outdoors, kayaking, adventures
Ok, this might get rambly, it's almost 10:00 pm, and nothing good happens after 10, but I'm all set up so I'm gonna write, and share some photos, and you're just gonna have to deal.
Some backstory:
I've got a chunk of friends who are extremely active outdoor-loving maniacs. They kayak, they raft, they camp, they hike, they climb, one of them does ice-rescues, I think? I don't even know, it's a lot, and I am blissfully ignorant about a lot of it. Point being, when Laura looked around the room at one of our ladies soup night gatherings and said "lets go on a kayak trip!", I was... hesitant, but curious? I'd never done that activity before, I'm pretty iffy on water-sports in general. I scuba-dived once, and came out of the experience with the attitude of "whelp, that was neat, never again." I feel the same way about snowboarding. I have no broad explanation for this, 'cuz I really enjoy the rock-climbing they've gotten me into, and that seems more dangerous & difficult than either of the afore-mentioned items on the NOPE list.
Point being, Laura assured me that she had taken her parents on similar trips, and that even with no experience, and a solid 5 years of working-from-home desk-jockey sedentary lifestyle, I'd be fine. (She was mostly right, there wasn't any huge disaster, so you aren't worried!) And so, prep began. Laura is an organizational boss, by the way. If I ever need a thing organized and planned, I'm immediately going to her and Snack for help. She found a group to take us, participants were corralled, dates were chosen, money was put down, and a gear list was distributed, revised, and double-checked, especially for us newbies.
Two weeks ago, after a flurry of activity, me and seven other amazing people walked onto the Anacortes to Friday Harbor ferry, with a long weekends worth of paddling and camping gear, and at least in my case, some trepidation.
We stayed the night before in a local hotel, packed all our belongings into a 20 liter and 10 liter dry bag, and were outside the kayak company's office at an ungodly hour of the morning. We were all handed paddling coats & pants (think very waterproof and unsexy rain-gear), and gathered around a map under glass, while our main guide explained the plan - paddle up to Stewart Island from the west side of San Juan, camp in Reid Harbor, circumnavigate the island the next day, and then paddle home the morning of the third.
There was a clown-car moment as we all piled into a van to meet up with our kayaks in a tiny little cove called Smallpox Bay. And yes, it's named that for the reason you're thinking. But soon we were on the beach, in our paddle shoes, watching all our gear for the weekend get packed into 4 double-kayaks and 2 singles. There was a brief discussion about whether we needed to sync our paddles with our kayak-partners (it will help, but isn't necessary to avoid hitting your partners paddle), and how to adjust our foot pegs, how to get in and out, and how to get our splash-skirts in the right spots to keep us dry-ish. We were about to ship off!
So, you may notice that no-where in there was "how to make the boat go, effectively and efficiently". Yeahhhh. This was very much a Learn By Doing trip. My day one boat partner and I were both first time paddlers, and it definitely showed. I didn't know what pace to set, she didn't know how effective it would be to match my pace, we got caught in a current & were basically moving mostly sideways at one point. It was kind of a cluster-fuck. But we made it. And as a reward, as we paddled into Reid Harbor, parked... moored?... parked. Parked there in the middle of the harbor, was a sailboat, named The Wombat. And if that wasn't great enough, The Wombat was carrying the happiest black lab I have ever seen on a sailboat, and they were overjoyed to see people in kayaks below them in the water. Nothing like a happy dog to lift your spirits!!
Upon reaching land, and then almost falling over because for some reason land doesn't slosh about like the boat I'd just spent four hours willing across the water, we parked ourselves on the gravel beach and all pretty much fell over. A few of us even took a nap!
Meanwhile, our guide and his mentee unpacked the boats, carried them to their storage rack, guided us to setting up tents, making camp, and cooked us an amazing set of meals. I have not eaten as well at restaurants as I did this weekend, I swear. It was just... I have no words. I swear he was like "what foods does Rey really like, but not get to eat a lot because her husband is kinda meh on them", and then designed his menu based on the answer!
There was some discussion about tomorrows plans, some cards & dice (did you know that Farkle is a real game, and not just a weird word!?), and sat around a campfire enjoying each others company. There was talk of a sunset-watching hike but it never ended up materializing, which was entirely fine by me. Fighting not to get sucked into the currents around Spieden Island is tough work!!
Next day was a lazy morning, followed by a nice, calm, paddle around Stuart Island. To give you an idea, the paddle out was approximately 10 and change miles, and took us about 4 hours. The trip around the island was slightly more - 12 or so? and took us 5 hours. We swapped up who rowed with who, and my new paddle-partner Sarah let me steer! I'm 110% sure somewhere my husband stopped, pointed north, and laughed at her foolishness, but none the less, steer I did! And it went okay! Being able to see and match my partner felt a lot better than just trying to hold a steady beat & hoping everything behind me was fine, and we had a much better time keeping up with our guide.
Which isn't to say that we could, because that man was On A Mission. I don't really understand, since there was usually only 1 guide with a group, how he felt comfortable being that far ahead... he'd have totally lost me & my day one partner & never known what happened if something went slightly worse and he didn't have his mentee with him, bringing up the rear. The pressure to Do Better was intense. I wasn't sure if I was failing, or he was just... that much "better".
This whole time coming out to Stewart, and going around it, we'd had a strong flood tide helping us out. I don't really totally understand how tides work in the San Juans, but my understanding is the water was flowing north on the west of San Juan Island, and when the tide moved to an ebb, it would flow south instead. The problem came with the tides on the third day. They would be shifting from ebb, to flow, very early in the day, so we'd have to get up even earlier, to hopefully beat them.
We dutifully rose before the sun, downed some coffee, broke camp, and packed the boats. by 7:45, we were underway, hoping to catch the end of the ebb tide to sweep us back to Smallpox Bay and lunch. It would be another 3-4 hour paddle, and time was, apparently, of the essence.
It turns out, there's a thing that happens when the tide shifts from ebb to flood or vice versa. It's called "confusion", and the gist of it is, some water is still going one way, some water has turned to go the other way, some water is flowing in off of the nearby islands, and it's just a big goddamn mess. Imagine a toddler in a bathtub. So, we were told "stay right on the guides shoulder, he's reading the water, and will find the easiest way through", and off we went.
And no one could keep up. The man made his kayak dance, and even he seemed to be having some trouble, but the rest of us who didn't understand what the texture of the water was saying, or what to do when we paddled up to a 15 food diameter whirlpool, or when water was bubbling straight up from below as flows impacted each other? We just kind of had to muscle through it. Have I mentioned that motor boat wakes can be scary as heck in a kayak? It was a wet and tiring row back. We made it in three and a half hours. Our guide cussed for the first time when he realized how far behind the back half of the group was. He explained it was the changing currents sweeping us around.
We made it back, all safe and sound. We ate an amazing lunch of cheese and crackers. We drank so much fresh water, and put on warm dry wool clothing, and real shoes with soles, and wool hats, and just... chilled, while we waited for our ride back to Friday Harbor and the last boat of the day - the ferry back to Anacortes. We took pictures, and had a beer on the boat, and looked at the orcas causing a traffic jam in the ocean. We drove home, and I dunno about everyone else, but I was asleep by 8 that night.
People keep asking me "would you do it again?" and "did you have fun, though?", and I did have a blast, and as soon as I stop waking up with a numb and tingly arm, because apparently my little anxious self held on to my paddle so hard I hurt myself, I'll probably want to try again. For now, though, I keep telling people "after I forget how hard it was," and that's probably the truest thing I could say.
There's so much more to say, about the amazing women I met, and the creatures we saw, and the feelings of setting everything down and just... letting someone else be responsible for a few days (thank you so much for picking that up for me, Laura!!!!), but for now, I think I'll leave it at that.
Thank you for making it an amazing trip to everyone I travelled with, the guides who fed and labored on our behalf, the delightful Washington State Ferry Service, and the parks service for making the areas we travelled in and around available to us, your work, kindness, and efforts are appreciated so, so much. :D
Also, we saw a FUCKTON of creatures, including these!
