Maya and I had so much fun with Chelsea and James last month on Blake Island we were eager to go out with them again to another of Washington’s beautiful camping islands. This time, we picked Hope Island in south Puget Sound, one of the best kayaking destinations outside the San Juans.
The four-mile paddle to Blake Island had proved a little long for six-year-old Chelsea and not-quite-four-year-old Maya, so for Hope Island, we picked a closer launch point: not the usual Boston Harbor marina but the smaller boat ramp at Arcadia, just a mile and a quarter from the campsites on the south side of the island.
Route map: I didn’t check tides prior to setting out, but fortuitously, we caught an ebb that carried us southbound along the shore at a brisk clip.
We got an early start, at least by family-camping standards, and it was well we did. We arrived at Hope Island around 11:00, just in time to secure the last available campsite. On state park lands, camping is prohibited outside the designated campsites, so a late-arriving kayaker on a busy weekend can find himself in a bit of a pickle.
Even at full capacity, Hope Island did not feel crowded. The campsites were tucked away in the middle of a Douglas-fir forest. Each site was screened from the others by dense walls of evergreen huckleberries.
The girls started having fun right away in the best island style. First they hunted for crabs on the beach. Then they romped around in the old farmer’s meadow, where Chelsea displayed her special talent for climbing fruit trees. They explored the dark forest paths, including wooden footbridges. Finally, they came back to camp to play in one another’s tents. Maya had brought her whole dog pack of stuffed dogs in a drybag, plus a unicorn to ride with her in the kayak, while Chelsea had brought a cat, monkey, bunny, kangaroo, and also a unicorn.
Chelsea and Maya loading kayak. The girls liked riding with their dads, but they each mentioned they should have their own boats to paddle.
James and Chelsea paddle to Hope Island. James spotted the first seal of the crossing near the north end of Hope Island.
Maya happy to be on the beach at Hope Island. This was Maya’s first time on Hope Island, although Rachel and I camped here in May 2016, just four months before Maya was born.
James and Chelsea in the meadow. Chelsea is an expert climber.
Alex and Maya walking in the forest. The forest on Hope Island has some of the most diverse tree and shrub species in western Washington.
Chelsea and Maya play in tent. The girls made up elaborate stories about the adventures of their stuffed animals and also asked their dads to make up even more elaborate stories.
Evergreen huckleberries on Hope Island. The girls scampered through the forest, picking ripe berries and feeding them to their dads.
There was plenty of wildlife. Flocks of pine siskin fluttered between tree tops high overhead. Tame deer wandered the beaches and creeks.
Even tamer were the raccoons who roamed at will through the campsites. Luckily, they seemed more interested in ripe huckleberries than the contents of our drybags. One particularly fat fellow we named Randolph could be tracked through the dense understory simply by following the waving of the huckleberry branches as he foraged.
Down on the beach, the girls discovered whole families of crabs hiding under rocks. James and Chelsea also discovered a few washed-up jellyfish, one of which gave Chelsea a mild sting on the cheek.
Wildlife was not the only attraction on the beach. Someone had hung a rope swing from a crooked tree branch. It was just Chelsea’s size.
Relaxing on the beach. At high tide, much of the beach grass was submerged.
Chelsea on rope swing. Only Chelsea was adventurous enough to try the swing.
A Jamesosaurus? OK, I’ll show myself out.
Maya sitting on kayak. The rubber hull of the folding kayak makes a perfect bass drum.
Chelsea and Maya painting in the campsite. Chelsea painted a watercolor raccoon, while Maya painted the forest.
Chelsea roasting marshmallow. Chelsea’s job was to blow out the flames every time they flared up.
Alex and the girls eating smores. James brought a handheld butane torch for this very purpose.
After dinner, we all climbed into our tents for stories, followed by an early bedtime—an especial treat for the dads. Chelsea and James woke up early in the morning and went on a long romp around the island, while Maya and I slept in and played in our tent, which is Maya’s favorite camping activity.
We faced a modest, adverse current on the return crossing, but we still made it back to the cars by lunchtime. A handful of marbled murrelets and pigeon guillemots escorted us home across the channel.
—Alex Sidles