The Secret of Roan Inish

This movie is truly coastal. It makes me want to jump in a curragh and set to the oars, fog or clear weather. Set on the coast of Ireland, the story blends folklore and real life to tell of a small boy carried away to sea by the seals in a wooden cradle, and his sister who finds him. There's plenty of coast and ocean, green islands with rocky shores, meadows of wildflowers, and a sky that changes and changes. The people speak with a way about them; the grandmother tells the girl "That's not your worry. Your shoulders are too narrow to carry that load." And when the silkie changes into a woman, well. It's worth watching. It's a wonderful story.

Our Endless Numbered Days

Iron and Wine. If you're lying around feeling good about life, this is the band to listen to. And if you want to lie around and feel a little better about death, too, his album Our Endless Numbered Days is good for that. I never think about death. It's just not something I'm concerned with. But here it is anyway, Naked As We Came, my new favourite song. Pass me on the sidewalk and you'll probably hear me singing it.

Naked As We Came

She said, "Wake up, it's no use pretending"
I lay smiling, breathing her.
Birds are leaving over autumn's ending
One of us will die inside these arms.
Eyes wide open, naked as we came
One will spread our ashes round the yard.

She said, "If I die before you, darling,
don't you waste me in the ground."
I lay smiling like our sleeping children
One of us will die inside these arms.
Eyes wide open, naked as we came
One will spread our ashes round the yard.

Bitter Backed By Happy Bass

Some nights are uneventful. Some nights you just drink gin with your brother, sing Mountain Goats fragments, try to convince him their songs are optimistic, not bitter backed by happy bass. Real-life footage from an Iraqi documentary is your entertainment, and you feel bad about that. Ice cubes rattle in your empty glass. When there's no dialogue in the footage, just chants and gunshots, you continue conversation where you left off, and tell him your most brilliant thought of the night: dog walking is the social opposite of wearing headphones.

The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test

It's late to be reading it. I could have been more inspired reading it back when I was 18 and reading Kerouac as well and trying a lot of that shit for the first time. But still. Tom Wolfe's The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. What it makes me think about now isn't so much 'Man, how do I open those doors for myself and prop them open for a while?' but more just about sub-culture. The newest thing on the edge. How did the Beats turn into the Heads, and what was before the Beats? Who is on the edge of the edge right now, and pushing further? Even at the turn of the century, there must have been that group of people taking it where it hadn't been yet, doing something different. But if the current sub-culture is technology-based, if it's about metal implants and genetic modification, I'm not so interested. Maybe that makes me the same in a 2007-type way as the suburban work-a-daddies horrified by the Day-Glo bus driving through their neighbourhood. I don't know. The kind of edge I want to push towards involves free living, directed by intuition. Going where it goes. Where is the most current sub-culture on the literary and intellectual edge, and going further? That's what I'd like to know. Maybe if I take off somewhere warm for a while, with my backpack and sketchpad and a novel-in-progress, find a good surf beach to kick back on and throw around a lot of ideas with whoever's there, maybe that's my Day-Glo bus. I'm hoping. Discipline leads to prolificacy. Prolificacy leads to innovation, and that, ultimately, is what I'm going for. Innovative expression of the things everyone already knows but hasn't put into words or pictures yet.

Actually . . . It's Nicaragua

I've decided to go to Nicaragua instead of Spain, at least to start. Originally I thought I would move to Spain and live there, indefinitely, so going in January was okay because I figured that way I'd be all set up with an apartment and a job by the time the nice weather came around. Spend the shitty time of year getting set up. But. Now I'm thinking I'm going to be doing more of a travelling type trip instead of actually moving somewhere. I'm going to apply to the UBC Creative Writing MFA program again next November. I see myself back on the west coast not too long from now. This is a time to just travel and hang out before moving back to B.C. and getting serious about writing, in Vancouver.

The idea of moving to a big, expensive European city at the coldest time of year, and having to start looking for work and an apartment is not exactly appealing. I want to go somewhere warm. I want to travel. Nicaragua it is.

Nicaragua. I'll go there with almost nothing. I'm not bringing my laptop or a strict rewriting schedule. I'll go where it takes me. I'll write, for sure, poetry, creative non-fiction, short stories if they come up. And I can draw as well. This will be a time of major raw material. I can refine it later. That's what I'm bringing -- pens and paper, sketchbooks, pencil crayons, that kind of thing. It'll be hot. There'll be volcanoes and steamy, wet rainforest, and lagoons and waterfalls and flowers and whitewashed buildings. Beaches and reggae and surfing. Little villages. And the spirit of a people, that I don't know yet but will.

This is a great choice. It feels right. If I want to go on to Barcelona after that, I can. I have a potential guiding opportunity in Europe for Butterfield and Robinson that can apparently earn me $3000 or more per six-day trip, and the trips are scattered, here and there. That would definitely get me by. It's falling into place.

Which Brings Me To You

I'm reading this book I found on the library display shelf, Which Brings Me to You. I was pretty skeptical checking it out yesterday. Couldn't quite tell what kind of book it would be. It's fiction, a series of confessional letters between two people who met briefly at a wedding. Looking at the premise of the book, and the cover, and the two authors' photographs, I thought maybe I was checking out a beach read by mistake, like one of those Shop-A-Holic books or the Nanny Diaries or whatever.

But this book is great. The writing's really fresh and funny. At one point the woman's describing her parents' perception of university culture. She says, "A pair of art professors lived on our street. My parents treated them like they were giraffes. If they didn't mow their lawn or take their garbage around back, my parents forgave them with a kind of shrug that seemed to say: Can't blame them. They're giraffes after all. God bless 'em, they only have hooves."

Describing his first time at a shooting range, the man writes, "It shocked me how much the gun wanted to move. It leapt about in my hands, like a heavy fish." I can feel that gun even though I've never held one. He tells the woman "Beauty is the cure of the weak." Not a cure for weakness, but the cure of the weak. I like that.

These two authors have given me way more than I was expecting. It's still light reading, for sure, but crafted and funny.

Street Art in Toronto

This summer I was in Toronto for a writing course at Humber. My brother took me all over the city, showing me everything, and I really got into the graffiti and murals. This first one was in a bathroom stall; it's my favourite. I love how it's only a few simple lines, but it defines a complete image.




Bikes on the street. I thought it was cool. Maybe it's a courier thing.




This was from a whole maze of graffiti-covered alleys. Probably has a name, but I forget.





This was on West Queen West. Great street name. Did they do this on purpose, the doors?



Oh, and this. More for the personal significance than for the artwork. Ten years ago, when I was just getting into the outdoor industry, my friend Jono from Outward Bound Australia wrote this quote on a eucalyptus leaf for me. It was the first time I'd seen the quote, and it hit me hard. I proceeded to propel myself full force into the outdoor industry, my dream, and went right to the top, everything I could imagine. Now I'm done with that. My new dream is writing. On the last day of my Humber writing course, Wayson Choy handed out quotes. I got the Goethe one. It's relevant again to me in a whole new way. I'm beginning again.

Introducing . . . Guy Studly!

Yep, here he is: the one, the only -- Guy Studly! Lennie and I were at a garage sale, and this dude was in the free box. Best score ever. You snap a beer in and he holds it for you. I named him Guy Studly for the Garage Sale initials.

I wrote this while I was at the writing workshop in Toronto: "I'm taking him with me tomorrow, whether they're ready or not. Guy Studly, my shirtless beer can-holding mannequin, can just as easily hold my can of Coke in a non-drinking environment. We'll be out there on the wall, me and the cool kids. We're the ones not wearing our name tags. We're the ones throwing around terms like parallel structure and rhinestone removal. You know, the Wayson Choy kids, oh goodness yes. But oh my. Now you know too much about me."



In the end, Sarah and I took him kayaking. Here he is doing what he does best (above).



Here he is way out of his element. I made him a paddle but he can't paddle worth shit. He'd rather just hold the beer can, hold the beer can. Guy Studly though, man, he can get away with anything.

Home

It's definitely autumn now. I like this picture, from the baseball diamond near my place. Over the tracks and through the woods and there you are.

Airborne

This sign is on an otherwise nondescript house I walk past all the time in my neighbourhood. It's mythical, and being Aquarius, I identify with air. When I finally knocked on the door to ask to take a picture, the old man came out and told me it's the British paratroopers' symbol. A friend made the sign for him.

Day 12 Nuchatlitz/Nootka Island Sea Kayak Trip

Tuesday, May 29th/07 11:03 pm
Tull Avenue, home in my bed

Coffee & granola on the beach. Went into the woods & took photos of the cedars. Left, paddled back to Tuta Marina. We came full circle. We did it! We made it. This trip has been very good for my body and soul. It was great. Packed up, drove back to the Lodge & cleaned boats & gear.

Had a great talk w/Jamie Boulding. He's really interested in native stuff & was telling us about this new book, Clam Farms, about how they modified the beaches in the Broughton Archipelago. I want to check it out. And I want to see if Sue & Doug remember Josie, & vice versa. That was a long time ago.

Left the Lodge, drove to Campbell River and Sarah & I had fish & chips & frozen yogurt on the pier.

Drove home. Saw Jimmy right away, he's got a new truck, Alex & Morgan, Alex has a new haircut, Lennie & Serina, they had Johnstone Strait trip stories & some new trade beads & pipe stems. It was a rushed rushed evening. Knew it would be. By ten to nine I was cleaning my gear, dunking & hanging it. Paul called, told me it's going to be really busy at work tomorrow. I'm ready. I'll do my best. Alice called, Serena called, & all the time I'm trying to tie tarps & flies to the clothesline & stuff. By 10:10, I've washed my dishes & everything's put away. I showered, shaved my legs, clipped my toenails, scrubbed, cleaned, toned, moisturized, flossed, brushed, vitamined, all that, and now I'm in bed & it's time to crash. The next three days are a bike courier's busiest days of the month, and they're my days, all three. If I don't call Paul for help I could make $650 or so, which would make up a bit for having missed so much work. I'll try to just do it. Go have breakfast at the Roadrunner early b/c I didn't have time to pick up groceries. Okay. Busy but I can do it.

This past trip -- AMAZING. We were so, so lucky. Thank you thank you Jah, Da, & Scotty. Sunshine, good weather, good decisions, whales, glass, everything. The whole of Nootka Island to ourselves. Good for my body and soul.

Now my main goal is to live each day to its fullest, as an adventure, the way I did this trip. And put first things first. God nat.

Day 11 Nuchatlitz/Nootka Sea Kayak Trip

Monday, May 28th/07
a little island (tiny) off of Bligh Island, near the isthmus we camped on Day 1, Nootka Sound

It's nice and hot. It's beautiful. Sarah & I got in early to camp on Vernaci, and b/c the beach is small & rocky & in shade, I paddled out here to hang out before dinner. I was going to go to the isthmus, but someone's camped there, so I found this instead.

I'm up on a cliff, sitting on grass on a little ledge in the rock. It really feels like someone's sat here before. It's too perfect. The Nuu-chah-nulth lived here for so long; they found all the perfect little spots and knew of every beach. No doubt they pulled out here. In fact, this whole little beach is empty clam shells. Don't clams live underground, under the sand? Yes. Maybe they harvested the clams somewhere near here, and then sat on the rocks & shucked them. Maybe the spot I'm sitting on was where someone high up sat, like a chief or the queen, someone who didn't have to work, just watched. It's nice here.

Sarah & I got up at 6:30 & were on the water by 8:30, just what we aimed for. 8:15 really. The surf launch was pretty easy, nothing compared to Calvin Creek. So we left Beano Creek in bright sunshine again, blue skies, and only a little bit of wind. This is 8 days in a row without rain! In May. Incredible. This has been such a good trip. I've got to call Mum & tell her I'm taking her & Tess out kayaking this summer. I'm so lucky; she really wants to go. I should just do it. Maybe the Broken Islands. Somewhere I want to go, somewhere cool. Doesn't have to be the Strait. They won't care if I've never been there; they'll trust me. I should just choose a date they can both do and just go for it. Tess too; that'll be great! I'm thinking three days or so. Four maybe. I need to work. Oh, it'll be good. A different kind of trip. My present to them. I'll cook. They can do lunches.

Anyway, so we went down the coast, with a lot of rebound waves, and around Maquinna Point. You sure wouldn't want to do that in worse weather. We only had maybe 6 knots of wind, but it was big. Not scary at all for us, but really confused & rocky and lumpy, boomers, whitewash everywhere. We took some fun little sneaks, rode it. It was mellow & fun & I was glad I have the skills & Sarah too. Same as for this whole trip.

After rounding the point, we pulled in at a beach to pee & take layers off. It was surfy, though. We wanted to stay & beachcomb but couldn't b/c the tide was rising & the beach was steep. I tried to turn my boat around in the water to face the right way before getting in, tried to beat the surf set. But it came too quick for me & suddenly my boat was broadside to the surf, riding the wave towards me. I grabbed it & thought for sure it was going to get a cockpit full of water & roll in the surf, my gear everywhere. But somehow I was lucky (again) (thank you Jah, Da, & Scotty), and it only got a tiny bit of water in it.

We kept going & got out 2 miles later at Friendly Cove (Yuquot), where there was the major village site, and where Jewitt was held captive as slave by Chief Maquinna, and where Cook anchored for a month & traded before beginning to the Sandwich Islands (Hawaii, I think), & apparently got killed there by natives.

We pulled in & went to see Ray & Terry. Only Ray was there. His family is the last descendants of the tribe to still live at the village. It was neat imagining a long lineage back to the people before white people even came, at least 45oo years but probably more. He and his wife live there, and his son Sanford, who's a carver, & Sanford's son Darryl I think, & Darryl's son Isaiah. Isn't that cool? We met Isaiah when Ray came over to tell us we should get going. Oh, I just saw a river otter really close. It surfaced & breathed, looked around, dove back under with its long sleek tail. This log hasn't been much of a long sleek tale but I hope it's interesting, b/c the days themselves have been amazing.

Sarah & I went & saw the last totem pole, which is now fallen, and then we walked over & checked out the church the Spanish built, which also houses a little museum and a lot of newer totem poles & carved figures, really beautiful. Owls and eagles and wolves & orcas, lots. The museum had an article about the people's whaling shrine, which they used to harness dark magic in order to bring luck in whaling. I don't want to write about it; it's too freaky, but I'm going to find out more about it & whether it ever got returned to Nootka.

We went & saw the lake where Jewitt & Thompson went to say their prayers, too.

I liked what the museum said about Nuu-chah-nulth spirituality. They had one god, and integrated their spirituality into all aspects of their lives, constantly praying & giving thanks. Everyone had their secret spot for ritual bathing/cleansing & worshipping. The bathin, every day, year round, was a show of sacrifice & earnestness in their faith, and they used it to gather personal strength for the day.

Then we went back to our boats, & made lunch, and Ray told us to move on because "the chiefs are coming and they might want to charge you more than I did." (We paid ten dollars each for landing, which is fully reasonable). Sarah wanted to say hi to the lighthouse keepers, who are also at Friendly Cove, but we had to move on. As we were paddling out, a bunch of chiefs got out of a water taxi, looking like normal people of course, and greeted us as they walked up the pier.

We had the wind behind us and a nice easy paddle to Vernaci Island, where we're camped. Near the end, we went between a couple other islands instead of straight to Vernaci, and it was so cool. The wind blew us all the way up the channel, and we just kicked back, didn't paddle, watching the beautiful deep & lighter greens, turquoises of the water pass by, the mossy shoreline, the snow-covered mountains ahead of us. Just kicked back and enjoyed it.

Okay, I have a little more to write but the tide's creeping up on my kayak & I want to see how Sarah's doing. She paddled out to the little rock in front of our camp & I think she has her kayak afloat by the bowline. Time to go make dinner, my night -- burritos. Our last night out. Still hot & sunny at 6 thirty. Stoked. Time to move.



still May 28th, still Day 11
Vernaci Island, Nootka Sound
10:12 pm

It's so nice to be out here. This is probably the best trip I've ever been on. The only thing is it makes me want to be out here with someone I'm in love with. A guy who's as competent & efficient & organized in kayaking & camping as I am, but we're in love & we're out here. That'd be amazing. A trip that runs this smoothly, with my man. That would complete it, absolutely. But it's been so great anyway.

Now it's late, we're sitting by the fire, right by the water, tide coming up, burning yellow cedar, drinking tea. it's so quiet now that we're not on the open coast anymore. No surf. A grouse is pounding in the distance.

This campsite's cool. It's got lots of woods, which is different. Most of the other ones we've been to have thick undergrowth behind the beach. This opens up, though, & goes up a hill, with lots of space, trails, and big cedar trees. Really big. Lots of them have the long strip out of them; they've been harvested by the native people. There's a creek here too, although the beach is probably only fifteen paces long. When we got here I followed the trails to the top of the hill, & then it went down into a swamp. Sarah went back & I kept going, & then when I turned around I was pretty much lost. I couldn't find the trail back. Luckily I still had the sense of which way to go, into which part of the forest. I had to bushwhack my way into the forest, & then bushwhack it to the top of the hill. Still couldn't see trails, & I called to Sarah but she didn't hear me. Then I heard a boat scrape up the beach & I knew she was down there. I guess you could get lost back there. But here we are. Another great day. When I'm back in town, I want to wake up wondering what good things are going to happen, anticipating the singularity of the day, the way I do out here.




And, I forgot to say, the rocks are moved at this beach to clear an opening to land a boat on, like I've seen before here and in Alaska. Apparently the slaves are the ones who cleared the rocks. This is like a gnome hunt on a large scale. If that makes sense. Something I want to see so bad, and look for signs everywhere. Except this was really real.

The tide line's almost at our kitchen. 11:00. God nat.

Day 10 Nuchatlitz/Nootka Island Sea Kayak Trip

Sunday, May 27th/07 10.29

Beano Creek 2nd layover day

Yep, we're still here. Thought we would be. We'll probably get up early and get on the water tomorrow to beat the winds, which are still kicking it right now. But it's hot and sunny, and we're protected quite a bit from the wind, and we're drying out our charts, and we have all day to do whatever we want.

still May 27th, still Day 10, still Beano Creek 8:27 pm

Set my alarm for 7 today & had the beach to myself. Walked down to the right, towards the creek, but I couldn't get across. I all of a sudden had an idea for a kids' book, about a boy who I'll call Simon. He's five or six, it's about glass, I'm not going to write it now. It's in my head.

Right now Sarah & I are both writing in our journals after dinner. We've got hot chocolate, & layers on, but it's nice out. Clear skies, the sun's going down, clouds turning yellow & the white moon showing through with blue behind it. We had another sunny day. We've been incredibly lucky on this trip! Thank you Jah, Da, and Scotty. It was really windy all day, so we didn't move, but that's how we wanted it. Another day to explore. It sounds like we have our window to move tomorrow, which we really need to, so we got prepared tonight to make it a quick morning. Granola & milk powder in our bowls ready to go, tea bags in our thermoses. I feel pretty organized. When we first got here I thought we'd have to do a seal launch to leave, but hopefully it doesn't come to that. The tide differences are less & it all seems a little better. We'll see.

We hung out on the beach in the sun a lot today. All of a sudden Sarah called out Kelda! Whale! Right in front of our camp again; another grey. This one was way bigger than the one we saw at Catala. It was doing the same thing -- surfing the waves broadside, rolling, showing its pectoral & dorsal fin. I'm pretty sure it's rubbing; that's what Pat said too.

We ran back & forth down the beach watching it, & then up on the cliffs to watch it from above. Sarah went & told the others, & Glen came out & watched & then Jan too. She was being really nice, telling me & Sarah that we look great, mid-twenties, she likes it how we've got no makeup & that & look so healthy. She also said, & this was the best part, that we've inspired her to spend more time out here. B/c they're putting in a cabin for her, and she can be out here as much as she wants, retired. We told her they've been an inspiration for us, too, b/c we want to live the way they're living. I think she could see how much we appreciate the coast & how much fun we're having, & it renewed her enthusiasm for it.

Watched the whale for a long time, marked more route on my charts & figured out mileage -- I think approx. 83 nautical miles so far.

Later went for a -- the whale just surfaced again & blew -- long walk to beachcomb but didn't find anything except an abalone & a woodpecker, then walked back w/Sarah.

I forgot to say the grey whale spyhopped when it first got here, and again later. Sarah & I jumping up & down & waving our arms when it came up. Jan says they normally come even closer but she thinks b/c it's so surfy it's afraid of being beached by a big wave, so it's staying a little farther out, but still so close. We could have taken a running jump & landed to touch it, it was that close.

And that's about all that happened today. I finished the Maquinna book two nights ago, and I'm back to reading Rabin Alameddine's "I, the Divine". In fact, I think I'll read it right now. We have half an hour until the updated weather forecast. Obviously, we go a lot by what we actually see & feel & observe out there for wind, and clouds we see coming, and all kinds of signs. The forecast is another too, though, and a useful one at that.

Day 9 Nuchatlitz/Nootka Island Sea Kayak Trip

Saturday, May 26th, 2007
Day 9 Beano Creek Beach, Nootka Island

This beach is really cool. I like it a lot, but it's also making me envious, because I want to live like this too and I don't know how to make it happen.

It's just beautiful here. Exposed to the open Pacific. On the far right hand side is a wide creek. The beach is really steep and pebbly, but small pebbles, almost like sand.

The forest is big spruce mostly, with some space between them, and salal undergrowth, and a bank leading up to it. The bank is covered with long grass, and it looks a bit like the Charlottes. Pat, the guy who lives here, says the grey whales come here every year, & he watches so many pass right by, even coming close to shore & rubbing. I think that's what the little baby grey was doing at Catala. He says there's one sea otter mum that comes every year with its babies. He's here all winter, all year, right on the cliff at the other side of the beach, with a big deck going around & a greenhouse on it, and he can watch all the winter storms. He found six big green glass balls like the one Sarah has, just this year. And the Nootka Trail continues in both directions from here.

This closer side of the property is owned by a surf camp. They have these cool little treehouse cabins, so nice. All cedar shake, and little narrow steep stairs to get up. Bunk beds & glass balls & sea urchins & framed surfing photos inside. Surfboards stored under the treehouses. There's a low shack with a bunch of surfboards, too, & nobody's here right now. There's about five cabin/treehouses along the beach and a bigger house at each end. When Sarah & I heard there were going to be structures, we didn't like the sound of it, but it's really nice, & doesn't seem built up.

Yesterday we heard that slam & got freaked out & walked down the beach to the big house. We weren't expecting anyone, but an older, kind of deaf man came out. He was reticent, but eventually he told us he was a guest & his friends were inside. He invited us in, and we met Pat & Jan, Pat being the one who lives here year round. Jan's in her late fifties or so, and is building a cabin 200 yards from Pat's house. They seem to be together, kind of.

The place is beautiful. Jan told us that Pat bought the land in '91. Recently he cut trees down from the land, milled them himself, and built the house with it. It's so pretty. He inlaid cedar bark around the windows. Upstairs there's a bathtub right under a long window that looks out over the trees & ocean. Beautiful. And he filled a kind of counter that the tub fits into with pebbles from the beach, and shells and glass balls.

He runs it as a B&B that he also stays in. He says he comes with the house, because he has to run all the systems -- propane, etc. He's got wireless internet. He was making popcorn when we came in, & gave us a brown bag to go. Palomitas. On the way up the stairs, showing us around, Jan banged a drum softly on the wall, and said oh, the weather drum sounds like it'll be good weather tomorrow. The drum contracts & expands w/the humidity, so it's a kind of barometer. They weren't like eccentric island folk at all, just doing it all up in simple style.

So. Today. I woke up in a bad mood b/c it was wet out & I knew my gumboots were soaked & I hated the idea of cold wet feet all day or sacrificing another pair of socks. It was misting. I cooked 7 grain cereal & we had hot chocolate & apples & the cereal actually turned out really well. I was also in a bad mood b/c I hadn't slept well & I'd had bad dreams -- about Alice, about fighting w/Tess . . .

Sarah & I explored the cabins & walked past the B&B but then I turned around, came back to camp. Ate my leftover curry, eventually had beer & chocolate w/Sarah, tried to dry my gear.

The sun came out hot, and I went on my own down the beach to get water. I've been wanting more time to myself, but also feel bad exploring parts of the beach Sarah hasn't seen yet.

More cabins & they were cool, really pretty, and then I got to the river. It's shallow & pebbly, and it was so hot that I took off my clothes & went for it. Made myself dunk under, washed, washed my hair. It felt good. I lay on the rocks & the wind dried me but it wasn't cold. Filled the water bag & bottles & walked back to camp. Organized my gear, got a bunch of wood ready for a fire, w/the hatchet & knife & everything, & then relaxed. Sarah came back and she'd found another glass ball. It's so hard not to be jealous. She's found two like the one I found, the big green one, and now this cool small one w/a Japanese inscription stamp on the bottom. I'd like to find some, but I'll never find that many now. Oh well. Everything else has been so good, and I did find the trade bead.

Then I read for a bit, cooked dinner, & Jan & Pat & Glen came down the beach to say hi to us and Jan gave us some cookies she'd made. They invited us for coffee for tomorrow for if we don't make it off the beach, which we probably won't. The forecast sounds like strong winds tomorrow. And tonight, although it's not blowing yet. I want to stay another day, and go way down the beach. And then the day after tomorrow we need good weather so we can move closer to our takeout, or we'll have to do it all in one day, on the 29th, but I really hope that doesn't happen. Oh, I dried my gumboots out today! I never thought that would happen. Really lucky.

Day 8 Nuchatlitz/Nootka Island Sea Kayak Trip

still May 25th/07 22.07 still Day 8
Beano Creek, Nootka Island

I can't believe what a great trip this has been. It really is. Every day is so different and interesting, Sarah & I work really well together & are on the same page, and the weather's been just what we needed for winds. I feel really really blessed and lucky. I think we have Scotty to thank for it, b/c he's been praying for us every night, and I am going to thank him. What a great trip.

We're at a really special place now -- Beano Creek. It feels like the Queen Charlottes, how it's steep & duney to the woods, & mossy w/old man's beard & open, and there's grass. The beach is super steep, and it's tiny pebbles, which is a nice break from sand b/c it doesn't stick to everything.

There's so much to explore here and we haven't even started. We're both so excited. We pulled in at 6, so there's been no time yet.

Today we woke up at Calvin Creek expecting to have a layover day. I woke up at 8 and when I poked my head out the tent it was so fresh & empty & no one was around, so I just put some layers on & went out there instead of sleeping in more. A bald eagle flew over & the sand was all new after the last tide.

I walked down to the creek & washed my face, & on the beach across the creek I saw either a bear or a wolf, hard to tell from so far away, but I think a wolf. There were wolf prints all down our beach. I'd never seen one before. I'd love to see one up close.

Sarah made apple pancakes & we just chilled & read & ate batches of pancakes.

Then another helicopter flew over, and came lower & lower, & landed down the beach from us! We went over to see who it was. Charlie Cornfield was the old guy, red suspenders, Ministry of Forests, Commercial Tourism, Sport, & the Arts. I can't believe they've merged so many ministries now. The funding must get cut. Then a lady from the government too, outdoor tourism I think. And Tom, their helicopter pilot, who was maybe a little older than us & very coastal & cool & we could tell he liked us. We liked him tool. He was cute. Quiet and really enthusiastic about the coast, asking us if we'd found glass balls, talking about whales and wolves. When the gov. people were gone he said he'd take us for a spin in the helicopter if only it wasn't on government time & money, so he couldn't. He said though he'd tell his buddy in Gold River we were out here & maybe he'd swing by instead.

Those guys left, too bad, we wanted Tom to come have beer & a campfire with us or something. When they left he flew really really low straight over our camp, that we'd gone back to, and all I saw was the helicopter skids swooping right over us. It was cool. They'd come to check out the state of the beach, b/c there'd been a log barge accident & that's why there were so many logs stacked on one side of the beach. They're supposed to salvage them, the logging company, and all the junk that was on that beach -- wire and a skidder & all that shit. but they're a month late doing it, & the guy said he was shocked at the state of it & that no one's really claiming responsibility. It's good to hear though that someone's meant to be coming for those logs.

Sarah & I listened to the weather, and, as I kind of thought would happen, our weather window to move was actually today. The winds were really light, and not picking up till tomorrow morning. Then it would be 15 knots with an outlook of moderate northwesterlies rising to strong. We had the option of either waiting till tomorrow & then potentially not liking it & having to wait it out another day or two there at Calvin Creek, or the other option was to move on to Beano Creek even though we'd planned a layover day. We're both really glad we moved. It was a hard launch, & we wouldn't have wanted to launch in anything harder, & that was pretty much w/perfect weather. Now we're on a cool beach, there was no stress on the water today except anticipating the landing after the launch. Also the surf landing was pretty big, & we had perfect weather for that too, almost no swell, so imagine all that in 15 knot winds. No, we're glad we moved. And we still had a really relaxing morning, & it felt like a layover except we packed up & got on the water by three.

This beach is steep, so the surf dumps. There's pretty much just one breaker, & you ride it in on the back, but it's big. It was a way easier landing than yesterday, though, way less scary. The launch was so tough, though! Multiple sets of breakers (at Calvin Creek). I pushed myself off b/c I've never done it myself in a loaded boat & I wanted to see if I could. Went for it towards the end of a smaller set, which I shouldn't have done. It was hard to wait & assess once out there, though. Then I was punching through it & doing okay but the waves were getting bigger & bigger. One broke right over my head & I just kept paddling through it but I couldn't see anything and another one was coming. My chart case got knocked loose & my sprayskirt had a big puddle of water & I was all soaked right down the inside of my jacket, but I did it. It was hard. I was shaking for a while after we came through. Sarah did fine too. She caught the tail end of that same breaker, further to the left, so it wasn't as big. But she was the one got pounded yesterday in the surf landing. And survived.

Anyway, made it to Beano at 6 all stoked. Assessed the surf & went for it. This beach rocks. I organized my gear, set up a kitchen tarp & my tent, Sarah cooked dinner, & we ate. Then at the end of dinner we heard what sounded like a door slam. There's cabins all down this beach, but we'd been here 3 hours & no one had come to say hi, so we got freaked out. People are scarier than animals sometimes. I was hoping it was a bear. We went down the beach w/bear spray & a hatchet. Then we saw a light come on in the big house way down the beach (this is our first site w/houses, & they're really just cabins). Went up & it turned out to be a wicked B&B and Pat & Jan and their friend Glen were there. They showed us around & gave us popcorn & it was so cool & tomorrow I'll write more about it.

Also, washing dishes I totally topped both my boots b/c it surged way up all of a sudden. Soaked up to my shins. They won't dry out, so I'm stuck w/Holey Soles & neoprene booties for the rest of the trip; 4 days. I'll suck it up, but I hate having cold wet feet. A rookie mistake but understandable with this surf. Everything else is so great I don't even care. Now we're five miles or so from Nootka Sound, with one more surf launch ahead of us, and as many days as we need to get winded in and wait for our weather window. We can spend up to 3 nights here & still be fine. And there's so much to explore -- the beaches, the cabins, the Nootka Trail that has a woods entrance over by the B&B we think. It's so great. Okay. 11:07 and I'm off to bed. I can hear frogs. It hasn't really rained for days & days. Amazing. Thank you Lord, you made it right.

Day 7 Nuchatlitz/Nootka Island Sea Kayak Trip

May 24th/07 22.10 Day 7
Calvin Creek, Nootka Island!

We made it. We got up an hour early today & when we got on the water it was calm & visibility was pretty good. Snuck into a little slot in the rocks to get out & pee before going round Ferrer Point, where it gets committed.

There were sea lions on Ferrer Point. They made Sarah pretty nervous. it took us pretty much how long we figured -- left at 10 and landed around 1:30. We were really proud of ourselves. I'm too tired to write. I'll catch up tomorrow.

So we picked a good day to do our first leg down the Nootka Coast. Around 11.45, we still had a ways to go and I really had to pee. The swell was big, but we were outside the break zone. Sarah stabilized my boat and I hung off the edge & peed. I had a little bit of stagefright but eventually did it b/c I'm comfortable with her. It's hard, the cold watter slapping up on me, then after, arching up in the cockpit to pull my pants back up. Kind of crazy, but easier than landing on that section of coast.

Once we made it to Skuna Bay, there was only another mile to go. They were in the middle of logging there, or maybe log salvaging, so I was glad we weren't camping there. Also, Lennie had it marked on the chart as Big Surf, although I think anywhere around there is big surf. Our surf landing was sure big.

I was so proud of myself for that landing! I volunteered to go first. Sat outside the break zone for a while, watching, pretty intimidated. When I thought I had a smaller set, I went for it (Sarah called to me to go, too, so she must have thought it was smaller as well).

It was so exhilarating, and I had to draw on all my skill. I'm really glad I'd had the training I'd had before attempting it with a loaded boat and no one else around.

There were multiple breaks, and that made it really hard. I went in on the back of the first one, but the next one came right behind, and I had to rudder & sweep hard to stay perpendicular. Braced a little, backpaddled to avoid surfing, then went hard, jumped out of my kayak & dragged it up the shore and let out a big woohooo! I did really well. It was big, and everything was getting thrown at me all at once, and I had to react with the right stroke/action every time, and I did it. I felt great.

Then Sarah went. It looked as big & crazy watching her come in as it had felt to me while I was doing it. A big wave hit her and turned her broadside. All I saw for a bit was her white hull, and I totally thought she'd dumped. She disappeared, and I was trying to decide how I could help her; if I should paddle back out or if I could even do anything from there. But suddenly she was upright and paddling again. I was like -- she rolled! That's sweet that's awesome, that's skills.

She spent the rest of the time coming in chasing her gear that got knocked out of her bungee cords & off the deck, chasing it while trying to stay upright at the same time. Her paddlefloat, her poagies. I waded in chest deep & got her paddlefloat the 2nd time it got away from her.

But she made it, and although she lost one poagie, it washed up later, luckily. Not a major piece of safety equipment, but sucks to lose it. I'm glad we got the paddlefloat back.

So after that we revelled in Calvin Creek. Long sandy beach, and the sun came out. I was skipping & twirling & running all over the place in my bare feet. But first we got a hug long carry out of the way, and ate lunch. We found wolf tracks, and we walked to the waterfall, which is really big. The creek's too wide to cross except at low tide right at the mouth. We chickened out for swimming b/c the sun went away again & the wind picked up. Went back & put our layers on & sat barefoot & bundled up drinking hot chocolate & reading. But then the sun came out again, so we did the glass balls photo shoot we'd been planning to do for days. Sunny & sandy; it was perfect. Took the big green ball & all 3 little balls out on the sand & took a bunch of shots.

While we were doing that, a Coast Guard helicopter flew around the point & over the bay & beach. It swooped down, closer & closer, & flew right over us, so close we waved & they waved back.

We knew they'd think we were hard core for being out on this part of the coast at this time of year, too early even for hikers. And we probably looked like we were having a lot of fun, too, which we were. And I'm sure they could see that big glass float. Cool. That got me thinking about coast guard and other coastal work, and all the different stuff I'm interested in, and how I'm going to do it all & how I'm going to choose a career. I'll think more about it when I"m back in town again, but I definitely want to do what I said before & line up my actions w/my values.

Then that evening I got kind of annoyed w/my tent & the meal I cooked (cheese pancakes & it all stuck to the pan), but I think I was just tired. It had been a really full day, as most of our days are out here. It's great.

Day 6 Nuchatlitz/Nootka Island Sea Kayak Trip

May 23/07

WX 0400
SYN: a High over S Van weakens today
stalls over Cape Scott & dissipates
rebuilds over Charlottes
mod to str SE in morn eases to mod in aft & shifts to light

W coast Van I South: winds light rising to SE 15-20 offshore
veering to SE 15-20 in aft, SE 25 W of Estevan Pt late aft.
winds easing to light overnight 1 m swell
Outlook: winds light rising to moderate NW

May 23rd/07 19.07
little sandy cove north of Ferrer Pt., Nootka Island (near Louie Bay)

I feel very very content & at ease, competent, on this trip. Sarah and I really know what we're doing. You couldn't do this trip without knowing what you're doing, and even more so in May. There's no one else out here.

We can paddle, and we can camp. This is our area of expertise. This is what I've spent the last ten years learning, and this trip feels like the reward. A perfect trip where we have all the knowledge to make the right decisions, and right decisions are crucial.

We know how to read the charts & find our way around, shift scale when the chart changes, use the tide tables to know where to camp & how far to pull up the boats. We know how to interpret the marine forecast & paddle or not paddle accordingly. Our camp's bomber, everything set up tight, and our systems are efficient. We make distance, good mileage, and we have lots of time to tool around and explore whatever we want. We have time in the day b/c we're efficient with our cooking & our camp setup. There aren't a lot of fuckups that cause big time wasters. None at all, actually. It's sweet.

I look behind us from where we're sitting on the beach, with our hot drinks & charts, Sarah's night to make dinner, and I see a tight little set up -- her tarp, my tent, staked out right & not going anywhere. The boats where they're supposed to be. We can leave our camp and walk way down the beach, knowing we're all set -- food's put away, nothing's going to blow away.

Tonight we'll eat dinner, I'll go fill up water for tomorrow, we'll listen to the weather, and plan our next paddling day -- destination Calvin Creek, outer coast of Nootka Island. Sweet.

still May 23rd, still the little cove, actually kind of big cove

We left Nuchatlitz proper this morning and went southeast into Nuchatlitz inlet. Our first stop was the grassy knoll, that I think I'd heard about from Kelly, & Sarah had asked Lennie at the last minute where it was. It's really cool -- this big round hill out into the ocean, with no rock. All earth, & covered with grass, thimbleberry bushes, and wildflowers. Not even salal. There were columbine and strawberry flowers & chocolate lilies & stonecrop & Indian paintbrush & a yellow snapdragony looking flower. Leading up to it was really pretty vetch.



Oh and on the paddle up to it, before we got out, there was a big black bear walking the beach. The first we've seen. We saw two minks today as well, and sea otters and of course bald eagles. And ravens, heard some ravens.

We were so stoked paddling today. Even though it was grey & rainy, we were warm, and it was just such an interesting paddle. Sarah's favourite paddling day of the trip so far, and probably mine too. We got to see so much cool coastline, and there were all these surges and boomers, and intertidal life getting exposed & then getting covered up again. Paddling that takes a little bit of concentration if you want to get close, & is really fun. Also there were a ton of sea caves. We knew there were probably burial boxes in a lot of the caves; a few people told us they're everywhere in the sea caves. But the idea of going back into those big dark caves & searching for burial boxes is really freaky.

We did stop at a beach Lennie had told us about, where he said there was a burial cave, or burial boxes. I had a real feeling it was at the right, where there were some cool sea stacks & space behind them. Sarah thought the other side, or up against the cliffs, so we started looking there. but when I went a little ahead to the place where I thought, I climbed up these rocks and over some logs & it opened up, and then there was a trail at the back. It's funny the way I sense this stuff. I really do. It's like I can slow right down, and get into a space where I'm wandering but focused, and I'm just going by intuition, almost being led. That's how I found the cooking cave before, with the rocks for cooking, the smoky roof, & the pounder. And I've found trade beads that way too. And in Alaska I just saw stuff. It jumps out at me; I see it.

Anyway, we went up the trail, which was wide and old, and it kind of stopped, except went up to a flat cleared lookout. Except Sarah realized this huge tree had recently come down right across the trail. We didn't want to climb through there, and maybe step on or grab stuff unexpectedly, and we didn't feel like bushwhacking, so that's where we stopped. But I'm sure that was the site, even though Lennie didn't say where at that beach. I have to ask him. [I did ask him, after the trip: he said it was up against the cliffs, where Sarah had thought.] And Sarah & I both thought, if it's all buried under that fallen tree now, that's good. It's protected.

We got to our campsite, sandy, explored. Missed this great water source by walking over it further upstream where it was all shallow, & looked brackish. When I went back for water I found it was clear and awesome. Sarah & I went back again just for the walk & to fill our Nalgenes so we didn't have to use any of the old water, & we found it would actually be a great little swimming hole. More of a bathing area.

Before that we listened to the forecast while we ate dinner and drank wine, and it was the best forecast you could ever ask for, perfect perfect for rounding Ferrer Point tomorrow and attempting the outer coast. The outlook's really great too, so it looks like we're off to Calvin Creek tomorrow. (Don't say it too loud). We're getting up an hour earlier tomorrow, 6:30, and we're having a fast breakfast of hot granola. Once we round the point, we have 3 hours of committed paddling, 8 nautical miles I should say, without landings, before our beach. I'm excited to go for it.

Day 5 Nuchatlitz/Nootka Island Sea Kayak Trip

Tuesday, May 22nd/07 21.44
Island 44, Nuchatlitz, west coast of Vancouver Island

I have a really good view from right here. I'm looking south over the Nuchatlitz to Louis Bay and Ferrer Point, where we're going tomorrow. To the right of that is the open Pacific. Everything's grey.

We had sun & haze & cloud today. We were sad to leave Catala so early. Another night would've been good to go camp on the northern sandy point, where there's a trail to a lake. But we wanted to get off the island & back into this area.

I cooked pancakes this morning & we left. A crossing & then stopped on Island 40, where there's a cool campsite on the point, with sand & Indian paintbrush & columbine.

We kept going b/c I was really set on exploring the actual ins & outs of the Nuchatlitz proper. I got kind of edgy b/c I really wanted to see it. We paddled to our campsite on 40 & ate lunch, unpacked, & took off again solo this time, to explore. I just wanted time to do that.

We were looking for water, too. I wanted to look at all the IR [Indian Reserve] areas. I didn't stop on any for quite a while, though. Finally I was looking for water up a little runoff thing that ended at a cliff. I followed it up, & then noticed a worn trail going up. As soon as I stepped onto it I could tell it was a human trail. Just inside up there were all these burial boxes! It startled me, & it was so cool. Four boxes or so, all green & old. Mostly broken. There was a skull right there in front of me on the rock, & some human bones, like arm or leg. And a full skeleton curled inside the one box. You could still see the cloth & stuff it was wrapped in. One box was pretty much preserved, unopened & unbroken. There were some old white people's stuff too, that they must have been buried with -- a pair of old old binoculars. And also a huge rock with black earth or something on top, looking exactly like a native person sitting w/a cape around them, & a mask, like Dzonoqua-- ooo like that with the mouth. A hummingbird was hanging out right at the trail entrance.

When I came back out, I could see Sarah across at the IR. I called to her. It was lucky she was right there so I could show her.

Then she left (she had found water), and I went to check out the IR. I walked in at the left & into the forest & there were all these graves, headstones. It was a more modern graveyard, but still with people born in the late 1800's. One really stuck out to me b/c it was just a weathered grey very simple wooden cross, with the woman's name on it. She was over a hundred, and died in 1998. It surprised me that even now there are people buried that simply. Who was her family? What was her story? There was a hummingbird at that graveyard, too.

So that was a lot of death for today. I don't want to think about it anymore, but it was really cool to find the burial boxes. I've only ever seen one from a distance before. You could see, too, how one box was a genuine bentwood box, bent, & with the spruce pegs & fluted inside.

I explored one more beach, on our island, got back in my kayak, ran into Sarah on land walking. Made camp, we had barbecued peanuts & beer & chocolate again on the beach, so lucky it's still not raining. I made dinner, set up my tent, & I'm off to bed.

We saw sea otters today too. We've seen deer as well. I hope we see wolves on Nootka Island. The winds & weather sound so good for the next few days.

I have to look up what hummingbirds mean to the people out here, & I have to see if the Esperanza mission is the same place we camped at on night two. God nat. Over to my campsite in the corner.

Happy Canada Day, or . . .?

In Wayson Choy's book about life during the 1930's in Vancouver's Chinatown, he brings up a little-known fact about July 1st. I think it's best told quoted exactly as written:

". . . Thousands [of Chinese] came in the decades before 1923, when on July 1st the Dominion of Canada passed the Chinese Exclusion Act and shut down all ordinary bachelor-man traffic between Canada and China, shut off any women from arriving, and divided families. Poverty-stricken bachelor-men were left alone in Gold Mountain, with only a few dollars left to send back to China every month, and never enough dollars to buy passage home. Dozens went mad; many killed themselves. The Chinatown Chinese call July 1st, the day celebrating the birth of Canada, the Day of Shame."

My Talented Brother

So here he is, Simon Granovsky-Larsen, my talented brother. He's working on his PhD., he got married last summer, landed a pretty amazing grant this year; I'm impressed. My brother rocks, man, and here's a book he published in South America: http://gam.org.gt/public/publi/pdf/ciciacs.pdf

Celebrate It or Ignore It

I'm reading my roommate Lennie's copy of Tom Robbins' Fierce Invalids Home From Hot Climates. Lennie's a good buddy of mine, and we used to work together guiding sea kayak trips. I came across a part in the book where Switters, the main character, gets mad at himself for whining about the heat. Weather, he explains, ". . . ought either to be celebrated or ignored."

So I kept reading, thinking that was a quote I should really write down. I work in weather. Kayak guiding, bike couriering, it's all weather all the time. May as well celebrate it or ignore it.

A few paragraphs later, I find Switters' weather philosophy mentioned again, and this time, it's underlined in pencil. Could only be Lennie; it's his book. Lennie works in weather, too. Something to quote for the kayak clients during the next downpour. He probably already has.

This Small Town's Got Its Inner City, Too

I wrote this poem yesterday and today:

This Small Town's Got Its Inner City, Too

Oh girls, what makes you toughen,
lacquer, line and blacken,
stare cold and closed and jaded at thirteen?

And boys, who made you harden
so early, so certain,
so that, by fifteen, you can't avoid becoming
a hard-lined, dead-stare version
of a man that God and Spirit
never would have chosen you to be?

Death of A Courier

So I work as a bike courier, and in one of the banks there's a shelf of used books for sale. I scored the other day, with this wicked book, The Death of A Courier. The book itself is crap, but the cover is so sweet, and some of the quotes are cool. Hard-core, man. The middle quote's my favourite.

Yeah, about those girls -- how do you know they're couriers? Because I'm banging two of them.

The Talented Mr. Ripley

"Tom put on old flannels, a turtleneck sweater, and desert boots, and left in the Alfa-Romeo."

I'm reading Ripley Under Ground, the sequel to The Talented Mr. Ripley. I love these books. A big part of the enjoyment for me is Highsmith's portrayal of an American expat in Europe. It makes me want to be independently wealthy, and able to indulge my good taste somewhere in southern Europe. Leisure and a bit of luxury, as Tom puts it.

Protest is Dead. Long Live Protest.

Utne Magazine has an article about the futility of protest as a strategy in and of itself. Protesting was effective during the 1960's, and rallies were noticed and taken seriously by the media and government. Now it's so commonplace, it's virtually ignored. I saw a good example of it on the news yesterday, where WTO protesters in Germany were ignored, the delegates simply flying unfazed into the conferences via helicopter.

The article, "Protest is Dead. Long Live Protest" (Joseph Hart, Utne May/June 07), suggests that we need to go beyond protesting and examine a broader strategy. Key in this broader strategy is collaborating and cooperating with the organizations and people we're protesting against; sitting down and hashing it out rather than relying solely on symbolic dissension. In Hart's next article, "Meet the New Boss: You" (Joseph Hart, Utne May/June 07), Hart points to Matt Leighninger, a government/nonprofit organization facilitator who advocates shared governance. Shared governance goes beyond the us vs. them , protester vs. evil corporation view, and focuses on solutions instead. He suggests we attend our local board meetings, and start from there. It will take a little more thinking than marching around with a sign, but the results may prove to be more effective.

Day 4 Nuchatlitz/Nootka Island Sea Kayak Trip

May 21st/07 Day 4: 4 NM [nautical miles]
Catala Island, Nuchatlitz

SYN: H 120 SW of QC aft moving across QCS Tues. mod str NW NC easing tonite
rising to str/gale W of Char Tues
Van I. str/gale NW easing tonite

W Van S gale warn
near S of Est 20 easing to lt O/N
NW 25-35 easing to 20 O/N
2-3 m easing to 1-2 m tonite
O/L mod NW easing to lt & shifting to mod SE

I have to remember to look up what Abednego, Shadrach, & Mechabin or something is. I think it's from the Bible. They were the names of the three cabins we stayed at at Esperanza. I think they're Bible names, and inside there were 4 Bibles. But somehow I think they're evil guys from the Bible. It'll be interesting to know.

We left Rosa Island by 10 this morning. Woke up to bright sunshine & a beautiful day. What a nice change, to wake up to sun. Had coffee & Bailey's again; that's not going to last very long.

We had a calm paddle up the coast of Rosa, & then a calm beginning of the crossing, but the wind picked up hard & it was a tough crossing. It took us about an hour & 20 min.'s to cross the 3 mile crossing. Which was good time in the 15 knot winds that we had.

Now we're on Catala Island, and it's sweet. We're facing the open Pacific, and we can see the western tip of Nootka Island, where we'll be going eventually. It's Sarah's night to cook dinner, & she's making lentil curry over a fire, because it's so nice out. It's been sunny all day, and warm. I wore a t-shirt and rad pants all day, and we put on a ton of sunscreen.

So the paddle here was hard. I've been going slower than Sarah a little bit. I do have the slower boat; it's wide & bargey. But still. Slower. I did something to my wrist on our long long day, & it's been hurting a lot, but I only just looked at it b/c I didn't think it was a big deal. It's actually really swollen. Sarah can see it too. Whatever. I can't do anything about it. So I struggled a bit but we got here. Those winds were big, & they've just been picking up & picking up, & now it's died down a bit, but still totally whitecapping out there.

This is a huge beach. We got here, got all the work done of unpacking & hauling the boats up, then we sat down & cracked a couple of beers. Glass bottle Sleeman's, super nice, & some barbecued peanuts & chocolate raisins.

We were just sitting there, Sarah looking through her binoculars, when all of a sudden -- oh my God! I couldn't believe it. I was up & running down the beach right away. A baby grey whale surfaced right in front of us, right at shore! It was so cool. We ran down the beach, following it. It was playing in the surf, on its side, so you kept seeing the dorsal fin & pectoral fin come up at the same time, & then it would go under for a while, & we could follow its white marks underwater & then it would come up again to blow. We felt so lucky, that a baby grey would come right up to our campsite & hang out. It left, but it came back again a few times over the day.

We were almost out of water. We have a 10 liter drom and four 1 L Nalgenes with us. We knew we had to find water soon. I hate rationing water. So we went down the beach, Sarah one way, me the other. I wasn't really beachcombing. Kind of, but I really had the water on my mind, so I was in the woods a lot too, looking for it.

Finally I asked Grandmother for help, native Grandmother, and very soon after I found a random path in the woods that led to a small stagnant pond of water. I was happy b/c no matter what, at least that meant we had water. We could treat it if we wanted to.

I came back out of the woods, marked the spot. Thought about how I'd like to have that kind of complete faith -- total faith in God that you're provided for & taken care of, & all wishes granted. Then I thought what kinds of things would I have faith in receiving. A glass ball? Then I thought that's pretty hard, fell. As I was getting up I looked over & there was a glass ball! A smallish green/blue Japanese glass fishing float. I was so stoked. Earlier Sarah found one.

When I got back to camp, Sarah was sitting beside a dark green glass float the size of a basketball! She found it, and another small one. We've had a lot of luck on this beach. She also found better water, so we walked over to the point campsite & further & got it.

Tomorrow we're going back into Nuchatlitz proper to explore all the little islands. I'm excited. We looked at the charts today & figure we can spend 2 more days in the Nuchatlitz & then start down the coast of Nootka, and that'll still give us plenty of time to be winded in. It's nice to feel we have enough time around here and enough to go down Nootka. I'm kind of surprised.

Now we're still by our little fire, and the baby grey whale's back, right in front of our camp. The wind's died, the moon's out, and so is the first star. Soon I'm off to my tent to read the next chapter in the White Slaves of Maquinna book. "Massacre". But first, to go stand in the surf in my gumboots, and share the water with the grey whale. Say goodnight.

Day 3 Nuchatlitz/Nootka Island Sea Kayak Trip

Sunday, May 20th 14 NM [nautical miles] or so
Day 3 21.24 Rosa Island, Nuchatlitz

We made it to the Nuchatlitz! Finally. Got on the water at 11 again today. Kinda slow. There was sunshine & I didn't even need my paddling jacket for a while. We left Esperanza and crossed to Nootka Island, then rounded the northern tip of Nootka & kept going.

The winds picked up a lot after an hour or so, and we really had to fight them for a long time. The water was whitecapping, and we also had the current against us. I was pretty tired & sore from yesterday, so didn't have a lot of power today. I was dehydrated, too, & had a headache that kept getting worse & worse.

Sarah got really hungry before Garden Point, so we stopped at a random little beach w/a creek & made lunch. It started raining hard, & the tide started coming up fast too, so it was a rushed & not fun lunch. Good though -- bagels w/mayo mustard sprouts tomatoes cheese & avacado.

We pushed on until we got to Rosa Island around 4:30 or 4:45. We'd discussed going on to Catala, which would've been nice, but we wanted to have some time in camp & not another late night & rushed dinner.

Our evening was nice & relaxed. It's pretty here -- sandy beach & another one , & you can walk across the island to the other side where there's a different view & big driftwood logs & big anemones. There's spruce & cedar here, big ones.

3 people pulled up on our beach in a little motor boat. They're kind of funny, from Tahsis, older, 2 guys & a native lady who's quiet. The one guy anchored his boat & then got pulled in to the rocks by a rope on a big inner tube, b/c they don't have a dinghy.

We set up a great camp -- two solid tarps, Sarah's bivvy & my tent. I feel competent. This is our first taste of a little tiny bit of Quadrant II time [time to do things that are important but not urgent]. I'm going to read now -- White Slaves of Maquinna: John R. Jewitt's Narrative of Capture & Confinement at Nootka. The perfect book to read on this trip. God nat.

Day 2 Nuchatlitz/Nootka Sea Kayak Trip

Day 2: Sat., May 19th 7.45
Bligh Island

WX [weather] 0400 Sat May 19
SYN [synopsis] 995 L [millibar low] offshore moving towards N. Van I. tonite
S [southern waters]: str [strong] SE veering to mod [moderately] str SW
SW easing Sun.

W Van N [West coast Vancouver Island South]: SW 10-15 [knots] rising to S 15-25 am
easing to SW 15 late eve.
1-2 m [swell] rising to near 3 m
O/L [outlook] mod SW veering to mod str NW

21.11 May 19th still Day 2: 24 NM [nautical miles]
Esperanza Marina, Vancouver Island, Nootka Sound

It rained all day today, and we got hail for a time in the middle of the day.

This morning Sarah made 7 grain cereal & we had coffee w/Bailey's. I was walking just before the trail to go to the outhouses (Bligh Island), when something blue caught my eye. I picked it up, thought it was plastic at first, but it was a tiny blue trade bead [glass beads used by Europeans to trade the native people for furs, etc. They were later found to be of no value to the natives, who discarded them on the beaches.] From the French or English, faceted. The tiniest one I've ever seen. I found my first two on Compton Island at White Beach years ago, a bigger blue one and a round amber one (Russian). This little one is special, and made me think again about being an archaeologist. Vs. art school vs. being a writer. I was also thinking about how one reason coastal people are so great is b/c they've been out in the elements & can appreciate a cup of coffee, their dry jeans, etc. I was thinking that when I saw a motorboat go by.

We listened to the weather this morning and decided it was too big to go north up the outside of Nootka. They were calling for swell to 3 metres. Also picking up to strong northwesterlies on Sunday, which would probably mean getting winded in there.

We decided we'd rather just book it up to the Nuchatlitz & then take our time coming down. And we did book it -- we paddled 24 nautical miles today. We didn't get on the water until 11 am, and still made it to Haven Cove, our destination, by 5:45 pm. The current was with us all the way up the inlet, which helped (we went north up the inside).

But when we got to Haven, which was recommended in the guidebook, there was no camping. Nowhere to put a tent. Already 5:45, & it was really freezing, and we needed to get warm and fed. It was too chancy to continue north hoping to find a campsite, so we turned around & paddled two miles back to Esperanza. There's 20 people living here year round.

We asked to camp on their lawn, and now we're set up in a cabin w/bunkbeds & a wood stove. We got a fire going & looked at the charts & had wine & chocolate (after cooking dinner outside under the tarp we set up).

So it was a very long day, physically hard, very cold, but we made great time & are very happy w/how far we got. We're close to the Nuchatlitz now, our clothes are dry, the people here are nice and welcoming. And I found a trade bead. Sweet day. Tired. God nat.

Day 1 Nuchatlitz/Nootka Island 12-Day Sea Kayak Trip

Day 1: May 18th, 2007
Bligh Island, Nootka Sound
SW point (the isthmus)

WX [weather] 21.30 Fri May 18 SYN [synopsis] H[high pressure system] N/W [lying northwest] over Van[Vancouver Island] shifts E & leaves 995 L [millibar low] moves to N. Van I. front across N. coast easing later Sat. str[strong] S[southerlies] rising to SE tonite str SW SW eases Sun.

VIS [Vancouver Island South] SE 20-30 [knots] easing to SW 10-15 O/N [overnight] rising to S 15-25 Sat am SW 15 Sat eve. 1-2 m [swell] rising to 3 Sat am O/L [outlook]: mod SW veering to mod/str NW

Sarah picked me up this morning at 8:30 or so. We said goodbye to Lennie & Serina, & Bev, & met Simone MacIsaac & Carolyn at Serious Coffee. I really like Simone. She's just passing through town, but she's a part of our group of friends. She's really nice & real, & reminds me of what's out there in the outdoors world for opportunities.

Sarah & I left & drove to Strathcona Park Lodge, loaded the boats & gear & ate some veggie chili she brought, then drove to Gold River.

Picked up sponges for the boats & some snacks & drove the rest of the way to Tuta Marina. Got there at 3:30 or so, which was good. We were pretty efficient, & it gave us enough time to pack our boats, get on the water, and actually paddle 7 nautical miles to the southwest tip of Bligh Island to camp at a good campsite. Wicked.

We are so organized, on the same page, and competent. It's great. We really know what we're doing out here, we know how to work as a team, and all our years guiding has paid off. Here's the reward -- a personal trip where we both know how to do it all, and the campwork's done quickly and easily, and there's low stress, and decisions are made quickly. We haven't had time to exactly relax yet, but we drove, picked up boats & gear, packed, paddled, set up camp, & cooked, & were still in bed by 10:30. Awesome. I told Sarah I think we're gonna spend the whole trip being really pleased w/ourselves.

It started raining at Tuta Marina, lightly, & hasn't really let up.

Right after dinner, while I was setting my tent up, the wind picked up huge. We could barely hear the weather forecast, and we took down the kitchen tarp so it wouldn't tear. But it'd died again now, and it's just raining. Or at least it's changed direction and we're protected. We're hoping it'll blow hard tonight & be done with it, so we have moderate winds to go up the coast of Nootka with. Otherwise we have to go up the inlet, the E. side of the island, & we don't want to. We want the wide white sandy beaches of the exposed west coast. We'll see tomorrow what happens. For now I'm in my tent, relatively dry. Up at 7:30 tomorrow & outta here if we can. We have so much ahead of us. God nat [good night in Danish].

Mexico es Colores

Mexico es Colores (y yo soy guia)

Blue -- A sky so deep and cloudless, more vivid even than Carolina blue. The Sea of Cortez, turquoise in the shallows, dropping off to dark. My first day on the water, a blue whale, the biggest creature on earth, ballena giganta, approaches my kayak straight on from behind me. I try not to be scared. She surfaces and blows right between our kayaks, and I can see the lighter colour a few feet below my boat for the many seconds that mark her passage when she dives again.

Yellow -- The sun. High, bright and direct in the day, low golden rays early and evening.

Green -- Palm trees against the sky, and the sun above; with these three colours Mexico could make another flag. On Avenida Salvatierra, shaped trees form a long arch over the cobblestones leading to the Mission in the middle of town. On trip, always the cardon cactus. We cut prickly pear cactus leaves into long strips, fry it with onions and garlic, and serve it in the huevos a la mexicana. We cube chayote and cook it slowly with salt and pepper. Dos Equis Especial at the end of trip comes in a tall cold green bottle.

Red -- In town, some hibiscus are still out. On trip, we serve dark hibiscus juice at lunch, getting everything ready for the guests under a hot sun at the most relentless time of day. In the desert, because we had a long hard rain, the ocotillo cactus blossoms are out. Ginni, another guide, cuts herself cooking. I cut myself washing knives. The sky is red before first light, a thin strip under the black on the horizon as we boil water for coffee and enter the ocean calf-deep to haul water for dishes, headlamps on, the guests asleep. Back at the base, a small tree growing in gravel bears fruit I discover to be pomegranate.

White -- We camp at Arroyo Blanco on Isla Carmen. Everyone wants to stay two nights, guests and guides, but we have to move because El Norte, a powerful funnelled north wind, is coming and we can’t get caught. Finally after dinner and dishes, camp is put away for the night and Ginni is showing the guests Saturn’s rings through her telescope. I leave quietly, scale a steep path up the cliff in the dark and walk the top through low brush and spiky plants. Fifty feet from the edge, I step surprised onto a wide expanse of limestone, bright and visible the way snow is at night at home. Back at the bottom, the moon is almost full and our campsite is washed in light that seems more like an absence of colour than like actual white or silver. I can see clearly to brush my teeth, spread out a tarp and sleeping bag.

Brown -- The first day I arrive, it rains much harder than it should in February. Jimmy and Mary-Ann and I roll our pants to our knees and wade through the murky brown river our dirt road has become, around the corner for a beer. A delivery truck splashes past, and the men lean out the window, singing to us, and we all laugh. My feet, my hands, new freckles across my nose. Charo picks me up in his huge brown muddy truck to go have dinner with the guests at the end of the trip. He has a sticker of the Virgin Mary, and a sticker about protecting Baja’s sea turtles. We load bins of t-shirts into the back that we don’t want to try to sell; we’d rather the guests saved their money for tips. I walk into La Mision church in the Plaza and end up kneeling to pray. Huge beams support the ceiling, dark as mahogany or teak, but they are cedar. My eyes closed in prayer, the church is filled faintly with the warm familiar scent of a wood I know from home.

Orange -- Alejandro, another guide, has perfect timing. Both mornings these first two days off, I walk into the kitchen, buenos dias, and he hands me a glass of orange juice he has just finished squeezing from his press. Muchos gracias, amigo, I tell him. Esta delicioso. Sabes, he says, for love and friendship. In the Mission courtyard, a tree just taller than a tall man bends all branches down with the weight of oranges larger than my two fists. And the sun, on trip at sunset when I have time to glance up and see, is orange every time. Fan coral far down an underwater cliff. The tail of the king angelfish.

Pink -- When the sun rises, the cliffs on islands across the water glow in breathtaking colour. This is the indescribable image. For this, you have to come to Baja.

Purple -- My faithful faithful sleeping bag.

Black -- On trip, the magnificent frigate bird. In town, the shadow of a pelican moving along the main street between cars.

02/23/05 Written on Avenida Salvatierra near the Plaza, Loreto, 2^nd day off.