Sorry no photos.
Sunday I left Sooke to see how far I could get - weather permitting - on my first excursion out and around Beechey Head. I'd made allowances for stashing the 'yak and hiking back to pick up my bike and trailer if things got too ugly. Lots of great trail along East Sooke Park, plus potential pull-outs at Cheanuh Marina in Becher Bay, as well as Pedder Bay Marina. Both have easy access back to the Goose and are about a two hour hike from Roche Cove. Monday afternoon I pulled into the Inner Harbour as all the '150 year of BC' celebrations were on. Utter chaos!
Got a late start heading out of Victoria with Kayak in tow behind the bicycle Sunday. Heading out to Roche Cove along the Galloping Goose trail. For anyone who hasn't peddled this trail it is an old railway bed, flat and well maintained. It's a blessing for human powered transport!
Roche Cove is a little used and very calm little Cove tucked way up the end of the Sooke Basin. Perfect place to launch and take out but it's trail access only. A short carry down to the Cove on a good trail from the 'Goose'. Launched at 1630hrs.
There can be some challenging conditions on the Sooke Basin, especially on the North and North East sides, if the usual westerly or South westerly winds are coming in. Can be a lot of fun surfing in and around the East end towards Goodridge Penninsula, but there's always the option of ducking back into Roche cove if things get nasty. Tide changes can present the paddler with a current under the bridge at the cove head.
Paddling along the South side of the Basin keeps me (relatively) out of the wind when I'm trying to save my juices for the outer coast. Another place to watch for currents on the tide change are crossing through the narrows at the mouth of the Sooke River.
So I decided to paddle across to Pim Head and followed the South side, paddling against a 2 1/2 knot current at Sooke River narrows. Crossed over to North side to come up in the lee of Whiffen Spit. Afternoon winds were pushing from the west, causing me some weather cocking as I crossed over. As I paddled up towards Whiffen Spit , I noticed a thick cloud of fog hanging outside... not a good sign... I hummed and hawed for a few minutes before deciding to cruise out and give it a look around Company Point. Turns out the fog was forming a heavy bank, but it was worst 100 feet or so off-shore. Waves were fairly chunky, 2-3 feet with crests, and paddle-able. Things got ugly off Possesion Point, the result of the time of day as well as westerly winds picking up. Big (!) waves were breaking on the submerged rocks so I scooted along in the Kelp beds as much as possible to keep out of the uglies. I was heaving on the paddle pretty heavily, when all of a sudden I looked to my left and saw a big, barnacle covered flat shelf of rock exposed as a wave pulled back and built... it was about a foot off my port, and I was about to breach right onto it with the wave dumping down on top of me... Now I'm not sure how I did it, or even what exactly I did but I swept a sweep stroke off the front, reef side of my bow, layed myself horizontally, down into the wave as it started to bury me, my whole body was in it, including my head, I somehow rotated my wrists and pulled off a high brace in to the face of the wave... instinctively... which still blows me away... I didn't even think I had a reliable high brace. Next thing I knew I was out from the rock like I had been yanked away sideways - and I was paddling as hard as I could to get around the point. The fishermen sitting on the edge of the fog got quite a show. I screamed out a yee-haaaaaaa and caught my breath for a sec. What a rush! Around the point things calmed down considerably, and after getting around Pike Point the wind was pushing at my back. Possesion Point seems to be my physical testing grounds, especially when I paddle out there in the afternoon breezes. Iron Mine Bay in the lee of Donaldson (Secretary) Island is a good hideaway/rest stop, and I've tucked in there before.
After Iron Mine Bay, decent landings are few and far between, there are a few little pocket beaches, hardly big enough to get out of the weather though and surrounded by cliffs. I was almost tempted to pull into one of them but decided to paddle on in search of a better place to stay the night. Plan was to get off the water by 1830hrs. and before I reached Beechey Head. Those same westerly waves that gave me grief off Possesion made for some fun paddling, they were coming up on my rear quarter and with some heavy handed sweep strokes I was able to surf along. A few came right over the back of my kayak and slammed into my back. I was still running on adrenalin from earlier and thoroughly enjoying it all! The stop I was looking for was past the 'Trap Shack', but seeing as how I've never been out this far I had to keep a pretty keen eye on the coastline looking for the hidden entry to a beach I'd been told about. I definitely didn't want to miss it and have to paddle back against the waves and wind. Searching the coast kept me a lot closer than I wanted to be, and I was watching for rocks or the breaking waves that seem to indicate them. I got slammed enough times by suddenly breaking waves to keep me fresh and on edge.
...and there it was, I almost missed it. A narrow little crack in the rock, and a glimpse of gravel and a log across it. I cranked Tassie in and glided into the calm and windless narrows, narrow enough that I felt like I was being squeezed by the high walls. There was the beach. Beautiful, quiet, and serene. kingfishers swooped overhead, and seals ducked away. Wow! Like finding paradise. Hidden behind an island I baked a couple of potates, roasted a head of garlic and drank a few cups of hot sweet tea while writing by the light of my little woodstove. Later I watched the stars, played with the voles scurrying about searching the seaweed, touching them when they weren't looking, and went for a hike up to the cliff to watch the sea. Later I crawled under my tarp, wrapping myself in mylar and slept.
Monday I packed up, got on the water at 0800 and seeing how perfect and calm the sea was decided to head straight out to Beechey Head instead of hanging about and trying my home-made handline out. I originally had planned on waiting for slack tide in the afternoon but decided to make a good start of the day of paddling. At this point I was just expecting to pull in at Beecher Bay, after an explorartory look at Race Rocks. The fog lifted at 0900, sun shone bright, some interesting paddling at the next few rocky outcrops. Most of the morning I had the waves following me. Beechey Head had some rips, and swirling eddies, choppy and confused seas but not too drastic. The morning was windless as was most of the day, really surprised me, I figure it is because of the building ridge of high pressure off the coast of Vancouver Island.
Becher Bay was calm... so I kept paddling.
...from here there was so much to see and remember and i didn't take any notes. I spotted the sandbar that had been mentioned to me. Nice to see a few landmarks. Race Rocks was calm, I chose to duck on the inside of Bentinck Islands, where the D'Arcy Island lepers were moved to live out their lives. Things were calm and peacful, until I rounded the point, then I had to contend with an oncoming two knot current for the better part an hour (or two?), lots of time spent trying to keep straight into it while it constantly tried spinning me around.
Pedder Bay was calm... so I kept paddling.
Next point to pass, William Head. There on my left was a finally a landmark I recognized, the shiny white trailers of Weirs Beach. I decided to take a breather and grab a bite to eat on the next big beach I spotted - Devonian Regional Park. A nice, fairly steep, cobbly beach. Zoomed across Parry Bay on a changing tide at 5.3 knots (according to the GPS speedo) feeling fresh and happy. Water was still flat, not a cloud in the sky, and no breeze so I headed off-shore and made a bee-line to Albert Head, then straight across the open water to the Inner Harbour.
Looking ahead I watched the Snowbirds performing over Victoria, what a show, the sun reflected off the white bellies of the jets and they shone as they flew formation. I had no idea just how close together they fly. WOW! Highlight was when they came barreling over my head, and made a sharp banked turn, perfectly in unison, wing over wing, engines roaring, and hooked inland. An unexpected treat!
I'm still moving at what i feel is a really good clip. I love the way this kayak handles, fast in the straight runs AND maneouverable in the uglies. If I'd known that I was going to make such good time, I would have taken the scenic route all the along the coast, past Esquimalt Lagoon to Fort Rodd Hill, and across. I did come across a huge red jellyfish caught way out in the center, in an eddy. It was at least 16 inches across, edges the shape of a daisy, with a long, long tail, at least ten feet long before it disappeared out of site in the depths. A yellow-jacket landed on my kayak deck for a brief rest. He was at least three kilometres from land, and looked like he was planning on continuing his way to Albert Head. I wished him luck as he lifted off and buzzed past my ear. Nice to have some company out here.
Next stop - the Inner Harbour.
Utter chaos, with the combined long weekend traffic and all the extra activity generated by the 150 year festivities in the harbour I felt soooo prone. Seaplanes were taking off, one after another, sailboats and fishermen maneouvering back and forth across the harbour mouth, incoming pleasure cruisers, high-powered whale watching boats roaring out. Whoosh. Everyone trying to maneouver around each other at the entrance to get on the proper side for entry and exit, criss-crossing. Tourists in canoes criss-crossing the harbour, in the way of incoming ferries and out-going seaplanes. What a mess! I headed over to Fisherman's Wharf for a much anticipated fish and chip meal. A veritable flotilla of kayaks and dinghies were starting to arrive to cluster in the harbour listening to live entertainment on the Parliment Building's lawn. I found it all over-whelming after the quiet solitude of my paddle so I headed up the Gorge to my take-out spot, stashed my kayak, changed into clothes, and walked home.
Today, now that's it cooler, and I'm rested up a bit, I head back out to Sooke to pick up my tricycle and trailer and peddle it home.
Life is Good
daniel
Time on water - approx. 10 hours.
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