Paddling the Park

February-March 2006

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.
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by Aileen Stalker

Cabbage Island is part of the new Gulf Islands National Park Reserve.

My love affair with the Gulf Islands goes back thirty years.

Located in the Strait of Georgia, between the mainland of British Columbia and Vancouver Island, these islands have for a long time provided easy access to all the activities I enjoy—hiking, biking, walking, swimming and relaxing on sunbaked sandstone rocks. But only when a persuasive paddling partner encouraged me to paddle with him here did I discover an entirely different personality of the small islands that are accessible only by boat.

The Gulf Islands National Park Reserve (GINPR) is the product of a fruitful Provincial/Federal collaboration to preserve a unique ecosystem which provides home to plants and animals not found elsewhere in Canada. It includes a number of former provincial parks and marine parks (D’Arcy Island, Isle-de-Lis/Rum Island, Sidney Spit, Princess Margaret / Portland Island, Cabbage Island, Winter Cove, Beaumont Marine Park, Prior Centennial and McDonald Provincial Parks) along with numerous other islets and 26 square kilometers of submerged marine area that are environmentally important because of wildlife, plant and marine ecosystems. The result is Canada’s 40th National Park and one of the smallest, at only 34 square kilometers of land and intertidal area. Until outstanding First Nations land claims are settled, the area is called a National Park ‘Reserve’ and managed by Parks Canada under Interim Management Guidelines.

Self-portrait from Hayley’s bow-mounted camera.

I had long been an urban kayaker, self-limited by my fear of big waves and unknown waters. But my familiarity with the Gulf Islands made for a fairly easy transition to the greater challenge these waters presented. We took to the water and I fell in love again.

My paddling partner is an avid bird watcher and the number of different birds that he identified reflected the fact that the Park is on the edge of the Pacific Flyway and also provides a year round home to many birds because of its Mediterranean climate. From shore, we heard the wonderful call of a loon, a sound I have always associated with inland freshwater lakes. But there it was—just as beautiful floating in the ocean. Numerous eagles stared down at us from shoreline trees or flew close above us. The most spectacular eagle experience was when five turkey vultures dive-bombed and then encircled an eagle protecting its meal on the rocky shore nearby. But no vulture was going to get that catch.

There were things that went bump and screech in the night on the islands—mostly small, ravenous raccoons. Smaller but as feisty as their city cousins, they had no hesitation about climbing up the tree directly in front of us to try undoing the ropes suspending our food bags. The midget deer we saw on Rum Island were relentlessly munching their way through the undergrowth thereby shifting the ecology of the island. This may explain why we didn’t see any of the chocolate lilies that supposedly grow there (Rum Island is also called Isle de Lis—island of lilies).

In the water, harbor seals were constant companions. Once I looked up to the high, flat rocks along the shoreline and saw a baby seal, still wearing its dappled white coat, staring down at me while it waited for its mother. Another baby seal jumped off a rock and tried to follow us—those Werner paddles must look like mom’s flippers!

An imposing, kayak-sized sea lion emerged by one island and an inquisitive otter popped up among kelp to watch us paddle by. My favorite sighting was of several pods of Dahl porpoises which made graceful bounds out of the water as they fed among a school of fish and then disappeared so rapidly that they seemed like a dream.

When the tide was out, we walked along the shoreline, entertained by aquatic life in the small tidepools. Colorful sea stars, sculpins, hermit crabs, midget sea anemones and mollusks of all sorts hid in the carved sandstone tidepools, unaware of the red-legged, black oystercatcher lunching on their cousins around the corner.

Many of the islands have stories that reflect the growth of British Columbia and its rich cultural heritage, from thousands of years of habitation by First Nations people, through early settler days, to the present. A glimpse of the remains of a leper colony that was situated on D’Arcy Island from the late 1800s to early 1900s added a sense of isolation and sadness to my impressions of that island, while the orchards left on Portland Island from settlement by Hawaiian (Kanaka) immigrants in the 1880s gave me an appreciation of the resiliency and resourcefulness of the early settlers. The docks left from Prohibition days, when Rum Island was a liquor cache, provided a whole fantasy story about the evil beverage we now so blithely added to our nighttime hot toddies.

One of countless Gulf Island beaches scattered with large driftlogs.

As in any love affair, there were moments of anxiety. When traveling by ferry to the Gulf Islands, I had always marveled at the strength of the tides and currents in Active Pass between Mayne and Galiano Islands. But it was only when I watched from the beach as my paddling partner unsuccessfully tried to plough through the incoming tide between two small islands, that I realized the same push and pull of water happens in every small channel.

The lesson that was imprinted on me over and over was that paddlers need to be familiar with a variety of water conditions or have a guide who can lead and instruct them. Even with the tide and current charts, reading the water was like reading emotions—often what I thought I saw wasn’t what was happening. In the end it was frequently the direction that the bull kelp was streaming that answered my plaintive question: “Aren’t we supposed to be going with the tide now?”

On all of the islands there were rustic amenities. We learned this is a deliberate choice by Parks Canada to offer a ‘backcountry’ experience within easy reach of urban environments—a perspective that will be maintained as they progress with their management plans. This meant water containers on the deck of our kayaks, since there is no potable water at any of the island camping areas. However, meeting other paddlers was easy as we joined round a picnic table for shared appetizers or commiserated with the owner of cooling beer that had drifted away with the tide. Several of the islands even offered modest hikes, like the scenic, rambling trail encircling Portland Island, and the terrific two kilometer track on Sidney Island that was perfect for a morning jog to eliminate leg atrophy after six days of paddling.

Any relationship usually encounters some obstacles and the largest one presented to me was the imposing presence of BC Ferries. Despite an early rise at five o’clock to catch the tide and be clear of the ferry traffic, I found myself crossing a channel with a gigantic ferry approaching at an alarming speed (big boats often appear to be traveling more slowly than they really are). My paddling increased exponentially and I made it across with space to spare, but it was reassuring to hear later from the BC Ferries’ communication officer, that one of the main jobs for the spotter on the front deck is to look for potential hazards—including kayakers.

BC Ferries easily accommodates kayakers walking their boats on board, a practice that saved us a considerable amount on car fares and reservations. By walking aboard we also had more flexibility in our choice of where to put in and pull out to get a ferry back to the mainland. With those saved dollars, we headed straight for the Pacific Buffet for an economical feast on the way home, much appreciated after all our one burner meals.

It all ended too soon and now, in midwinter, like the ‘Siren of the Sea’ singer Dido, I still have sand in my shoes and can’t lose the thought of you. Gulf Islands National Park Reserve—with your smoothskinned arbutus, strong currents, graceful dolphins, craggy shorelines, intriguing coves and opportunities for adventure—I need to see you again!

HOW TO GET THERE

Each of the main southern Gulf Islands (Galiano, Mayne, North Pender, Saturna and Saltspring) as well as the Swartz Bay ferry terminal, have sites suitable for launching for a trip to the National Park Reserve. They are serviced on a daily basis by BC Ferries (www.bcferries.com), leaving from Tsawwassen (mainland) or Swartz Bay (Vancouver Island). Access to the Tsawwassen ferry dock is by Highway 17 turning from Highway 99 (main access route between Seattle and Vancouver) or by local bus or taxi from the Vancouver Airport. Access to the Swartz Bay ferries is by Highway 17 from Victoria. McDonald Park campground, close to Sidney and part of the Gulf Islands National Park Reserve, is an additional launch site. Float plane transportation can also be arranged to the larger Gulf Islands. And if you want more after exploring the National Park Reserve, head northwest up the Gulf Island chain, where you’ll find various marine parks en route to Gabriola, the northernmost of the contiguous Gulf Islands, and the city of Nanaimo on adjacent Vancouver Island where you can ferry back to the Mainland from either Duke Point or Departure Bay.

SERVICES

Kayak tours and rentals are available on each of the bigger Islands: Galiano, Mayne, the Penders, Saturna, Saltspring. Rental prices for a day are in the range of singles $45 to doubles $85 Cdn and decrease for longer rental periods. For company contact information, see ads throughout this issue or check www. WaveLengthMagazine.com > Logo Links > Tours).

ACCOMMODATION

B&Bs and hotel/inn accommodations are available on all of the islands, though limited on some. Ask the Gulf Island kayak companies for recommendations, try www.hellobc.com, or google your accommodation requirements for specific islands. In peak season, accommodation should be booked in advance.

BEST BOOK TO READ

Sea Kayak the Gulf Islands (2004) by Mary Ann Snowden, Rocky Mountain Books. You can help support Gulf Islands conservation efforts by ordering her book from the Georgia Strait Alliance at gsa@GeorgiaStrait.org.

© Aileen Stalker is co-author with her son Andrew Nolan of Paddling Through History, Sea Kayak Vancouver and Victoria. Rocky Mountain Books (2005). To learn more about GINPR: www.pc.gc.ca