The fog began to lift as the water taxi bounced across the swell of Toquart Bay towards the Broken Islands Group. As if in a dream the myriad islands appeared through the mist in the distance, some standing like isolated sentries at the gates to the open ocean. Slowly the boat curled around Dodd Island, our destination, towards a beautiful white sand beach. Because of the impact of overcrowding on sensitive environmental and cultural sites, the Canadian park service allows camping only eight specific beaches throughout the islands. A few hundred yards away, the beach on Willis Island was clearly filling up with campers, but Dodd Island looked completely empty. Cheryl and I were on our honeymoon and decided to go the luxurious route of taking the water taxi. This saved us a potentially rough crossing and allowed us to bring more gear for our four day stay in the Brokens; for instance, survival gear such as our cooler filled with beer, wine and steaks (hint: good wine is hard to find on Vancouver Island).
We pulled unto the beach, the fog lifted completely and the camp was empty—a perfect start to the honeymoon. “I guess the camping spots are back in the trees there?” I asked Hank, the water taxi skipper. “Oh no” he replied “the camping beach is on the other side of the island.” “Then why are we on this side?” I queried. Hank proceeded to tell me (only now!!) that the park service prohibits water taxis from dropping people off at the camping beach. Seems they were having problems with people coming to camp with lawn furniture, pets and… no boats! While I agreed with this policy in the abstract, it was difficult to learn about it on a beach now littered with four kayaks worth of gear, a couple dry bags and a 30 pound, two by two by three foot cooler.
We decided to join the horde at Willis Island as it was much closer than the other side of Dodd. We ferried our gear and fortunately, the wind was nil, the water sheltered and the crossing short. On the last ferry I looked long and hard at the cooler. How to get it across? I suppose I could empty its contents into our few dry bags and thus disperse the load. I thought “What is the BASK thing to do?” With the decisiveness of a Dave Littlejohn hand of god rescue, I pulled out some bungie cords and strapped the cooler, contents and all, right onto the back deck of the boat (and I thought recessed back decks were for lay back rolls!). Slowly I slipped onto the water. Stability? Surf ski at best. I pushed out and faced the 1 knot wind and menacing, glassy water figuring that even if I went over, the buoyancy of the cooler would prevent a complete capsize and I could paddle on my side to Willis. Fortunately it didn’t come to that and to the amazement of the yakers on Willis (some cheered) I pulled onto the beach, cooler and all, with nary an incident.
Fortunately for us, this was the only setback on a fantastic two week kayaking honeymoon. We began with a four-day stay at the Broken Islands. Located in Barkley Sound on the southwest coast of Vancouver Island, the Brokens boast dozens of islands and hundreds of islets. Many of the old growth, cedar blanketed islands feature beautiful coves, exciting rock gardens, caves and arches. One of the nice things about the Islands is the distinct zones for different paddling and adventure levels. Dodd and Willis Islands form a protected harbor that remains calm and glassy even under blustery conditions. As one moves to the outer islands, one increasingly encounters the wind, swell and fog of the west coast. Being on our honeymoon, we wanted adventure but also relaxation, so we opted to base camp at Dodd (eventually Willis) and do day trips based on our energy level and weather conditions. Of particular concern in the Brokens is the fast moving fog that can quickly blanket the outer islands. By staying within the inner islands with the exception of early morning forays into some of the middle islands we avoided the fog, though we certainly ran into people who lollygaged too long on the outer islands and had hair-raising crossings back to camp with zero visibility.
Honeymoon Suite
No such excitement for Cheryl and I. We spent our mornings paddling through calm water, some fun swell, mild rock gardens while we more or less gunkholed from island to island. Turret Island offered beautiful coves, bull kelp so thick that the swell broke over it and white sand coves that seemed tropically out of place.
In the afternoons we basked on beaches in glorious weather that was far from expected for a temperate rainforest. In the evenings I would go for a paddle in some more exposed waters, always with one eye towards the horizon for the fast moving fog. Later we would sit on the beach, drink good California Chardonnay and watch eagles fish in the water between Willis and Dodd. Then the sunsets, those glorious Pacific Northwest sunsets that seem to last forever; a long translucent religious postcard of emanations over snowcapped peaks and fingers of fog. So soothing was the routine that it was hard to leave. On the fourth day we repeated the ferry back to Dodd Island (the cooler being empty now) and the water taxi took us back to beach at Toquart Bay.
We now headed to Ucluelet, or Uke as the locals call it. Ucluelet and Tofino are the major towns near Barkely Sound on the west coast. To the south of Uke lies the Brokens, to the north the Long Beach unit of Pacific Rim National Park. North of Long Beach is Tofino which then gives way to Clayoquot Sound. Tofino and Uke are an interesting study of contrasts that reflect the crossroads of Vancouver Island. Uke is still a quaint fishing village. Some nice restaurants, a kayak rental place and a couple of whale watching tours. There are a few motels and a scattering of B and B’s. By and large, life is still dominated by fishing, with some of the local restaurants offering a “bring your catch and we’ll cook it for you” special. Uke is a town that wants both its feet in the old life of fishing and logging, but really has at least part of one foot in tourism. Dennis, the owner of one of the B and B’s we stayed out was a perfect metaphor of this. While he ran a beautiful B and B with his wife, his second job was as a tree toper for local logging companies.
Tofino on the other hand has jumped with both feet and then some into the tourism industry. Having stayed in Uke for a few days, our day trip to Tofino was a bit overwhelming. Multiple kayak rental places, a whale watching outfitter at nearly every corner. Galleries, restaurants, hotels and bed and breakfasts everywhere. And strangely, given that we were on the isolated west coast of Vancouver Island—a shortage of parking. Cheryl wandered around town while I paddled out to Meares Island to hike the Big Tree Trail. The Tofino harbor is a real bustle of activity. Zodiacs zipping every which way with red survival suit clad clients all sitting in rows facing forward like some strange ocean faring cult. Seaplanes launching and landing constantly taking a steady stream of campers out to Clayoquot Sound. And the kayakers—everywhere groups of kayakers and most of them heading to… the Big Tree Trail on Meares Island. The tour groups rendered my chart superfluous, but I lucked out in that two huge groups pulled out just as I arrived and I had the trail all to myself for most of the hike. The Big Tree Trail is the Muir Woods of Clayoquot Sound. The beautiful old-growth cedar rainforest has a primordial quality to it—heightened by the knowledge of the importance of the area for First Nation spiritual practices. The boardwalk trail takes about 25 minutes to hike and culminates at the “hanging garden tree”, which I must say, is very impressive. It is a number of cedars that have grown together to form a tree trunk of Sequoia proportions. The upper trunk and branches are covered with plants that grow out of nooks and off branches and gently swoop back towards the ground as if some Titan planted a cascading garden on this massive tree—in other words it was really neat-o. The paddle to and from the trail was also quite pleasant, though the area has some serious currents. I cut between two islands against the flood on the way back and had to sprint to make any headway at all—this at least three hours after max flood.
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