New Year's Adventure Tale!
Warning: this rambling story is best read beside a warm fire, with a hot mug of something in hand.
On New Year's Day 2006 my husband Bruce and I had our first adventure of the year! After watching the Bowen Island Polar Bear Swim 2006 from the warmth and safety of our sea kayaks, we headed out into a warm, mild breeze from the SE to have a quick paddle around Pasley Island. We've done this before, in the daylight and in the dark. It's a short distance through relatively protected waters. The tide was high and the weather was relatively warm.
The first sign of trouble was the increasing size of waves rolling in from the SE, but they were manageable. However, once out into Collingwood Channel, we were met with weather coming from the NE and the situation deteriorated rapidly. Approaching Mickey Island, we decided to head between it and Ragged Island, rather than risk being blown onto the rocks from the south. This was the most challenging (read: terrifying) part of the trip for me: navigating colliding seas from two weather systems, maintaining a grip on my paddle in the wind (my control hampered by pogies on my hands) and staying upright in my tippy kayak! Due to the power of prayer, I managed to avoid "losing it" and made it into the lee of Mickey Island. Bruce was grinning! After a short rest, we battled the southern wind across to the north side of Pasley Island. At least that stretch was protected from the wind coming down Collingwood Channel by Ragged Island.
As we sheltered in the lee of Pasley, I managed to reduce my shaking to a mere quivering. Bruce made some welcome comment like: " it's much more exciting than flat water!" We started to examine our options. Meanwhile, we didn't realize that the force of the wind was doubling. We agreed to make our way between Pasley and Worlcombe Islands and ferry across the wind back to Tunstall Bay. Bruce got his tow rope ready in case I ran out of steam, so we wouldn't get separated. We saw a Zodiac with 2 crazy guys in it hopping through the sea toward us. We waved as they passed and I eyed the swells with trepidation.
As we neared the southern tip of Pasley and prepared to turn left into the wind and waves, I noticed the seas had flattened out. Not a good sign. We cleared the point and were immediately hit with an alarming blast of warm air coming through the gap we wanted to cross. The screamimg wind was so strong, it was all I could do to keep my kayak straight. Try as I might, I was unable to make any progress to the left! "So," I thought, "this is what Gale Force Wind feels like!" I hollered at Bruce that I couldn't go on in that direction. It took me a while to realize that he was hollering at me to let the wind turn me to the right. I was paralyzed!
We limped back into the lee of Pasley Island, me shaking like a leaf and paddling as if my life depended on it! Once in calmer waters, we took stock. We had one bottle of water and 2 granola bars between us. Oh, we had our safety gear: throw bags, water pumps, paddle float, extra paddle, but neither of us had brought our cell phones. (I always bring mine when I paddle solo, but thought Bruce "the kayak guide" would bring his!) No marine radio. No flashlight. No flares. No dry clothing. No tide chart. No weather report. How many safety rules had we broken so far?
In expedition training, you learn that short Day Paddles are the most risky. Well, this lesson was brought home to us: we weren't prepared for the worst. We were only expecting to have a leisurely paddle around our favourite islands.
Ok, so what's our plan now? Bruce commented that some of the deserted cottages near us were probably not locked up. "I vote for flagging down a passing boat!" I said. What kind of idiots would be out in this weather? Just then we noticed a small motor boat bobbing in the water to the West. It was hard to tell whether it was moving, it was pitching so much in the waves! Sure enough, it was making slow progress against the wind. Bruce sprinted out to it and asked for help. Thanks to the kindness of Sid and Kevin, I and my kayak were pulled aboard the small boat. There was no way they were going to make it across to Bowen Island with a kayak or two, so they decided to take us to the Pasley Island caretaker, who had a larger boat on the other side of the island. Bruce paddled and we rode through the pitching waves and howling wind to a long dock right in the main force of the gale! There was the Zodiac tied up, but no large motor boat to be seen. (The caretaker had wisely moved it to the other side of the island when he heard the weather forecast!)
We were welcomed by the owners of the property on Pasley, invited inside for a hot fire and hot tea! But first we had to walk the length of the segmented floating dock, whose parts were joined by squares of slippery green plywood and which pitched in the seas like a wild beast! It was like walking in one of those Fun Houses, only with wind blasting at you and cold water waiting for any misstep. Bruce pulled me as I limped along the dock (did I forget to mention my broken foot?) and once yanked me out as my boot slipped into the water! Once inside the cozy cabin, we were introduced to James, the "crazy" driver of the Zodiac, who offered to drop us off in Bowen Bay. After a short respite and a few sips of hot tea, he decided we shouldn't wait any longer. The sea was getting nastier and dusk was approaching. We were assured our kayaks were safe on Pasley. Now we only had to venture out along the slippery dock again to his floating beast. (Never try this with a broken foot!) I came very close to sliding into the water again, rescued again by Bruce.
I climbed aboard the rocking Zodiac, asking if there were any seatbelts! No, I was told. "Just hold on to the Oh Shit Bar!" I probably would have been more stable standing up like everyone else, but my broken foot disagreed, so I held on with both aching arms and bounced up and down on the hard seat like a rag doll. I imagined this was what it felt like to ride a bucking bronco! I discovered the bar I was holding onto was aptly named. In less than 5 minutes flat, we were across the white capped channel and pulling into Bowen Bay! I had wanted to take a ride on the tourist Zodiacs run by Sewell's Marina. I no longer have this desire.
We thanked our fearless rescuers and climbed onto the dock. I limped up the ramp, kneeled down and kissed the Bowen ground! We were safely back on our island!
This experience has taught me a few things:
1. Always check the weather forecast before venturing out.
2. Always bring ALL of your safety gear.
3. Always rely on your guide to bail you out of tight spots.
4. Never overestimate your strength.
5. Never underestimate the power of the forces of nature.
6. Never underestimate the kindness of strangers.
7. Never call Zodiac drivers "crazy".
8. Never go out paddling when a Pineapple Express is blowing from the south and a Squamish is blowing from the north.
9. Winter is for skiing.
