Broken Islands Tidal Life

Was digging through my harddrive and came across a couple videos I shot of marine life in the Broken Islands. Now that youtube lets you upload in HD I thought I would share.

Hermit crabs and a bunch of other critters in a tide pool:



Life in the lagoon. Taken between Jaques and Jarvis Islands in the Broken Group, west coast of Vancouver Island, right about here. Lots of sea stars, lots of shells, and a number of red sea cucumbers.

Maligne Lake Trip

I took my second long trip in my 16.5' kayak. This time to Maligne Lake up in Jasper National Park. Its a high mountain lake, glacier fed, with erratic winds and gorgeous scenery. Before setting out I finally named my boat, her name is Sage. Shes been giving me some good advice and guidance along the way.

The view down the lake from Home Bay. My destination was a point just to the left of that mountain in the centre. To the right of it is the Maligne Creek trail, a multi day back packing trip that is probably quite spectacular. The lake narrows beside the mountain, becoming only a couple hundred meters wide.

As you paddle up the valley you go from being surrounded by low hills, to towering peaks, with amazing side valleys opening up. This valley empties out near Four Mile Point, making for some interesting winds. You basically buck a head wind to this point, then it immediately shifts to a tailwind the rest of the lake.

My first and fourth nights were spent Fishermans Bay, located about 14kms from the end of the lake, and pretty close to Spirit Island. The campsite is tucked into the bay on the left hand side of this picture.

Once you get past Spirit Island (which is just behind my kayak in this picture). The lake opens up into a grand vista. The tour boats, which ply the waters on the near end of the lake stop here. So you don't have to deal with their noise, wake and crowds from now on.
It stayed flat calm like this most of the way, but as I neared the far end the wind came up something fierce. Till I was soon taking 3 foot whitecaps over the stern. The situation got more entertaining as I realized that to get to the campsite I would have to take the waves broadside for a bit. I pulled in close to shore so that if I dumped I would have a short swim, and turned my side into the waves. Oddly enough, I didn't capsize. I just bobbed up and down, dropping and rising three feet with each wave. I used my paddle to brace the kayak, and my hips to keep it level, and it felt calm and reassuring. Those Aleuts really knew how to build a kayak.

After taking a bunch of broad side waves, I got sick of the 3 foot drops, so I turned my boat around and ferried across the lake. This gave me a nice downwind surf to Coronet Creek.
Parks has switched from the food hang to the locker system at these sites, so it makes storing your stuff easy. The lockers also function as kayak storage after one learns that there are porcupines inhabiting the area. Leather deck lines that have seen salt water and large rodents don't mix well.

The mornings were quite cold, in part owing to the 1670 meter elevation (5400'). It took a while to work up the courage to hop out of the tent. The rising sun made it worth while though, so I had breakfast out on the dock. Coronet Creek faces out on a wide bowl, surrounded by towering mountains.

On my third day I decided to hop out of the kayak and stretch my legs. There is a trail that runs from the Coronet Creek campsite up the valley to Henry Macleod campground. Its a long trail, about 17kms return, with ~300 meter elevation gain. You travel up parallel to a creek till you hit high meadows, and get close to those glaciers in the distance.

The view back from that shot above. Along the way there are cascades coming down from the peaks, and some amazing twisted folds in the rock.

The creek is quite impressive as well. The only knock for the place, like most of the lake, when the weather gets warm the horse flies come out. I don't mean the regular cute horse flies, I mean the 3cm long take a chunk out of you horse flies. When I was paddling down the lake they were munching on my knuckles. It did become a fun sport though plucking them from the air, or seeing how to bat them into the water with my paddle.

This is the view from the far end of the lake, where the creek pours in. The Coronet Creek campsite is located on the shore on the left hand side of the picture.

Back on the water, heading towards Spirit Island. The valley is just ringed by glaciers and waterfalls.

I tried my hand at fishing again on day four, it was a short trip, just down the shore from the Fishermans Bay campsite. As I got into the narrows I looked down the lake to see a wall of black enveloping the entire valley. I stood for a while to mark its progress, and gauge my required pace to the campsite. It moved slow but wow did it pack some dense rain. On its approach the light in the valley got really gorgeous.

I awoke on my fifth and final day to find a dense blanket of fog covering over the valley. The peaks were gone, and the water was dead calm. Looked more west coast than northern Rocky Mountains.

As I passed through the narrows the fog thickened till the visibility fell to less than 100 meters. I've never tried navigating in fog before, but I read about it once. I avoided the the extra paddling round the bays by heading straight down the lake, trusting in my compass. Its an odd feeling to be enveloped by gray, with no reference points at all. That little magnet on the deck works a treat, and I found my way back to land after a few kilometers.

As I neared the end of the lake the fog was lifting, and the mountains came out to see me off. I was happy to see the last of the fog; the tour boats had started up again. I could hear their motors through the mist, and I prayed that my memory of their previous course was still accurate.
Hitting shore was a shock, it was a long weekend so the crowds were thick. Quite a contrast to my previous five days.

Broken Islands Kayak Trip

When I built my new kayak, one of the design criteria was that it should be suitable for a week long camping trip. This of course means that at some point I would have to test this theory.
Rather than do this in a stages, I decided that a cannonball off the end of the dock would be more productive. So after a bunch of research and reading (checking the water depth before diving) I packed up my car with way too much stuff and headed out to Toquart Bay in Barkley Sound, BC.
The photo to the right shows the gear pile, most of which also functions as a flotation device in case I flood my kayak.

This is the view of Lyall Point from the exit of the channel between the Stopper Islands. Beyond Lyall, you can see the distant island straight ahead, Hand Island, my first destination. I should mention that short of a brief paddle in Vancouver when I was a kid, this is my first time in a kayak on the ocean. Nothing like starting slow.
The crossing was good though, pretty smooth water but its odd when you get out into the swell, and your kayak goes up and down by a meter or more.

This is the view from Dodd Island, across Peacock Channel to the Brabants and Hand Island.
This last leg on the first day proved to be somewhat ill advised. The winds were calm when I started, but picked up fast as I made my way across, before long I was bucking big whitecaps with some slight swell underneath. Wave size is of course hard to judge in a kayak, but they were big enough to cause me to question the wisdom of my choices. To top off the fun, the waves were perpendicular to my planned course, so I ended up adjusting and heading out to the far tip of the island so I could take the waves three quarter on my bow. Turns out though that a fully loaded Aleut kayak is a bloody stable thing, and the only time I felt somewhat nervous was making the turn once I got to the island, so I could surf back down wind to the harbor entrance. I don't have any pictures of any adventurous water, I didn't want to drop my paddle to take photos as I needed to use the blade to brace the kayak and stay upright.


One thing I have to say about the Broken Group, the sunsets are absolutely amazing, this is Dodd island. Made the first days paddle all worth it.
The nice thing about Dodd is that there are lots of guided groups, while on the surface this may sound like a problem, it is important to note that guided groups always have left over food, and its good. I got cake.

I stuck around Dodd for a couple nights, to rest and relax. Did some paddling around but kept to sheltered waters, I was a little shy after getting hit by the wind on my first day. On day three I struck out to move camp to Gibraltar Island, which is located in the more sheltered inner islands. This is an island along the way, unnamed but located near Elbow Rocks.

Midway between Mullins and Dempster Island I found a group of Sea Lions on a rock. I kept a fair distance away so as not to disturb them, but they barked at me regardless and took to the water.

The lagoon between Jaques and Jarvis. Pretty at high tide, but amazing at low tide.

The Treble Islands. Most places in the Broken Group consist of little clumps of islands, with sheltered water in between. There are a few major channels though, which tend to get a little choppy.

View from Gibraltar island campsite. This was a group of kayakers I met the night previous departing. Everyone in the islands is super friendly, you could come with a weeks food and stay for months just on the leftovers of departing kayakers who don't want to lug things home.

Rock near Nettle Island, this one had a mink on it that was fishing for crab.

This is in a narrow channel between Denne and Nettle islands. Once you enter it all you hear is the sounds of birds, specifically the Hermit Thrush, they are on all the islands and have the most beautiful call.

One of the Treble Islands up close. There are little nooks and crannies on near every island, just countless places to explore. This one had a small sand beach at low tide that was covered with mussels and snails.

Between Jaques and Jarvis is a little lagoon, the north west corner of which has a small channel, which at low tide is like paddling through an aquarium. You look down off your boat and there are countless creatures, starfish, bat stars, snails and crabs, and lots of these freaky things, sea cucumbers. Now picture being an naive prairie kid and something like this appearing out of the mirk right below your kayak, I half expected it to leap up and start clawing my face off, and it took me a while to work up the courage to stick my hand in the water to take a few pictures.

Continuing the theme of wacky creatures from the shallow, this is a moon snail. The picture doesn't quite do it justice, you have to see this guy in person, the shell is 4 inches across, and the foot is the size of a dinner plate.

The forest on Gibraltar. Once you get off the water, the islands haven't really been logged, so there are lots of neat woods, no official trails though, so the walking is fun.
I also had this Island all to myself on my fourth night. Its funny how a lot of people told me that it would take five days to get really comfortable, and its totally true, I had all my systems in place, and living was easy so I could just truly enjoy where I was. All my lifes worries faded away and I just was. As someone I met later put it "...you just become part of the tides". Interesting experience, solo wilderness travel is highly recommended.

As a bit of a pastime while out on the islands I carved driftwood, usually into these little watcher figurines which I used to keep an eye on my tent and boat. A lot of these got sent off with various people as presents or thank yous for donated treats. There are tons of pieces of old growth cedar just washed up on the beaches.

Hand Island, around sunset. I think Hand was my favorite island, beautiful white sandy beaches, lots of trails, great tide pools, and people coming and going, and not many staying.

View to the Brabants, if you get out early in the day you can avoid the wind, and its just flat calm out there.

Brabant islands, looking north to hand and the main body of Vancouver Island.

Sea Anemone in a tide pool on Hand Island.

The beach on Hand Island, you can see my campsite in the centre of frame. Rough life, I even had a wooden dinner table with a bench seat.

More hand Island Beach, looking towards Lyall Point, I had this beach all to myself on my last night, great morning and evening sun.

This little spot was just past the Stopper Islands. Looking out at the open ocean, other than the few small islands there isn't a whole lot of land between here and Japan. Something I was cognizant of as I made the open crossing from Hand. You definitely have to trust yourself and your gear, and realize that your survival is up to you alone. Though really, if I got into a real spot I had flares on me, and I was wearing a dry suit, with lots of insulation underneath, so I could just hang out till help arrived.

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Strangely this isn't photoshoped, this is looking across David Channel towards the Mountains. Absolutely amazing scenery, and in the right light you dont see the clearcuts.

Back at civilization, cant say I was overly happy about it, but I met some nice people from Comox who offered me tea and some good conversation. Good way to ease back in.

The kayak, it survived intact and happy, though I now have a lot of sand and grit inside, so I don't think the skin is going to last long, we shall see.
All in all though, I love this boat, the hatches worked like a dream, I could pile a TON of gear inside: 32 litres of water, way too much food for a week, full repair and first aid kits, a spare hammock tent, in addition to a full camping kit and some luxury items like 6 cans of tonic so I could sip G&T's on the beach. She was comfortable through the long days, and took the waves with aplomb, no fuss or anything.
The Aluet paddle is fantastic, tons of support when things are rough, comfy to hold, and motivates the kayak smartly, even when its loaded down. I cant see switching back, except for rivers.