By the next morning there was still no sign of Eva and the sailboat out in the bay, a group of young teenagers from Tacoma on a Search and Rescue course along the coast, helped out. Well they were getting their field training! They broke into two groups and set out along each shore of the lake. The leader had decided to call Search and Rescue and the helicopters flew overhead. But then a Coast Guard zodiac came around the corner with Eva and the dog Coco in it. She had somehow made it over the mountain and had started making her way back to camp along the shoreline, and was only just past the closest point. The zodiac saw her and picked her up. The shoreline was steep so it would have taken here a long time to get over. Anyways, she was back unharmed. It just goes to show how easy it is to get lost if you get overconfident and caught unprepared. She had never been lost before!

I went out and got underwater videos of the moon jelly school in the bay. This turned out well and I was happy about that, since I had missed the opportunity the day before out in the crossing.

I carried my boat up to the lake since I was looking forward to paddling in some fresh water. It had been a nice evening on the lake yesterday and I hoped to get out on it today. However, today was windy, really windy. But I wanted to paddle in fresh water so I went out anyways.

There was interesting lakeshore life with boggy type vegetation growing on the floating logs. Among these plants is sundew, which is adapted to environments with low nutrient availability and instead gets nutrition by trapping insects in sticky hairs on its leaves, and then it digests them.

I passed by the knoll which we had hiked to the previous night. It only took a few minutes by boat, but over half an hour to walk there. It is good that we turned around where we did last night as we would not have gotten aywhere. The headwinds were very strong but I continued on to the second lake.

I paddled past some rocky bluffs that went down to the lake that had interesting mossy dry vegetation.

After reaching the end of the lakes I now had to paddle back against the wind. It was a hard paddle as I crept up the east shoreline, aiming for the northern shore which looked to be in a sheltered lee.

It was beautiful but eerily desolate. I fought my way back to the calm lee at the north end of the second lake. It is marshy here, and a large floating log separates the marsh from the main lake. From a distance I thought this log might be a beach. But no, thre are no beaches on Unwin Lake. I walked along the log and took photos of damselflies and other interesting lakeshore life, waiting for the brief periods of sunshine to get the shots. After a half hour I continued on.

Shortly after heading out again I noticed something shiny in the bushes on the northern shoreline. It was one of those shiny silver balloons that people release and I always wonder where they end up…. And just to the west of here I noticed an opening in the forest coming down to the lake. I thought I might land there and have a look around as there are supposedly native archaeological sites here. But as I approached, all of a sudden I got a very creepy feeling. I thought I could hear voices but then there were none. The wind was bashing the trees overhead. There were no boats or any signs of people around. It was a very strange sensation. I have rarely gotten so creeped out so quickly. I’ve spent lots of time in the wildernesss but his was more than that. I wondered if it had somethign to do with the native sites here. I high tailed it out of there. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me since I had not seen anyone all day anywhere on the lake and the wind was getting to me. I really don’t like wind. I don’t know.

I returned to the head of the first lake with a very strong tailwind and I was able to surf down the big waves for several seconds since my kayak was so light.

The creek running by the campsite had lots of fat little salmon in it and a sculpin which I was able to get video of. The salmon were hanging out at the area of the rocks where everyone comes to wash their plates; that’s why they were so fat and showed little fear of me.

This water is very warm, I’d estimate 20 degrees. And it’s only June, I wonder how high it gets in August. I guess Unwin Lake is shallow and just heats up in the sun. I gave my kayak a good bath in the creek. We had more crabs that night and all sat around George and Eva’s campfire.

The following morning George and Eva headed out fairly early. I was also going to head out but I wanted to go back up to the lake and walk around a bit more to get some videos and photos of me in the forest.

I returned to camp, hoping to catch Bryan and Maggie. They were going to spend another day here and the plan was to meet up in Big Bay in a few nights’ time, as I was going to go up Homfray Channel to the east which would add an extra day to my paddle. But they were nowhere to be seen back at camp.

They were still in their tent, until lunch time! We finally said goodbye and I headed out.

I passed a sailboat coming in and then approached some impressive sheer vertical cliffs plunging to depths I didn’t want to think about.

I tried getting videos but my camera would slowly zoom in and yield useless footage. This is because I bought a housing for a slightly different camera model than what I had because apparently Canon discontinues making the housings for its cameras that are a year old. This means that the camera didn’t fit properly and the zoom lever on the housing gently pushed on the zoom button on the camera. I was getting very frustrated with this since it ruined some otherwise nice videos. I got some short ones of the subtidal life along the vertical cliff as I went along but they didn’t last very long until the camera zoomed in. I also made some lengthy videos with the camera pointing off the front of my boat, which would be of me paddling along the shoreline from one bay to the next, and then if sped up, the viewer would get a time-lapsed idea of what it’s like to paddle here. These would have turned out great, except of course you know what happened…. I was getting so angry. I took a break in the entrance to the little channel which led out to the beginnings of Homfray Channel. I got out my peanut butter and dates and then noticed that my map was in the water, floating about 50 feet away. Ahhhh!!!!

I ate my food and then I went through the narrow channel into the main channel of Desolation Sound and it was so beautiful, and I managed to get some decent videos, with audio even, so I soon calmed down.

But then the weather started to look like it was going to pick up. I could see all the clouds hanging around the mountains to the east where I was heading, getting more and more threatening. To the west was sunshine. This is how it is on the Coast — the mountains trap the clouds and increase rainfall there. This is basically why this region has such a high diversity of ecosystems, ranging from the wet hypermaritime climate on the exposed outer coast, where winter isn’t much different from summer, all the way over the mountains of Vancouver Island to the dry rainshadow climates of Georgia Strait. Then the clouds again get squeezed of moisture when they reach the Coast Range. They get raised higher and higher over ice fields before they again descend down across the dry but cool Chilcotin Plateau of the interior. The Chilcotin is where the polar continental influence becomes more apparent, as winters there are cold and dry. The Coast Mountains form a barrier keeping that cold air away from the Coast, but every once in a while in winter we get the cold outflow winds spilling out to the Coast and freezing everything up for a while until the maritme flow resumes and pushes the polar air masses back into the interior. The Chilcotin Plateau is high too, around 1000 meters. It is bordered by many lakes and valleys leading out from the east side of the mountains which I will explore on the return leg of my trip. Further east, the elevation drops even more down to the Fraser River, and BC even has some dry desert ecosystems. Then the terrain picks up again as you go east from there, leading to another wet belt in eastern BC, followed by the Rocky Mountains, and finally the dry prairies on the lee of those mountains, which go halfway across the continent. And here I was, right in the middle of it all!

So, back to my immediate weather concerns, I could see that I was going to get hit by some wind and rain.

I took refuge behind some protected little islands which turn out to be the other main anchorage for Desolation Sound. Just over the rocks were a few sailboats taking refuge too.

It really is amazing how many oysters there are here. It is not a safe place for an inflatable kayak for this reason! After a short while of snacking on Quaker Harvest Crunch I again returned to paddling and saw an interesting little channel I thought I could go through. However, I grounded my skeg on the bottom which was entirely covered with oysters. Not a smart move. I retreated with no damage. I guess my skeg protects me from getting into too much trouble.

I didn’t get hit too hard with the weather, it was mostly just wind, and when back out in the open, I took note of how much pelagic (free swimming) marine life there is in these waters. It is like pea soup it is so productive. That’s probably also why there are so many oysters! There are jellies everywhere, and millions of little comb jellies or ctenophores on the surface. These have rows of cilia hairs along their bodies which refract sunlight like a prism. They are very beautiful to look at in an aquarium or under a microscope. I have seen them everywhere on this whole trip but especially here, where they seem to raft together on the surface by the hundreds.

I noticed some birds of prey swirling overhead way up in the clouds.

Then I rounded a corner and came face to face with both eagles and buzzards sitting on a log! I pulled out my camera and got some nice shots as the wind pushed me by.

I started to realize how much animal life there is on this planet when you get away from human civilization. It really is another world out there!

The late afternoon light was really nice against the mountains and I had a strong tailwind pushing me up the channel.

I tried trolling for whatever fish were out there but caught nothing. I neared my destination for the day, what seemed to be a bankrupt fishing lodge for sale which had been started but abandoned. And there was an oyster farm right off the shore in the bay. Steep mountains flanked the bay and a nice big creek flowed onto the rocky beach. This area was desolate with few boats coming by, and the oyster farm seemed vacant.

I landed almost on high tide in waves and scrambled to get my stuff organized.

There was a great big grassy area where I could set up the tent but as I arrived I scared a goose away. Apparently the goose was enjoying the grass too and there was crap everywhere. I managed to find a clear spot behind the cedar tree in the above photo and just as I got my tent set up it started to rain hard. It lasted for an hour but I made dinner under my tarp, which I set up just before the rain ended. Oh, and I lost my lure out there somewhere too.

This looked like a risky bear area so I tried to hoist my food up a tree but failed and it got dark and wet so I just put it by my tent and would defend it if anything came by.

In the morning I noticed a little critter the size of a squirrel racing by above the beach. This was some kind of weasel, I will have to ID it later. It had a big white patch on its chest. I walked over to where the creek emptied onto the beach to filter water and fill up my water containers. That water was cold on my feet! Straight down from the snowmelt.

The salt water was pretty choppy and the beach had oysters, so I searched for the most sheltered spot to launch, which was a few hundred meters down the beach to the west. These oysters are a mixed blessing. They can shred your boat and feet, but they provide easy bait for the crab trap.

I spent most of the day paddling up the coast mainland by the big snow capped peaks.

The water here was more devoid of obvious life, and the intertidal was more sparse compared with Desolation Sound. It was clear and dark blue, rather than the pea soup of Desolation Sound. I attribute this to the depth of the channel, as well as the fresh water runoff from the coastal rivers flowing into it from Toba Inlet, which tends to stay near the surface at times and reduce the salinity. Toba is a big inlet with big rivers, but even those can’t penetrate through the Coast Mountains and drain the Interior. I’d have to wait a few days before I got to that inlet….

There was the odd house and fishing lodge but mostly it was uninhabited. There is more parkland up here, obviously with Desolation Sound Marine Park prominent, but the entire eastern peninsula of East Redonda Island is an ecological reserve.

I continud up the eastern side ofthe channel and investigated a high waterfall coming off the mountains straight into the water. There was a rope swing here where youcould jump into the salt water. I didn’t try it out.

At some point I had to cross west over to Redonda Island from the mainland shore and I made the decision to do it, even though it wasn’t at the narrowest point which was a little further on, because the conditions were calm. I thought I should take advantage of my good fortune while I had it. It’s good I did this because literally, as soon as I got close to reaching the opposite shore a strong headwind gust picked up and made it very difficult to paddle. I hopped along the shore from one sheltered bay to the next and rounded the northern point of East Redonda Island.

I had winds for the reast of the paddle, which wasn’t actually much longer anyways, and made it to the sizeable bay which had the campground, next to a logging operations dock. I was now beyond the ecological reserve.

At the camp were four Germans and their guide. I stayed with them and set the crab trap in the wind but caught nothing. Soon the weather picked up even more and became torrential with high winds. They had a big tarp set up among the logs on the upper beach and somehow they managed to keep that together. Good construction! We all huddled under it and watched the storm.

The guide Rory was kind enough to offer me some dessert, even though I had lots of my own food. Sweet apple crumble, wow. He knows how to take care of his guests. I also stuffed myself on dal and I added my own rice to beef it up.

Rory said he was planning to kayak up to Haida Gwaii next summer with some friends. He asked about Homfray Channel since he hadn’t been down there before and I mentioned there were suitable camping sites along much of the eastern shore, in the big bays. I said a few looked like they might have bears but I didn’t see any. He seemed to try to end that topic quickly, I presume to not worry the guests. He said that the kayak up Toba Inlet was spectacular, and that there was a campsite on some rocks underneath a huge steep mountain.

There was not much space in this campsite and they had taken the main open area. There was another older tent site which had become partially overgrown so I took out my axe and hacked it back.

In the morning I felt bloated and I saw the Germans off. I would be a little slower getting packed up.

The sun was poking through so I set up my solar panel on the rocks and took some photos.

I finally got going but I was not feeling any less bloated. The oatmeal I had for breakfast sure didn’t help either, and only added to the rice. I felt like I was going to throw up.

I just paddled weakly along the shore in nice calm seas for a few hours. The water had become turquoise blue from the glacial runoff from Toba Inlet.

I was hoping that the currents would be going swiftly my way and that I could just lie back and snooze for a half hour at a time as I floated along. But they weren’t strong enough and I gradually became stronger myself so I put effor tinto paddling, in order to take advantage of the currents before the tide changed. There was the odd explosion rattlign the whole area, from forestry workers blasting rock for road building. I was hoping to intercept Bryan and Maggie at the channel separating East and West Redonda Islands, since they were planning to come through there that morning, but I didn’t see them. I passed a few other kayakers.

After a few hours I started to feel much stronger and the currents really started pushing me along.

I made good time and rounded the northern point of West Redonda Island to reach the channel separating it from Raza Island, which I would have to cross. I made some neat videos with the current taking me along the steep shoreline as I looked down at saucer sized moon jellies. I took a break and filled up on dates and peanut butter, then crossed uneventfully.

I passed along Raza Island and crossed again to a peninsula of the mainland that sticks out. I rounded the point into the bay with my planned campsite, a nice cobble beach, but there was no cleared campsite in the bushes. There was a spot above the high tide line on the cobbles so I checked the tide table and the high would be at 8 pm that night, with the low in the middle of the night being lower, so I was safe. I enjoyed some curry dinner as I sat in the big logs and watched boats going by.

The next morning I said goodbye to the last arbutus trees as the climate was getting wetter from here on, and I had a short paddle into Big Bay on Stuart Island. I had to cross the entrance to Bute Inlet, which Stuart Island fits into like a plug. I later found out that Bute Inlet gets to 700 meters deep here. The boat traffic was noticeably heavier because this is one of only two locations which allow passage north and south along the coast. The other is adjacent to Vancouver Island, on the other side of Sonora Island.

This is an interesting place because everything gets funnelled through here — the boats, the log booms, the water, and the salmon. The northern portion of Georia Strait gets funnelled through these two openings when the tides change, so the water really gets going! There are some very dangerous rapids leading into Big Bay, which must be negotiated at the right tide. Whirlpools seven feet deep can develop and swallow kayaks. The books all warn to be very careful here. I was approaching at the beginning of the ebb tide and I stopped near a very swanky lodge to ask a guy on the dock, a chef, about the rapids. He didn’t know much about them.

I went anyways and had some fun getting whipped around the points and carried into Big Bay. More and more ultra swanky resorts showed up. Wow, what a place. All of them had No Trespassing signs.

This is also an interesting point on my trip because Bute Inlet hosts the second river, after the Fraser, which drains from the Interior out to the Coast. So far , which is differentfon my trip, all of the rivers leading down to the salt chuck have drained the west side of the mountain range, but here, the Homathko River drains parts of the interior Chilcotin Plateau (Tatlayoko Lake, which is different from the other similar lakes it has as neighbours because they all drain eastwards into the Fraser system). I have no time to go up Bute Inlet; it’s way too far, but I plan to hit Tatlayoko Lake and the Homathko River on my way back down next year as I mountain bike my way through the Chilcotin mountain wilderness along the many trails in the region. I also plan to tow a smaller kayak with me and use this to cross lakes when I need to.

I arrived at the public dock in Big Bay to see Bryan and Maggie greeting me! They had just arrived and had only been a little ways ahead of me for the last couple days! I must have just missed them as they came through the channel between the Redonda Islands.

I learned that Big Bay had very few supplies despite all the swanky resorts around. The store opened from 4 pm to 5 pm and had only dried and canned food, but that was enough. I got some canned chunky soup, crackers, honey, peanut butter, fishing lures, and of course chocolate bars.

Apparently Big Bay has been around for a while and anyone who’s anyone has been there. Royalty and Bill Gates have visited. Since everything gets funnelled through the channel here, including the salmon, it offers great salmon fishing opportunities, especially of the runs originating out of Bute Inlet. It’s a great place to build a fishing resort!

The “resort” across the water was London Drugs’ corporate retreat, and Denny Washington has two, a personal and a corporate retreat. We watched a couple helicopters fly in, circle the bay, and land at London Drugs. Then a bunch of greeters went up to meet them so they must have been important people. I got out my long lens like the paparazzi.

Bryan and I caught some ling cod off the dock and one of the guys working at one of the lodges brought over two huge slabs of salmon! We ate well that night, over the fire pit on the lawn! We pitched our tents in the covered area next to the store. And at one point a couple whale watching boats unloaded and everyone came up to eat their lunch on the tables near our stuff. These are very powerful zodiacs out of Campbell River and they go all over the place chasing the whales, guided by radios from planes and other guides. We talked and then as they left, they left their food with us!

 

While in Powell River I had seen a video posted on the internet by Alastair Humphreys, international man of adventure (he rode his pedal bike around the world), of a kayaking day trip he and some others took to a spot off the coast of England. They caught fish and camped out on the beach and made a great video of the day, and I wondered why I was having such a hard time getting similar video. I asked him what equipment he used and it was a GoPro HD Point-of-View surfboard cam. I ordered one and I’m looking forward to picking it up from my mom in Telegraph Cove in a couple weeks. The problem with my video camera housing is it’s way too big to just throw anywhere and get interesting angles. I need something much smaller in addition to mine. This GoPro camera is made to mount on surfboards and it gives a really wide angle.

I was itching to get out of town and my camera mounting system was now operational so I left Powell River campground the same day as Brian and Maggie, but around 3 pm, a few hours after they did, despite aiming to get out at the same time. I always seem to underestimate how long it will take to pack up after I’ve been in one spot for a few days. My stuff just gets everywhere. Plus there is a long walk out to the dock at the end of the pier.

I had some nice winds helping me northwards and I soon passed the big pulp mill at the mouth of Powell River. There is a small dam on the river and the mill encircles the river and uses the water coming out for its processes. That would never be allowed to go ahead today. This mill is either a pulp or paper mill I believe, since it restructured for the economic downturn. Since it didn’t stink, I presume it is a paper mill. Kraft pulp mills stink because of the sulphur used in the chemical process which releases methyl mercaptan, which is structurally the same as methanol alcohol but with a sulphur instead of an oxygen in the molecule, which makes it stinky, like all sulphur chemicals. The smell isn’t unhealthy, just stinky. The mills have actually cleaned up their effluent quite a bit over the last few decades, to the point where it isn’t even much of a concern anymore.

I have a mixed opinion of BC’s forest industry. On one hand, it is essentially a renewable and sustainable resource and industry, and it maintains the land in a state similar to what it would be naturally. Most other countries sell off most of their forests for agriculture or real estate. On the other hand, we have not been managing it sustainably, and we cut way too many of our forests down, going in and despoiling wilderness areas that we should never have gone into in the first place. And poor management hurts salmon which spawn it the streams. And we have also started selling off our forest lands…. so all in all, I think we could do much much better, and we seem to be moving in that direction. I wonder though if the recent collapse in demand for forest products has something to do with that supposed improved management…. or maybe we’ve already cut down all the valuable timber….

I wondered where Bryan and Maggie would end up tonight, probably Savary Island. I passed Harwood Island which is owned by the local first nations band. I heard through the grapevine that they consider it bad luck to go to the island, so it remains essentially completely undeveloped, covered in forest. Only kayakers go over there.

I soon passed Sliammon, the local native village, and after that more endless rows of waterfront houses.

At approximately opposite Savary Island, it was getting near dark and a bit rough so I opted to find a cove to camp. Nothing seemed overly inviting so I chose the most hospitable one without a No Trespassing sign. I stopped at one with interesting red rocks for a beach. It looked nice from the water but from shore it had a 10 foot high cliff I had to scale with all my stuff, but above this was a decent grassy bluff with nodding onion and Brodiea lilies. It started to rain a bit so I set my tent up fast. Then it all smelled a pleasant aroma of onions all night. I also noticed a No Trespassing sign on the other side of the small cove, and could hear people the next cove over, so I lay low that night, only eating an energy bar and some other non-cooked food. I would get up early and head out soon. I was also not too happy about setting my tent up on this nice grassy ecosystem, but the rain made all the lichen soft and pliable so I didn’t do too much damage.

In the morning I took off early to strong tailwinds and soon passed by the source of the human noise I heard the evening before – a pubic campground in the next cove over! I would not have been able to land, however, since it was a steep shoreline with access only from the road. So I probably was not on private property the night before after all. I took some photos of eagles in a tree but it was too rough to get any nice shots. I soon got to Lund, the last sizable establishment on the Sunshine Coast. I stopped in for breakfast at a café which was nice, but pricey.

Lund is the official end of Highway 101 up the Pacific Coast of North America and they have a marker to signify this.

Then I headed out for the Copeland Islands Marine Park, which is just a couple kilometres up the coast. I saw some kayakers and hoped they were Bryan and Maggie but they weren’t. I soon came to a great campsite on an isthmus between two of the southern islands in the group, with a bay on one side facing the open Georgia Strait, and the other a long oyster covered beach facing the protected waters next to the mainland.

I had only gone about 5 km so far but I decided to camp here because it was such a nice spot. I would have all afternoon to get some underwater footage with my video camera.

I set up camp and then noticed that the plug which I used to seal up the microphone audio jack on my video housing was missing, so I couldn’t put the housing underwater. I got very frustrated and decided to make one with crazy glue and a piece of wood, and a male fitting I had as well. This took up most of the time I would have spent getting footage and by that time it was to late, the light wasn’t that great. And in the evening the mosquitoes got very bad. But in the bay was a little island on which a pair of oystercatcher shorebirds had a chick. They would take turns gathering a variety of shellfish to bring back, and always had a noisy greeting when they returned. Every once and a while they would go for a fly around with their neighbours from another cove for a few minutes and the whole episode was very noisy for several minutes, but I love the sound of these birds. I tried recording it with my video camera and hopefully the wind didn’t overwhelm the sound.

That reminds me, I also ordered an Edirol audio recorder which has a windscreen. This will record nice audio files for me, and I can also use it instead of a microphone plugging into the video camera which is a pain – too many wires and things to go wrong. With the audio recorder and camcorder I can simply make two separate files, one audio and one video, and worry about bringing them together with software later.

I was hoping the oystercatchers would sing me to sleep but they quieted down at dusk. Then I heard some people rowing over and speaking loudly. It was some Americans up in their sailboats coming to shore to use the outhouses. They seemed to like skipping stones on the beach. Another group came after them, and they were on their way to the Queen Charlotte Islands.

In the morning I planned to spend a couple hours with the underwater housing (using the original plug I found when I packed up camp). I have to make a point to be very mentally sharp always on this trip. I am normally a bit absent minded but I can’t be this way with so much equipment sitting right beside salt water in my kayak, when every mistake gets amplified to bigger proportions that could be very costly.

While out in the kayak I found I could get pretty close to the oystercatchers, like 20 feet away on the island and they didn’t seem to mind. I got some great shots.

And I also got some good shots of a kingfisher which are normally very skittish and don’t let you get very close. There are tons of them all along the coast. They are related to kookaburras from Australia and they are territorial, each one sitting on a branch overlooking the water. When you paddle along they take off and make lots of cackling noises and fly ahead to their neighbour’s territory where they make even more noise.

The underwater camera worked OK, but it seems to have a problem focussing too close on the bits of stuff in the water reflecting the sunlight, and the camera has no way to manually set the focus. That’s a bit of a bummer. Maybe in cloudy weather it will focus better. I also took some photos of bees in the lilies and various other subjects, and I left very happy about my shots of the oystercatchers.

I again had nice tailwinds pushing me up through the Copelands and I went by some schools of moon jellies and a huge school of thousands of little herring. I got underwater footage of this. This is a beautiful area and I can see why it is a park.

I was really starting to enjoy being away from the strips of waterfront houses and then I got to the north end of the Copelands and saw the signs for waterfront lots for sale on the mainland side. I was sickened.

It seems with all the other land developed further south that development will be pushing all the way to the top of the peninsula. I was a little less sickened when I realized this was part of Bliss Landing, the last point of civilization for a while, and where I planned to stop and recharge my camera batteries, since my solar panel had stopped working on them after a week’s use before Powell River. I was pretty upset at Canon since they do not make a low voltage charger for their camcorder batteries and I had to order three more batteries to pick up in Telegraph Cove. I think the problem is when I try to charge the batteries when it is only partially sunny and the cloudy periods confuse the electronics in the battery and make it think it’s getting charged when it isn’t.

Bliss Landing seemed like a nice place and when I arrived no one was around.

I hauled my camera gear up to the house and looked for an outlet.

Then a guy appeared who was very friendly and he offered me free internet and free power in the library room, and free showers if I wanted. Wow, what a generous offer. I think he was helping me out on my big trip and in a few weeks there would be many more kayakers on local trips in this location so he was being nice to me. But Bliss Landing certainly lived up to its name.

I left and was again pushed by tailwinds up around the northernmost tip of the Sunshine Coast Peninsula, beyond any roads. I was elated. And the currents were going my way too.

I made really good time and camped in a bay shortly around the corner. This area had a forest fire on the dry bluffy point the year before from careless kayakers. It was interesting walking around this burned forest, which would be more common around here naturally except we put out fires as soon as they happen, which then results in a buildup of dead fuel on the ground, making any fires that do happen more intense.

I camped at a spot up in the moist unburned trees at the head of the cove and had a big dinner of lasagna. I had a beautiful sunset that evening and got some good shots looking up the channel to the east of Cortes Island leading all the way up to Stuart Island and Big Bay, my next destination. But I was not going to take this direct route, instead going through Desolation Sound and the channels adjoining the mainland and Coast Mountains.

Now having kayaked up the Sunshine Coast, I can give my opinion about the degree of wildland protection there. I was quite dismayed by the extent of private waterfront real estate development. Basically, the entire length of the Sunshine Coast mainland which faces Georgia Strait is lined with private houses. There are a few exceptions with small isolated parks in a few areas, but it’s mostly unbroken. The lack of waterfront parkland between Gibsons and Sechelt is ridiculous, with only a few small dots, forcing all kayakers to camp in what amounts to little more than a 300 foot wide lot, along with all the other locals who come there because it is one of only a few places to access the water. There are more parks inland which is good (some of those parks protect higher elevation old growth forests), but these are not waterfront coastal ecosystems. And there are a few more parks on the offshore islands like on Thormanby, but still not much, and in my opinion it is tragic what we have allowed real estate developers to do to this coast. They have definitely left their legacy on our coastline for future generations… there is no going back. Once you turn wildlands into private real estate, IT’S GONE, for good!

The larger islands in the Strait like Texada are still relatively undeveloped and offer opportunities for more parkland creation, but still this is a different ecosystem than the mainland. There is one exception, however, and that is Nelson Island. This remains a jewel on the Sunshine Coast. In my opinion we should be doing everything we can to turn as much of it as possible into parkland. It is mostly provincial forestry land, and our governments have a habit of selling that land type off for real estate development when there is revenue to be made from this. Nelson Island is officially an island, but sits nicely in Jervis Inlet by the mainland like a wedge. It supports lots of bears and large mammals, and there is very little residential development on it. In my opinion protecting Nelson Island should be a top priority for Sunshine Coast conservationists.

The next day I headed out to Desolation Sound and was dismayed that there were even waterfront houses here too, on some legacy private land.

But I managed to put these behind me and crossed a large bay to get towards my destination for the day, Tenedos Bay at the end of the protected part of Desolation Sound.

At one point in the crossing I looked down and noticed that I was getting into shallow water with a large pebble beach beneath me, but then I noticed that this was instead a very dense school of moon jellies! I decided not to take video since it was pretty windy. I went along the north-facing southern shoreline which is shaded from the harsh sun, which promotes lots of intertidal life. I had a fantastic time playing with my underwater housing while the current pushed me along past the prolific marine life on this shore at low tide. I saw a vermillion star out in the intertidal which I was not at all expecting since these are usually found deeper.

I got to Tenedos Bay after a final chow down on some Quaker Harvest Crunch. It was low tide and there are oyster beds everywhere. There is a lake called Unwin Lake only a few hundred meters up from the bay and I was hoping to line my canoe up the river leading to it. Not likely! Oysters everywhere and not much water.

There is a very nice campsite there though. I soon saw some people coming up the bay paddling a canoe! It turns out they had been following and keeping pace with me for a few hours. They had a dog in their canoe too. They were George and Eva, who have lots of experience in the wilderness and taking underwater footage while scuba diving. They were very interested in my setup and had lots of stories and things to talk about. Eva took the dog for a walk up to the lake shortly before Bryan and Maggie showed up! What a great evening. We threw my crab trap in the water and caught lots of red rock crabs.

In the evening Bryan and Maggie and I went fishing for trout in the lake.

We caught nothing and I returned. Unfortunately Eva was not able to enjoy the crabs since she never came back from her walk to Unwin Lake that evening. She is a very experienced outdoors person and we were getting more and more worried as the evening progressed. Eventually darkness came and there was no sign of her. Unwin Lake is a two-lake affair, with the second lake joined by a narrows and then curving back around towards the salt water to the south. We thought she had gotten thrown by this. And the trail around the lake gets very rough and non-existent fairly fast. We weren’t sure what to do. At midnight all four of us headed out to the lake in a fine drizzle and hiked about a kilometre past the head of the lake on the very rough trail, often getting thrown off course. We were careful not to get lost as well. We were yelling for her and the echoes came back off the mountains but we heard nothing. We were concerned. Hopefully the rain would stay away since she had nothing, not even a flashlight. And she was in shorts. But she did have a furry dog.

After an hour of this we decided it was futile so we turned back and went to bed.