective, this was a paradise of the gods. 

A maze of tiny islands, each more scenic than the last, gave way to an expansive bay bordered by sand beaches. There, I came upon two great beasts which were feeding. About every six minutes they would come up for 4 or 5 breaths, blowing a great column of water which produced a tiny rainbow in the afternoon sun. I laughed with wonder at this glorious sight! They were Gray Whales, laboriously building up their fat stores for their migration to Mexico. The smell of decomposing kelp, the salty spray and the fresh ocean breeze were a feast for the senses. Life is a sum of all the moments one experiences, the mundane, the painful, the shameful, the tedious...but true living, this is but a minute collection of fleeting moments in one's life, moments of glory that slip too easily from one's grasp. I was in the midst of one such rare moment and was determined to savour it to the last drop. I sought a clandestine campsite where I could retire, and be alone with my senses for the night. As I approached the beach in shallow water, my admiration of a flock of Surfbirds (in the correct habitat) was interrupted as a breaking wave cocked me sideways, spilling over my bow and nearly tipping over. Had I been in a lesser craft, it may have. 

2 Gray Whales were feeding in the area

The night was frigid and featured the dog-like breathing sound and distant howling of a wolf. Was it a dream or was it really a wolf? I will never know, but when I got up there was a set of wolf tracks in my camp. All my bags were coated in a thick layer of frost. I boiled some water for coffee (an addiction I've developed in recent years) to warm myself up and lazily began packing up camp, a difficult task when one's digits are completely numb with cold. The call of the sea motivated me to break camp. The Telkwa Sport pierced into the surf like a hot knife through butter. Truly this must be the finest touring kayak ever crafted. 

Paddling to the outer islands, I passed the pair of Gray Whales on my way as they fed close to shore. 

I came upon a Sea Otter with her large plump baby floating on the kelp forest. I did not notice them until I was quite close, and she appeared spooked, swimming away with surprising speed. I was content with the lousy photo I was able to get, not wanting to disturb her further. I stopped in a secluded cove to remove my thermal layer - I had become viciously sweaty beneath my drysuit from paddling. This surely seldom visited cove, facing the Pacific Ocean, was littered with plastic bottles and other junk that had washed up on shore, even a plastic buoy with Japanese markings on it. My temporary illusion of wilderness was interrupted by a bleak reminder of our over-populated Earth which we are abusing, casting our objects into the sea like our great garbage dump. I remedied the feeling of despair by filling a large black garbage bag with all the objects I could fit in it, then made use of the ample storage capacity of the Telkwa Sport to remove at least a tiny speck of this desecration from the sea. 

Rounding the small island, I spotted a solitary otter (this one much more skittish), a single Black Scoter and a couple White-winged Scoters among dozens of Surf Scoters, and 3 species of loons (Pacific, Common and Red-throated), a pair of both Marbled and Ancient Murrelets and a curious California Sea Lion. The wildlife had waylaid my journey. In order to get back before the currents turned against me, I would have to paddle at a strong and steady pace, counting my strokes to a hundred over and over again. Real moments of living do not come for free, they must be worked for. At last I could see Tofino around the bend, giving me motivation for the final push. I packed the car then drove to long beach where I made and devoured 3 well-earned PB&J sandwiches like a raging Glaucous-winged Gull and began the long drive back to Victoria, my acquisition proudly strapped to my roof rack with extra straps. 

Marbled Murrelets

Ancient Murrelet

California Sea Lion