Maya and I had so much fun kayak-camping on Sucia Island, we planned to return to Sucia by water taxi with Rachel and Leon, who, at two months old, was too little for kayaking but just the right age to start camping.
We changed our minds when the forecast called for periodic showers throughout the day. It might be too cold for such a little guy.
Maya likes the rain, so she and I went out together. In Leon’s absence, kayaking was back on the menu, so I took Maya to Anderson Island in south Puget Sound, where she had never been.
A family of friendly harbor seals escorted us the three miles (5 km) from the Luhr boat launch across Nisqually Reach.
Route map. The 2014 edition of the WWTA guidebooks claims that the campsite at Carlson Bay is only for WWTA members (which I am), but the more recently updated online reservation system says that “the public” may also camp.
The lone campsite on Anderson Island is on a narrow, gravel spit that almost, but not quite, encloses a brackish lagoon. On one side of the campsite is the blue water of Puget Sound, on the other the green water of the lagoon.
The spit’s pebble beach and driftwood barricades made great exploring for a three-year-old. At low tide, the outlet between the sound and the lagoon mostly dried out, exposing a maze of braided channels that were perfect for wading.
Maya entering kayak at Luhr boat ramp. She was very proud of her new, “long” boots.
Crossing Nisqually Reach toward Anderson Island. At low tide, the Nisqually River delta turns into a vast mudflat that can strand even a shallow-drafted boat like a kayak.
Arriving at Carlson Bay, Anderson Island. Maya fell asleep during the crossing, trailing her fingers in the water, as she often does.
Campsite on Carlson Island. Though exposed to wind, this is one of the most scenic campsites in the south Puget Sound. Thanks to the reservation system, there are never other campers.
Maya in tent. Telling stories and playing games in the tent is at least half the half of a camping trip.
At half-hour intervals, the weather would alternate between blue sky and hard rain. We could watch the rain clouds approaching across the channel and try to time our retreat to the tent.
Once or twice, we underestimated the speed of the rain’s approach, and I had to carry Maya up the beach at a run to avoid a soaking.
Maya hiking on Anderson Island. There is an extensive trail network through the forest, including a link between Carlson Bay and Andy’s Wildlife Park in the middle of the island, but Maya and I confined ourselves to the beach.
Lunch break on the beach. The local crows were very interested in our doings, but raccoons were absent (though I have seen them here on previous occasions).
Dinner on the beach. There was a picnic table at the opposite end of the beach, but we made do with our life preservers on the ground.
Hiking in lagoon outlet. At low tide, these shallow, braided channels were perfectly scaled to a three-year-old.
Snuggled up in tent. Maya stayed cozy in Rachel’s super-warm winter bag.
In the morning, all Maya wanted to do after breakfast was go back to the lagoon’s outlet, which she called a “stream.” She reported, quite accurately, that “it’s really fun to play in the stream.”
When we returned to camp, we loaded up the kayak and made it back to the boat ramp in a little over an hour—just enough time for Maya to take another nap.
Returning from Anderson Island to Nisqually delta. There were fewer harbor seals on the return crossing, but we did encounter a large flock of pigeon guillemots diving and splashing, as well as one rhinoceros auklet and one common murre.
Anderson Island was a great trip for a child. The crossing from the mainland was long enough to provide an adventure but not so long that it ever became tedious. The beach and driftwood were steep enough to be challenging but not so steep as to be frustrating. Best of all was the lagoon outlet—the perfect place to splash around for a couple hours, fording streams and chasing crabs.
—Alex Sidles