The most pristine place I've ever visited: The Brooks Peninsula

I just got back from a 10-day trip to the Brooks Peninsula in late July and it is the most pristine wilderness I've ever visited. During this journey, by sea kayak, my friend Matas and I came to a profound realization: all this time, our default setting on backcountry trips has been on "half-assed". This trip brought our level to "full ass". It will be difficult to go back down a setting. 

How epic was the Brooks Peninsula? Imaging sitting on a pillar of rock as a wolf patrols the beach bellow, barely caring that you're there. Kayaking offshore with two humpbacks surfacing to your right, and another to your left. Taking in the sights, sounds and smells of Steller's Sea Lions and Alcids swarming the castle-like pinnacle of Solander Island a mile off the coast as the pacific swells carry you up and down at their whim. Sitting in your kayak, your only lifeline, surrounded by 80 Sooty Shearwaters, some almost touching your bow. Rafts of 80 or more Sea Otters. Watching Coho Salmon leap out of the water (and feasting on their flesh). Kayaking under a waterfall into a cave. That is but a cursory description of what Brooks Peninsula has to offer to the adventurous paddler. Here I will outline our trip as the events transpired day-by-day, with highlights, camping spots and mileage. Hopefully, I will also capture some of the emotions that stirred within our souls. 

Day 1: Drive to Artlish River boat launch

We had spent the day before making preparations by organizing the gear and constructing a wooden roof rack for Mata's jeep. I must say, we were quite proud of our handiwork! That would have cost at least $800 at Rack Attack. We used a combination of surfboard and kayak straps, ratchet straps, wood beams and screws to put it together. It is extremely solid! 

The jeep was necessary because the logging road was as bad as it is said to be. 

In the morning, we finished packing the gear and loading the kayaks (an arduous ordeal) and went shopping at Costco and Superstore for 10 days' worth of food (another arduous ordeal!). The drive up was not as long as Google Maps days it is (Google multiplies driving time on logging roads by 4x apparently). So it probably took us 7 hours if you include stops for swimming and gas. 

Just off Highway 19, we found an epic swimming hole at the bridge over the Nimkish River on Atluck Main. We made a note to return there on the way out! 

The Arthish River boat launch and campsite

Despite the morning's preparations dragging on, we made it comfortably before dark and prepared a feast of penne with tomato sauce, ground beef and cheese. The camp spot was gorgeous with just 1 other couple (kayakers). We had a nice chat with the fella who gave us some tips about the winds and a hefty warning about our ambition to visit Solander Island. During the night, we were serenated by a Western Screech Owl. 

Day 2: Paddle from Artlish River to Tle:ho Island (29km)

The view in the morning from our launch at Artlish River - epic! 

After a slow start, we launched around 10:45 am and made the 29 km paddle before sunset. We round a nice spot on the sand ithsmus at the sound end of the island where we met two other kayaking groups. We actually didn't think we'd find anyone else here but then we found out they'd taken a water taxi! 

Our first site at Tle:ho Island

Day 3: Paddle from Tle:ho Island to Cuttle Islets (25 km)

One of the caves on Thomas Island

Insane amounts of intertidal creatures

With some tips from the other kayakers, we were keen to explore Thomas Island. We landed for lunch on the pebble beach and were able to climb through a very cool cave with 2 entrances. Back in the kayaks, we found the reported dead gray whale (long expired) and I paddled into the cave on the main island, but it was too tight to turn around with my 18'3 ft Telkwa Sport, so I had to reverse very carefully as the waves were amplified by the narrow passage. We were actually aiming to get to Surfer's beach (west of Jackobson Pt.) which was another 10 km but the spot at Cuttle Its. was just so idealic that to pass up a night there would have been just silly. 

Day 4: Paddle from Cuttle Islets to Jackobson Pt. (surfer's beach) (10km)

This was only a 10 km paddle but it was considered by Matas to be the most difficult one. A southwesterly was sort of giving us a push but there were also some side waves making for some nervous paddling on his part (and it was raining). I personally felt comfortable with the  conditions but nevertheless agreed that it would be appropriate to make camp at surfer's beach add some km's to the next day. Once on the beach, the wind and rain intensified so we constructed a ramshackle hobo shelter out of a tarp, beach junk and driftwood to escape the wind and rain. 

We entertained ourselves by lying in the creek, letting our drysuits balloon and floating down the creek like a "lazy river". Unfortunately, I forgot to zip closed my pee pee zipper, so the inside of my pants got soaked in an instant! We spend a great deal of time getting a fire going which was a life saver because the weather was just miserable and we were quite wet. A fellow we had met the day before (can't remember his name) who was sailing paid us a visit from down the beach. He and his two fellow surfers brought us some jumbalaya which they couldn't finish so that was awesome. We shared some fireball whisky under our hobo shelter before he left. We amused ourselves later by running down the beach while passing a soccer ball that we found. 

Day 5: Jackobson Pt. to Nordstrom Creek to Solander Island and back to Nordstrom Creek (13 km)

The next morning, we broke camp and took advantage of the excellent weather to make our way to our ultimate camp, Nordstrom Creek which was much anticipated. The tide was low so we had 3 very long walks from our camp to the water to launch. Our surf launch was rather tricky but well executed. Shortly after departing, I veered slightly off course to check out a flock of western sandpipers as well as a wandering tattler. When I caught up to Matas, he had just seen a black bear in the next cove and a young wolf had walked up to the bear to check him out, then was chased off by the bear. I only just missed it. We carried on to our campsite past spectacular scenery with the Pacific ocean opening up to us on our left and the misty Brooks Range to our right. 

It was about noon by the time camp was set, and the weather was very calm and sunny so I decided "what the hell - I'm going for Solander Island!" We had been forewarned by several people about the northwest winds and swells that characterize Solander, so I figured why not strike while the weather is calm. Matas didn't feel quite comfortable going for it so around 1pm I made the 8km solo paddle at great speed (it took me only about an hour). The Island got bigger and bigger on the horizon which motivated me to paddle even harder. 

The back side of Solander Island. Truly the most exposed place I've taken a kayak! 

The first thing I noticed was alot of Steller's Sea Lions on the southeast side as well as their grunting and rumbling and their rank smells mixing with the sea breeze. There were alot of Glaucous-winged Gulls and Pigeon Guillemots, but what struck me as well was "where were the Cassin's Auklets and Tufted Puffins?" There are supposed to be thousands nesting here, especially of the auklets. I started circumnavigating the island and by the time I got to the north side, I started seeing a few puffins streaming by in small groups. One was sitting on the water with a mouthfull of fish. Suddenly, I spotted a solitary puffin with a white belly and which cheeks and a black breast band. "HOLY S***" I said to myself. This was a HORNED PUFFIN!!! I took my very expensive camera out of its drybag and snapped a few photos to prove to myself as much as to others that I did indeed see this northwestern rarity. As I rounded the far side of the island, I slotted between Solander and a smaller island. The water in this gap was VERY turbulent and choppy. I got myself through there with great haste. Then I saw another Horned Puffin fly over, then one sitting on the water at the same time. So there were at least 2 but possibly 3 (or more) amongst the colony. A couple of very distant shearwaters streamed by. I Was in heaven. I did a second lap of the island. 

It had been 1 hour of time spent watching birds at Solander so I figured it was about time to head back. I had successfuly circumnavigated and even seen a lifer so I was very happy. 

After regailing Matas with my tale of success amid calm waters, he was convinced to join me for round 2 the following day, provided that the conditions did not change. When I got back, he went fishing and caught 3 rockfish. He returned the smaller ones and kept the big one which we fried in beer batter - a recipe that would have made Gordon Ramsey say "F**k me that's delicious!" 

There was one more thing we had to do that day - something Matas had been putting off for quite a while - which was the flippy lesson. WE donned our drysuits and paddled out to deep water to practice a few wet exits until he could comfortably do it unassisted and in a rapid manner. Now he was ready to face the legendary Solander Island!!! 

Day 6: Nordstrom Creek to Solander Island and back (16 km)

We got up early in the morning, and as we were having breakfast, Matas spotted something moving down the beach. In my binoculars I could see a lone wolf messing around with something in the creek. I grabbed my camera and we sat atop a rocky spire, hidden in wait. After some time, and in doubt that the beast was still there, it trotted down the beach, right under us! I snapped my camera like a machine gun and by that time it was fully aware of our presence, but didn't really seem to care. It came closer to investigate us and get our scent then casually strode into the old growth forest never to be seen again. 

Before the morning got too late we set out for Solander Island. Just as we stopped to take in the foreboding cliffs of this isolated colony, a Horned Puffin flew over head, which Matas immediately recognized from my prior photos. We then saw a few small groups of Tufted Puffins, one of which flew right over our heads. By then Matas was satisfied and wanted to go back as soon as possible, while I decided to make it a full lap and catch up with him. I never did catch up because during the return journey, I constantly got held up by groups of inquisitive puffins which would deviate from their course to check me out as they flew overhead. 

The only boats I saw were 1 sailboat and this coast guard zodiac. 

I tried very patiently to get good photos until finally I came across a solitary puffin which was sitting on the water, repeatedly diving and resurfacing. I smoked it. 

Carrying on, I spotted 3 Humpback Whale spouts on the horizon, almost just off our beach. I kept paddling forward and was rewarded as not one but two surfaced on either side of me - a breathtaking sight. I returned to camp to regale Matas with these tales. 

Day 7: Nordstrom Creek to Cuttle Islets (23 km)

Nordstrom Creek is a truly amazing place and we both agreed it was the best backcountry campsite we'd ever found. Behind us was an old growth forest criss-crossed with pristine salmon streams and filled with massive trees. It was made a provincial park early and as such has never been logged. There aren't even any roads. For all we know there could even be Spotted Owls here. Why not? We were told this was the home of some massive cougars (we never saw any tracks). At the crack of dawn, on our last morning, we climbed up to a rocky pinnacle and hid ourselves in a natural blind, hoping to see a bear, a cougar or a wolf sauntering down the beach on either side. We saw nothing, but it was still a great way to watch the sun come up. We then had a pretty good search for a so-called cave that was supposed to be near the creek, but with no success. There was a sort of trail that went off into the woods but it faded away so we turned back. The only drawback of Nordstrom is that because nobody ever goes here (it is too treacherous for motorboats to land), the beach is full of garbage that has washed up on the shore. Some of it was from Asia, some was fishing junk from Washington state, the rest was endless plastic bottles. We thought it would be a cool idea to get sponsored to do a beach cleaning tour of the Brooks some day. 

During the first 10 minutes of our paddle, Matas brought in a monster Coho Salmon. After that, we diverted by quite some distance, keeping in touch by means of our radios. Matas hugged the coastline, hoping to catch a glimpse of another bear or wolf, while I wanted to take in the open sea in the hopes of seeing an albatross or a jaeger. Well I didn't see an albatross. What I should have done was cut the head off of that salmon and start chumming. But what I did find was a flock of 80 Sooty Shearwaters resting on the water. I coasted slowly toward them until I was right in the middle of the flock and they were almost touching the bow of my kayak! I tried feeding them bits of babybell cheese but I think it freeked one of them out and he took flight, sending the rest of them off as well. Later, I saw a distant Pomarine Jaeger chasing a Glaucous-winged Gull, and an unidentified immature jaeger (probably Parasitic by the looks of it). I also found a floating dead sea otter. This was all pretty exciting but by this time I had separated myself from Matas by a distance more than I was comfortable with, so I endeavored to close the distance between us. Eventually I caught up with him and we carried on down the coast, past Jackobson Pt., and made the very large open water crossing (about 10 km, the longest one I've done) from there to Cuttle Islets to that same awesome site we'd stayed at before. I made a small detour to check out the O'leary Islets while Matas bee-lined for the camp because his lower back was acting up. O'Leary is marked as a seabird colony on the map. There were alot of guillemots but the main attraction was a huge raft of about 80 Sea Otters just on the other side, which didn't see me creeping up on them until I was quite close. 

There were about 80 Sea Otters in this group, the largest seen on this trip

Satisfied, I caught up with Matas at the camp. He gutted the massive salmon on the beach using a driftwood cutting board. We were a very efficient team throughout the entire trip. By this point we were extremely hungry. We seasoned that fish with a blend of salt, pepper and smoked paprika, then fried it in butter on high heat, perfectly searing the outside while keeping the middle nice and pink. The flesh of one animal fried in the fat of another - a truly devine combination. I was too involved with the flavours in my mouth to notice a rather large black bear sauntering down the beach just a few meters to our right. Matas alerted me to the beast, but it was off before I could get my camera ready. On such a tiny island we were surprised to encounter a bear! Knowing he could not take on two of us, the beast then swam to the next tiny island. So just know that just because you're on an island, doesn't mean there can't be bears! 

I took a short excursion to look for some ancient rotting house posts and was able to find one after some searching

Day 8: Cuttle Islets to Tle:Ho Island

We saw the bear again. He had come back for the Salmon entrails that Matas had chucked in the sea the evening before

This was one of the most epic days of the trip. Rather than hop from island to island as we'd done on the way out, we hugged the shoreline in search of caves. First we weaved through the Bunsby's, taking in amazing scenery. There was a boat dropping off workers to clean the various coves of years worth of garbage. Matas heard wolves howling so we hung around for a while but didn't hear them again so we continued. The low tide made weaving through certain islands tricky, forcing us once to get out and pull the yaks for a short stretch. We reached Barney's Island, our lunch spot, where we hoped to check out a native cabin that apparently open to the public when not being used by its owners. It was a very cool cabin (still under construction) and an amazing clamshell beach. The garbage cleanig crew (from raincoast research foundation) was there having lunch as well and we exchanged stories about our trip and their work. They told us we had just missed a monster wolf on the shoreline by about 5 minutes. Darn! With lots of km's yet to go, we continued along the coast in search of caves. We paddled ever onward against a backdrop of rocky cliffs backed by dramatic mist-cloud mountains. We were almost starting to think the so-called caves didn't exist when there they were. The first one was a blind-ended cave curtained by a beautiful waterfall complete with rainbow. We paddled through it a couple of times for our shower (by this point in the trip, we'd stopped wearing our drysuits). Just a little further was a second cave that had two entrances and was a completely paddle-through cave. As a man with a phobia for caves, Matas required a good deal of convincing before he paddled through this one. It was so long you couldn't even see the light from the other side! That was one of the coolest things I've ever found in the wilderness. I tried to collect some drinking water from the waterfall by letting it fall into my waterbottle but this was extremely ineffective so we made a hard push for the next creek (Phillip Creek). This was a very difficult surf landing onto cobble beach (I had a rough go of it). I must have banged up the bottom of my kayak pretty good (luckily I'd covered the whole rear keel with gorilla tape for protection). This looked like a pristine salmon stream (we could see little fry in the river). A peregrine falcon circled the tops of the spruces above. We lied on our backs, baking on the hot cobble beach. Alas it we had to leave this magical paradise for another one. It was a long day! We still had several km's to go. Before reaching Tle:ho Island, Matas stopped at a certain inlet which seemed to be popular with the native fishermen. After some effort and some luck, he pulled out a monster of a Coho Salmon just like the first one. We could not wait to feast on its flesh so we finished the paddle with vigour. 

Back at the beach, we were delighted that our dream campsite was now available so I set tent with a ridiculous 360 view while Matas prepared the salmon feast. We pan-seared that sucker in butter with my special backcountry seasoning and I think it is fair to say had one of the top 10 best meals of my life. The fat of one animal, combined with the flesh of another - the perfect combination, topped with the ultimate secret seasoning, hunger. 

Day 9: Tle:ho Island to Rugged Point Provincial Park

Reinvigorated by last night's feast, we set off for Rugged Point Provincial Park, supposedly a pristine white sand beach in the middle of nowhere where "bears, wolves and cougars outnumber people" according to the John Kimantas guide book. Because we had had near-perfect weather the whole trip, we could afford 2 nights at this spot if we wanted. 

On the way, Matas tried really hard for another monster salmon but despite being in the right area (all the native boats around us were reeling them in like crazy), we just weren't lucky this time. As Terry says, "that's why its called fishing, not catching". 

The beach was similar to Vargas Island but I would say more scenic. However, there were many more people than I expected. Even our camping spot had three other groups nearby. One group had kayaked, the others got dropped off by a float plane. I guess the word got out about this spot. They were even building a lodge nearby which is spoiling this pristine wilderness spot if you ask me. 

Day 10: Rugged Point Provincial Park to Artlish River and back to Victoria

At the crack of dawn, we went on a walk toward the lodge to look for wolves, bears or cougars. There were tons of wolf tracks (many fresh) around the creek and even one set of huge cougar tracks but we didn't see any. We did catch a bear by surprise when we took a logging road to get around the lodge. Back at camp we started packing up. We were pretty low on food and pretty much ready to end the trip (it would be 9 days rather than 10 all said and done) so 1 night at Rugged Point was enough. Besides, Matas realized that the day prior he must have lost his entire tackle box during the surf landing so we wouldn't be catching any more fish, which would have been the main reason for staying. 

Our epic site at Rugged Point Provincial Park

The expansive beach at Rugged Point PP

We got a good rhythm going for the roughly 25 km or so up Tahsish Inlet to Artlish River. According to the Wild Coast guide book and to the locals, inflow winds were supposed to give us a push early in the afternoon. I had an inspiration to lash our 2 kayaks together as a catamaran and use our tarp as a sail. It seemed like a good idea but everytime we put it up, the wind died down. Matas was not keen on the plan but I insisted on trying it. In the end it probably slowed us down if anything. For a brief few minutes, it it picked up and I deployed a solo sail, probably barely matching Matas's speed but still way behind him. I jamed to some Beetles on my speaker as I cruised along the shoreline - this was the good life! We made a stop halfway back to finish the absolute last of our food supply, then crushed the rest of the km's. Finally, for the last km or so, the strong inflows really did pick up and I was able to smash it with my sail - it was worth it!

Wanting to get home to our women, we packed like hell and managed to be rolling in about 1 hour which was pretty impressive. Matas rumbled down the logging roads like we were rally race (possibly getting all 4 wheels in the air for a split second). The homemade wooden roof rack and the kayaks easily withstood it all (Better than my one from ebay). We only stopped for McDick's, fuel and once to pee and we made it home by 11pm. After feasting on freshly caught coho salmon and beer-battered rockfish perfectly prepared, to fill our stomachs with McDick's was a gastric travesty (in more ways than one). I had to threaten to tell Matas the score of the NBA finals if he unleashed another one. Finally home, we stashed all the stuff in she shed with our last ounce of strength and left all the washing for the next day. Our hard and sinewy bodies collapsed into our beds and we could rest as men who have fulfilled our destinies. We can now say that we've paddled to Solander Island and back.