Sometimes an opportunity for a novel experience arises in your life that you would be remiss to not embrace with a wide grin and a hearty sense of enthusiasm.
Such was the case when my good friend Sabrina, whom I know from the wacky world of paragliding, invited me to kayak for several days along the west coast of British Columbia’s Vancouver Island.
In addition to having spent two summer guiding kayak tours in Alaska, Sabrina also boasts (on her watery resume) the cool accomplishment of having built the kayaks we were to use.
With her partner Andrey, the kits were ordered from a company located in Port Townsend, Washington and the two spent the ensuing two winters, when the dreary Pacific Northwest lends itself to indoor projects, assembling the wooden beauties in the back section of their garage in Issaquah, Washington.
Sabrina described the general idea of where we were headed, and supplied some online resources for me to learn about the undertaking.
After getting an idea of what this would entail.... and the amazing potential to encounter a variety of marine wildlife, I gave a resounding.....
“Yes!”
A drive from Seattle to Vancouver, a ferry across the Strait of Georgia (which separates mainland BC and Vancouver Island), and another drive across the densely forested interior saw us in the small tourist town of Tofino.
The town and its immediate environs offered some of the most beautiful scenery I had ever seen. The best part is that Tofino was just the beginning.
We spent the night on the island and then prepared the kayaks the next morning.
One of the advantages to this means of transport is that relative abundance of storage space sea kayaks offer which, allowed us to provision ourselves with all sorts of goodies.
In between long pushes of choppy salt water, under either the blistering sun or energy evaporating rain, we fortified our bodies and spirits with oatmeal cooked in coconut milk and mac n’ cheese enriched with vegetarian chili.
But I digress.....
Our main object was to reach the Hot Springs coves which, would necessitate paddling 37 km north. We would need to pass two islands, Vargas and Flores.
Just to recap the project: we were aiming to to paddle along a remote area, known for mountains that flow into the sea, for the sole purpose of soaking in natural hot springs.......
It didn't take long to be completely astonished by the otherworldly splendor of this region.
We pushed off from the beached and nosed our handcrafted vessels out of the harbor. Within one hour of casting off... less than one hour... we were trailing a pod of eight Orca whales as they hunted marine mammals.
A group of tall, elegant black dorsal fins surfaced gently and then cruised proudly ahead. Suddenly, a strong change of direction followed by swift thrashing signaled that they had closed in on the quarry. We watched this again and again for about 45 minutes as we followed their tract north.
Of course, we maintained a distance what would keep both the killer whales, and us safe.
I do not know exactly why, maybe it was because of my own heightened senses combined with the ever present back and forth motion of boat atop the slowly rolling sea, but watching them hunting was mesmerizing. Elated, we put to shore on Vargas Islands to celebrate the bounty.
After the few minutes it took to drag the boats beyond the reach of the surf, Sabrina spotted tracks from coastal wolves.
WOAH!!!
Within two hours of casting off, we experienced two very special encounters with the region’s mega-fauna.
We rejoiced, lunched, and glided our way for to a camping spot on the southern end of Flores Island. Just before reaching our beach for the night, we passed a seal rookery during the deep yellow light prior to sunset. A dozen or so seals reclined on the rocks or played in seeming liquid gold.
WHAT AMAZING LUCK!
After two more days of similarly captivating moments (and a last minute push that involved total concentration and brute strength), we reached the Hot Springs Cove.
We docked, made camp, and feasted on the delicious mac n’ chili goodness. Bald eagles periodically flew to a nearby perch.
The sun set, and the moon rose.
Time to get to the most magical moment of the trip.
We followed the 1.5 mile trail by moonlight to the warm waters which set the whole adventure in motion. Through not able to see the entirety of our setting, but we made out massive ferns beneath wide trees of some cedar variety in the beams of our headlamps.
Not knowing quite what to expect, we donned our swimming attire and climbed our way down the small rock faces, following the worn grooves and wafting sulfuric steam. Settling down into the hot water, we ranted endlessly about how this could even be possible. Soon, the surging waves of the Pacific flooded the pools with a cold reminder of the wild coast.
Fun was had.
Beauty was seen.
Memories were made.
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