Over the course of three winter days, I circumnavigated Cortes Island, easternmost of the Discovery Islands at the northern end of the Strait of Georgia.
My original plan was to paddle across from Campbell River on Vancouver Island, stopping along the way on Quadra Island to visit the We Wai Kai Nation petroglyphs at Cape Mudge. At seven in the morning, just as I was about to launch, the wind leaped from zero to twenty knots, casting whitecaps across the Strait of Georgia as far as the eye could see.
Twenty knots of wind is a lot to deal with amid the swirling tidal currents off Campbell River. What is more, the forecast called for the wind to worsen throughout the day—and indeed, the nearest marine weather observatory at Sisters Islets recorded windspeeds to thirty-three knots later that day—so I gave up on the petroglyphs and caught the ferry to Heriot Bay on Quadra Island.
From Heriot Bay, the masses of Quadra and Cortes Islands sheltered me from the gale. Swell-like wind-waves generated in the Strait of Georgia reached up the passage to shove me northward, but the wind itself did not reach me.
Route map. A paddling distance of twelve miles (19 km) the first day, thirty-one miles (50 km) the second, and eleven miles (18 km) the third.
The strongest gusts of wind may not have been able to reach me among the twisty passages of the Discovery Islands, but the precipitation sure did. It rained and snowed non-stop the entire first day and night and most of the second day. Whenever a breeze did find me, I had to don pogies to keep my hands from freezing, even though pogies always give me blisters.
Snow patches dotted the landscape. Giant frozen icicles crept down the rock faces. In Lewis Channel, a massive block of ice broke loose overhead and tumbled sixty feet (18 m) down the cliff. It splashed into the water just behind my boat.
Stratus clouds and fog shrouded the flanks of the passages between the islands, concealing the towering mountains for which the Discovery Islands and Desolation Sound are famous. When it comes to wintertime paddling in the Pacific Northwest, it’s important to consider that the clouds don’t block the view; they are the view.
Paddling northward up Sutil Channel toward Penn Islands. Thirty-knot southeasterly winds in the Strait of Georgia were unable to penetrate the protected waters around Cortes Island.
View from northernmost Penn Islands campsite. This is one of the most highly regarded kayak-campsites in the Discovery Islands.
Cooking dinner in the rain, Penn Islands. Hungry ravens watched me from the trees.
Icicles, Lewis Channel. Daytime temperatures were a few degrees above freezing, but the icicles would regenerate at night.
Fog-shrouded entrance to Teakerne Arm, West Redonda Island. The famous Cassel Lake waterfalls at the head of the arm were out of range for me on this trip.
Exiting Lewis Channel into Desolation Sound. Nothing seemed to move in Desolation Sound this afternoon: not the clouds, not the wind, not any boats or birds.
View of Desolation Sound. As the stratus clouds gradually lifted, the appealing face of Desolation Sound became more apparent.
Bird life was sparse around Cortes Island. Of the Big Four alcids, I saw only marbled murrelets, common murres, and a handful of pigeon guillemots—no sign of rhinoceros auklets at all. Horned grebes and a few western grebes were present but not a single red-necked grebe. Pelagic and Brandt’s cormorants were present but not a single double-crested cormorant. Surf scoters but no white-winged scoters. Plenty of red-breasted mergansers but only two common mergansers. Plenty of Barrow’s goldeneyes but only a handful of common goldeneyes.
The most notable bird species was the long-tailed duck. I saw a total of three individuals, two males and a female. None had yet grown their long tails, but they were still extremely handsome ducks.
Barrow’s goldeneye taking flight from water, Lewis Channel. This was the most numerous of the Bucephela this trip, even more so than the bufflehead.
Marbled murrelets, Lewis Channel. I kept my eyes peeled for ancient murrelets but did not see any.
Common loon, Uganda Passage. The loons and I whistled back and forth to one another.
Harlequin duck, Heather Islets. Large numbers of this species were present all the way around Cortes Island.
Long-tailed duck, Uganda Passage. This species is a rare wintertime treat for a lucky paddler.
Surf scoters off Shark Spit. This is the quintessential saltwater duck species of the inland waters.
Short-billed and glaucous-winged gulls, Shark Spit. These were the only two species of gull present the entire trip.
Weather improved on the last day. Out came the mountains and the skies, and the wind, already light, now died to nothing. Here at last were the conditions most kayakers experience when they visit Cortes Island during the summer months.
I had originally planned to look for five archeological sites around Cortes Island: the petroglyph complex at Cape Mudge, a pictograph in Lewis Channel, two petroglyph boulders at Marina Island and Manson’s Landing, and a pictograph on the walls of Gorge Harbour. Due to the weather delays on the first day, I had to skip the petroglyphs at Cape Mudge and Manson’s Landing. I searched for but could not find the pictograph in Lewis Channel and the petroglyph boulder on Marina Island. In the end, the only archaeological site I managed to find was the pictograph on the walls of Gorge Harbour, a magnificent landmark.
Steller sea lion off Teakerne Arm. A herd of rambunctious sea lions challenged me as I transited their feeding grounds.
California and Steller sea lions at rest west of Mary Point. The smaller, darker California sea lions are nearest the water, while the larger, lighter Steller sea lions are higher up the rock.
Kayaking into the Gorge. Even in the early stages of the ebb, the outflowing current was running about a knot.
Pictograph in the Gorge, Cortes Island. The figure is an anthropomorph with a detailed face and a headdress or rays protruding from its head.
View north up Sutil Channel, Gastineau Range mountains in background. Trees, rocks, and clouds are the elements from which our landscape is made.
Kayaking over shallow bottom off Shark Spit, Marina Island. The private owner of Marina Island, supposedly none other than Microsoft founder Bill Gates, allows the public to camp for free at Shark Spit on the north end of the island.
Sunny skies, mountain views, and warm temperatures do improve the experience of kayaking, there’s no denying. But they don’t make or break the trip. Clouds, rain, and cold deliver their own variations of beauty. The point of kayaking is to immerse the paddler in the natural environment, and the natural environment is only ever guaranteed to be beautiful, not comfortable.
—Alex Sidles