Paddling bliss: 'Twas in the "snow" of wintertime.

My paddling partner, patiently waiting.

So...this is south Vancouver Island where, here in the "Warmland", we are accustomed to a year-round "Mediterranean" climate. That normally translates into a green Christmas, with the most frequent mention of "snow" being in reference to the delicate "snow drops" (flowers) that begin to poke up through the soil in the garden about now.

The usual December rains run happily down the fronds of island palms. We had, incidentally, a very nice palm tree out front, amidst the Douglas Fir. I had carefully nurtured and protected it, over the years, until the resident deer defied all reasonable expectations...and ate it. Sigh...

Pretending not to look, the waiting HMKTV
had a trick up its sleeve for our return...to turn a kayak into a toboggan!

Having said all this, Christmas Day dawned this year with some snow in the forecast. Snow? Here, on Canada's "Pacific Island"? Although, admittedly, not great for travellers, it did strike me as rather cool to have some snow on the ground. Hmm...with morning formalities concluded and a good number of hours before supper, what to do? Launch? Yes, that would be perfect.

There was a special peacefulness as snowflakes 
silently kissed the waters of Sansum Narows.

Launching at Maple Bay, we headed over to Saltspring Island. The 30 minute crossing, light flakes falling silently in the water around us, was simply magical. Paddling another forty-five minutes or so towards Vesuvius,  however, we had a sense that visibility over the Narrows might decrease dramatically so crossed back to the "big" Island. Curious seals and sea otters popped up around us and bald eagles piped their high-pitched "whistling" from atop tall cedars, all presumably extending their cheerful "season's greetings" to the two lone kayakers.

Refreshed and invigorated by the cool air and falling snow and sustained by a high-energy "Garibaldi cookie", it was time to head back to Maple Bay and our waiting HMKTV (High Mobility Kayak Transport Vehicle: Civilian designation: Subaru). Interestingly, the large flakes had begun to form an unusual sub-surface "slush" in the sea water. All we were missing were the "bergy bits", tiny ice bergs that would transform our usual Mediterranean landscape into an "Arctic-like" seascape.

Smiling...and blissfully unaware of the events that were about to unfold!

Little did we know that the whole time we were away, the silver-grey HMKTV had been plotting some  interesting mischief. It must have known that we would be in a hurry to get our Vancouver Island-spoiled bodies back into the warmth of the vehicle and that we might not take the time to remove the layer of snow from the kayak cradles...before setting the boats in them.

Minds still enjoying the endorphin-laden "afterglow" of paddling (kayakers will understand this experience) - we didn't take the time.

Hoisting the first kayak (mine) onto the cradle, it instantly slid forward on the layer of snow at an alarming rate of speed - and towards the hood of the HMKTV - en route to the concrete retaining wall mere inches from the front bumper!

Thankfully, my always-alert  paddling partner was able to adroitly re-capture the stern grab handle, quickly halting its descent into what would have been an embarrassing incident to explain to an insurance agent - while I looked on, open-mouthed and imagining the result of the bow of my relatively-new kayak striking an immovable wall. That would have happened, of course, after it rebounded off the hood of the silver-grey Subaru. Yes, it appears I was completely immobilized by "can-this-really-be-happening!" for a rather critical moment.

Thank you Joan. :)

We took a few minutes to clear all remaining cradles before loading Joan's boat on the racks. That process was, thankfully, uneventful.

Lessons learned: stay focused; be present in the moment; maintain situation awareness; take time to remove any snow from cradles before loading kayaks, most especially when vehicle is parked on a slope! Sheesh.

The time on the water, however, "in the snow of wintertime"...was wonderful.

Duncan.


Thank you to Jean de Brébeuf, author of the original lyrics of the "Huron Carol ("'Twas in the Moon of Wintertime") in 1643. The post title, is only meant to be "close". It's a wonderful Canadian carol!

Wishing you peace at Christmas...and many wonderful adventures.

At this special time of the year, we want very much to acknowledge all who have touched and enriched our lives through this unique medium. To all those who share their stories, their adventures, their dreams and even their struggles, their amazing images, and some darn good "gear" reviews...thank you so much. Your reflections, on both life and the outdoor pursuits we all cherish so much, have created a meaningful connection and a warm bond for which Joan and I are deeply thankful. Over the years, we have become a small "community", and we draw strength from our shared experiences.

May adventures continue to roll in!

To those who visit this little blog regularly, or just now and again, thank you for "listening" and for allowing us to share with you our passion, not only for the world "outside", but for much that makes life on this marvellous planet a "journey", filled with meaning, value, and purpose. We are humbled that folks would stop by to spend a little time with these words, thoughts, and images...they represent a piece of who we are and we deeply value each and every opportunity to share them in this way. Our hope is that there will always be a little something here that touches you, or sparks a thought or a smile.

The essence of celebrations in many traditions at this time of the year is love, an element of the human experience that all people everywhere need in order to feel whole. Our wish this Christmas is for all in our world to feel valued, respected, needed, and cared for - and that this extraordinary "island" planet, will experience only the gentle nurture and stewardship of its human passengers.

We wish you peace, in this very moment, and in the New Year to come...and, of course, many wonderful adventures!

With warm wishes,

Duncan and Joan.


The fabric art (top image) hangs in a prominent place in our home. Created by Joy and Evelyn, it reminds us each and every day of the special environment in which we live, but also of the joy of the "shared adventure". We cherish and are deeply thankful for that reminder.

Paddling through December...when "seas" are grey and cold.

If we make it through December

everything's gonna be all right I know.

It's the coldest time of winter

and I shiver when I see the falling snow.

- from a song by Merle Haggard.

I fell asleep last night...hoping to be doing this today.

On this, the second shortest day of the year (by just five seconds), the waters of the Salish Sea off Gabriola Island were grey and looking very cold this morning. The snow-capped Coastal Mountains on Canada's mainland were just barely visible through the soft mist. The thermometer on the deck indicated it was a cool 2 degrees C. It was tempting to just light a fire in the wood stove, snuggle back in, and enjoy a second cup of coffee. A light rain was falling. The air, however, was quiet. The winds were forecast to increase but not until later in the afternoon. This was our "window" of opportunity to get out on the water. Joan (who is always right) assured me that it would be worth the effort. We've learned, after all, that some of the best days on the water are the ones that take a little extra "will"power.

The gear was ready and waiting in the HMKTV (High Mobility Kayak Transport Vehicle) and it didn't take long to get suited up and to the launch site at Descanso Regional Park.

Final check...launch time.

In no time, we were on the water, paddling out of the bay, and sharing the vast water with ghostly ships at anchor in Nanaimo Harbour.

An hour or so passed, but the time felt like mere moments. The rain drops were mesmerizing as they danced on the surface of the Salish Sea around us. Soon we approached Entrance Island and its "picture perfect postcard" lighthouse, the familiar barking of sea lions welcoming (or, perhaps, warning?) our two yellow kayaks.

Joan - in between a "rock" (Entrance Island) and a tug boat.

An ocean-going tug "sped" past on its way to pick up some business on nearby Vancouver Island, leaving us to enjoy its passing wake.

What goes down...

...comes happily up!

After a couple of hours of paddling, it was definitely time to have a "nutrition" break and what better treat than a "Garibaldi Cookie" from the Slow Rise Organic Bakery on Gabriola Island. We look across to Mt. Garibaldi from the cabin and, believe me, the "cookie" is as impressive as the mountain! :)

The "Maverick" paddling gloves provide the fingers 
sufficient dexterity to open a "zip-lock" bag. Sweet!

"Garibaldi Cookies" from Gabriola Island's
Slow Rise Organic Bakery - mmmm!

Rounding the end of the Island, we could feel the wind freshening. As if to keep up, the rain increased with renewed vigour, the large drops bouncing gleefully off the water. Paddling in the rain is always a special treat. The sea and the sky were grey but the brightly coloured kayaks added colour, warmth, and cheer to the wintry seascape.

Splashes of colour in a colourless environment.

This is a very special time of the year...but not for all. For all too many, the Christmas season will be marked by continued struggle and recent heartbreak. Hunger and homelessness, acts of violence and the news of a frightening diagnosis shake us to the very core. In the midst of all this, the peace, joy, hope, and love of Christmas are elements of human experience that humankind yearns for, whether we embrace a particular faith tradition or none at all. In our most hopeful moments, we believe it is, somehow, within our grasp.

I reflected on how our tiny, but brightly coloured, ocean-going kayaks are able to transform the "grey" winter environment of the Salish Sea. Perhaps that is a calling to each of us this season - to bring, in every way that we can, colour, warmth, and cheer to the world wherever it is grey and cold and threatening. That's the way we'll make it through December...and through every moment of time to come.

There's a very big smile under the "hood". :)

I believe in the power of peace, joy, hope, and love - and I know that it is within our grasp to enrich the human landscape when we live our lives with deep understanding and brave compassion. If a tiny sea kayak can bring colour and texture to a mighty ocean, then the human spirit, at its very best, can touch and transform a "December" world. We'll all "paddle" through.

Duncan.


Postscript: I struggled with whether or not to make comment on this blog on an issue that has touched so many this past week. I feel I can do no other and so add my small voice to those who feel a sense of deep sadness and revulsion in response to the position taken by the National Rifle Association (NRA) with regards to the safety of school children. Surely the 4.3 million members of the NRA cannot subscribe to the dark and disturbing stated position of their leadership? More guns as a solution? How incredibly shameful.