{"id":11865,"date":"2017-02-04T10:00:04","date_gmt":"2017-02-04T18:00:04","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/community.nrs.com\/?p=11865"},"modified":"2017-02-07T11:37:14","modified_gmt":"2017-02-07T19:37:14","slug":"vancouver-island-your-next-sea-kayaking-trip","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/2017\/02\/04\/vancouver-island-your-next-sea-kayaking-trip\/","title":{"rendered":"Vancouver Island: Your Next Sea Kayaking Trip"},"content":{"rendered":"

I got an email the other day from a man named Riccardo. He\u2019s preparing to paddle the Gulf Coast from Cancun to Miami and wanted my advice. What struck me wasn\u2019t the extreme distance between the long, gracefully curving coastline at nearly 3,000 miles, but the amount of maritime busy-ness he\u2019d be paddling through. I\u2019ve had my share of paddling past supertankers, fish farms, marinas and yacht clubs, power boaters churning the water to a froth, and sleeping on government wharves with drunks raising hell into the wee hours. I won\u2019t make that mistake twice.<\/p>\n

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But the note from Riccardo got me thinking. What is it Ricardo was looking for on a trip like this? Why would you want to paddle through a morass of marine commerce? To get somewhere, I suppose. But when I think on it, I come up with three reasons: 1) Because the objective sustains the effort to achieve it. 2) Because you aren\u2019t bothered by the activity. 3) Because you didn\u2019t thoroughly vet your options.<\/p>\n

Me, I\u2019m looking to paddle through natural paradise, not the fringe of civilization. I realize we\u2019re all a little different on the issue. I wouldn\u2019t want to run into a gazillion of you out there in any case. But if my thoughts on the subject here are of value to even one of you, it\u2019s worth it to me to have bothered putting them down.<\/p>\n

When it comes to ocean kayaking in the northwest, particularly the remote, wild and open variety, the British Columbian coast is the place.<\/p>\n

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The Destination: The Northwest Coast of Vancouver Island
\n<\/strong>Initially, girlfriend brought me out to Vancouver Island with her intrepid friends. After that first taste,<\/em> I spent a good while exploring the outer coast of the island, and absolutely loved it. Figuring the grass might be greener farther north, I hitched a ride on a buddy\u2019s fishing boat and spent a month and a half paddling around Chichagof Island in Southeast Alaska. But even though Alaska is remote,\u00a0there were plenty of floating fishing lodges, fish camps and troller fleets in evidence, not to mention the\u00a0bugs, bears, low-pressure systems and powerboats. Vancouver Island was the place to be.<\/p>\n

Vancouver Island is big. It\u2019s the largest off the west coast of North America, and is comparable in size to the Netherlands or Taiwan. The extreme northern portion of Vancouver Island alone has a couple hundred miles of north Pacific ocean and shorefront that look and feel the same as they did from time immemorial. The weather is surprisingly mild, boasting typically warm, dry summers. The water, of course, is cold. Kayakers dress for immersion and staying warm means staying alive.<\/p>\n

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The inside of the island has many popular, but protected, paddling venues, with the major sounds on the south coast offering numerous islets and islands and semi-protected water. You\u2019ll camp with other kayakers in season in Clayoquot and be subject to park regulations in Barkley. The west side of the island is open to the vast north Pacific. The more primal kayaking scene with fewer people and fewer regs, will be in Kyuquot Sound and points farther north. Only two rugged logging roads penetrate the mountainous interior of the island to reach this lonely country.<\/p>\n

Popular paddling windows stretch from June through September with August being your best bet for hot and dry. You might turn blue in the water in minutes but your feet will turn red in the sand in seconds. No matter the season, storms are always a possibility. Bring quality shelter and filter all drinking water. Build fires in the tidal zone as much as possible, bury human waste and burn your toilet paper. Respect First Nations ongoing presence in the area and leave no trace of your passing.<\/p>\n

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Gear Overview: The Boat, Apparel, and Accessories
\n<\/strong>The kayak is a unique craft, and the perfect vessel to travel the open coast, surf onto empty beaches and drag it into the driftwood for safekeeping at night. For those who are less excited about the \u2018getting there\u2019 than the destination, and not willing to commit to the training necessary to responsibly paddle the open coast in a conventional style boat, there\u2019s the sit on top kayak. While not as sleek or fast as their sit-inside cousin, sit-on-tops replace an open hull with a closed one, and a challenging self-rescue technique with a simple one.<\/p>\n

Sea kayaking in cold water can be more or less a technical experience. The spectrum of gear options is largely determined by the style of boat you choose. The conventional sit-inside kayak\u2014the baidarka of the Aleuts, Inuit and Greenlanders\u2014sits at the top of the tech scale. If you don\u2019t know the ins and outs of this style of boat, I wouldn\u2019t recommend paddling the open coast in one.<\/p>\n

When sea kayaking you\u2019ll be exposed to the elements, and a sudden twist of fate could result in an icy swim, so wear something warm and waterproof. A wet suit or dry suit is the top choice, really, because you should always dress for immersion. Never leave the shore without your PFD with a VHF radio clipped to it. Fill your pockets with a Clif Bar or three, for calories in a pinch. Clip a Nalgene of water to your deck or stow a bladder in your cockpit.<\/p>\n