A day in the sea boats, on the Salish Sea...refreshment for body, mind, and spirit.

The sea, once it casts its spell,

holds one in its net of wonder forever.

- Jacques Cousteau

The Salish Sea, Howe Sound, and Mount Garibaldi.

The Tuesday morning skies cleared and the sun, still low in the early January sky, shone brightly...and we launched the "sea boats". I love those words. These narrow craft, weighing just 50 pounds each, and designed to carry one lone occupant, were built for the sea, and for exploration. But they also enable the sea kayaker to investigate the land - both the immediate shoreline so close at hand, and the distant horizons of terra firma.

Sandstone shores of Gabriola Island, sculpted over the millenia.

The tide was just changing as paddles quickly propelled us out of Degnen Bay. Gabriola Island, also known as "Petroglyph Island", for the ancient stone carvings, has extraordinarily mysterious shorelines that have been sculpted by the ocean over time. The sandstone is thought to be 65 million years old. The "sculptures", are a work in progress.

At times, we simply had to drift quietly with the tide...and take it all in.

Gliding out of the bay, the ocean surface was alive with patterns that changed and transformed before our eyes. The invisible tidal force beneath us tugged and then pushed at our submerged paddle blades. Just off the port bow, a whirlpool began to form, quickly growing to a metre and a half in diameter, drawing into its centre the bubbling froth of the confused surface rippling and wind-formed waves. Would it continue to grow into a powerful maelstrom and pull kayak (and "lone occupant"!), spinning uncontrollably, deep into its vortex? What a story Joan would be able to tell!

Joan, paddling the "sea boat"
...and a distant stratovolcano: Mount Garibaldi, a sacred place.

A couple of hours later, feeling the warmth of the sun in the still-chilly 2 degree Celcius air, we paused between the tiny and photogenic Sear and Saturnina Islands. The view is breathtaking across the Salish Sea towards Howe Sound and the snow-capped Coast Mountains - the very edge of the North American continent. Forming a backdrop to the Sound is dramatic Mount Garibaldi, British Columbia's best known volcano. 

The deck marine compass indicated that the mountain was due north from our position. I would have said it was to the east, fooled yet again by the alignment of Canada's coast. To the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh, the local indigenous people of the Squamish area, it is a sacred mountain. It should be to us all, as should all of creation. To gaze upon this unbroken view of a continent is to be deeply moved. The sea and the landscape puts life in perspective. Our lives occupy but an infinitesimal part of this planet...and yet our anxieties and our worries can often seem as immense as the universe! And that is not reasonable...and it is not a healthy state of mind.

A connection with, and an appreciation for the natural world can be one of the most powerful antidotes to anxiety, a condition that plagues so many in our society, with such debilitating consequences. The "outdoors", whatever its mood, calms and creates balance in our lives. One only need go outside, and breath s-l-o-w-l-y and deeply, taking in the sounds, the smells, and the visual stimuli that nourish imaginations and the innermost soul. We are strengthened and refreshed. Going, playing, venturing, exploring, breathing deeply, outside - such a simple source of refreshment and healing. 

Heading home - the sun setting behind Valdez Island 
and the mountains of Vancouver Island.

With the sun beginning to set and nautical miles still to paddle, we retraced our course, following the southern coastline of Gabriola back to our launch spot at Degnen Bay - thankful for the hours on the water and persuaded that time spent "outdoors" is as essential to life as the food we eat and water we drink. I'm sure you will have found the same to be true.

Once again, the sea cast its spell and held two paddlers in its "net of wonder". 

Pax,

Duncan.

Eat porridge, check marine weather, load gear and boats...launch.

Octopus Point and low clouds over Saltspring Island.

Earlier in the week, we sat down to breakfast - a bowl of hot, steaming, porridge. We start just about every day with this very sturdy item. Joan makes a particularly hearty blend that includes Scottish oatmeal (from Bob's Red Mill), fresh ground flax, hemp hearts, chia and maca (keeps energy levels up), blueberries, and blackberries. A bowl of this can sustain you all the way to lunch! Also means you don't have to bother keeping any reading material in the bathroom.

Anyway, following breakfast on this particular day, we loaded up the paddling gear, strapped the kayaks to the top of the High Mobility Kayak Transport Vehicle ("civilian" eyes could be forgiven for mistaking the HMKTV for a for a silver Subaru - everyone does), got into our dry suits...and THEN...checked the weather.

(OK folks, so this wasn't the first time we've paddled - it just sounds like it. The usual (and recommended) order of items on the checklist, prior to a launch, BEGINS with checking the weather. Sure, have the porridge first, but everything else normally follows.)

We were good to go. Unfortunately, however, we learned that so were the 80 kph winds that were forecast to blow into our area around or before the noon hour. Environment Canada was issuing warnings for "potentially damaging winds" and heavy rainfall.

OK. Now what?

Well, if we launch right away we could get two or three hours on the water - so long as the incoming weather doesn't arrive early. Hmm. The plan was to cross over to Saltspring and paddle up to Vesuvius, have lunch on the beach there and then cross back in the afternoon. That meant there was, of course, the potential for getting caught by the incoming winds and being "marooned" on Saltspring Island? That didn't actually sound so bad except that the marine pub at Vesuvius has been closed for years now! And besides,  I had a work-related commitment in the evening. Sure, we could always hitch a ride on the ferry and get back to Crofton on Vancouver Island - but then one of us would have to thumb a ride back to the launch spot to get the HMKTV. People would talk.

After reviewing a number of scenarios, we elected not to go. Disappointed? Yes. But there would be another time.

Entering Sansum Narrows - the mist made it even more magical.

And today there was an opportunity. A small window, opened early this morning and we spent a couple of very therapeutic hours on the water. The skies were grey, the ocean was grey - but sea kayaks have a way of creating their own "sunshine". Every time.

Heading back into Maple Bay, and home.

So there you have it: eat porridge, check marine weather, load gear and boats...launch. That's the right order. :)

Pax,

Duncan.

Additional note, Jan 08: Acting on a tip from Paula, just to the south of us at Kayak Yak, we added a little cinnamon and some walnuts to this morning's porridge - nice! We'll add some raisons tomorrow. Any other tips for a "paddlin' porridge" recipe?