For nearly a decade, the spring campout was an annual tradition of the West Coast Paddler forum. Over time, however, as forums in general across the internet gradually withered against the onslaught of social media, and as sea kayaking was gradually eclipsed in popularity by other outdoor activities, the spring campout grew less frequent and less well attended. The last successful campout was held in 2016. In 2017, the campout was called off at the last minute. After that, the campout was no more.
In 2025, we brought it back. Four of us from the forum gathered on Arbutus Point for the first time in nearly a decade. We augmented our number by hooking up with some unaffiliated kayakers who had also paddled out for the weekend. We had so much fun, we decided to make the spring campout annual again.
Route map. Most of us rolled our kayaks onto the ferry at Tswassen and paddled across from Swartz Bay, but the intrepid Philip Torrens launched from Fulford Harbor, hoping to sail across.
I drove up from Seattle Friday afternoon after work. By the time I had rolled my kayak off the ferry and down to the water’s edge in Swartz Bay, the sun was setting. Darkness fell when I was still only halfway to Portland Island. Stars and meteors appeared in the sky overhead, and sparking bioluminescent plankton lit up the water beneath.
My map depicted all the points around Portland Island, but it didn’t identify their names. At night, it was hard to figure out which point was Arbutus Point. All I could do was nose into every bay to scan the beaches with my flashlight, trying to spot the other paddlers’ kayaks pulled up on shore.
In Royal Cove, I encountered some powerboats at anchor, but as usual, powerboats only led to trouble. The crew on one boat told me I had already reached Arbutus Point, which turned out to be incorrect. A second boat clotheslined me with its mooring line, which its crew had run from the boat to the shore, suspended above the water exactly at head-height to a kayaker. In the darkness of night, I couldn’t see the line until it loomed just inches in front of my face. I ducked at the last second, leaning back onto my deck like a limbo dancer, clutching my hat to prevent the mooring line from sweeping it off my head.
Piers Island sunset view from kayak. Currents were mild everywhere between Swartz Bay and Portland Island.
Sunset view up Satellite Channel. Pacific Northwest sunsets are often at their prettiest about thirty seconds after the sun has dipped beneath the horizon.
Alex’s camp at Arbutus Point. I slept out under the stars the first night.
Campground at Arbutus Point. This is one of the most pleasant campgrounds in the Gulf Islands.
View of Hwmat’etsum (Mount Maxwell), Salt Spring Island. Jane, a kayaking guide born on Salt Spring, told us the Hul’q’umi’num’ legend of Hwmat’etsum, a mountain that “slumped over” to allow an ancient cultural hero to hurl boulders past its peak.
Kayakers were few in numbers this weekend, but birds were many. Spring migration was underway. The goldfinches had arrived and were flocking with the siskins. Orange-crowned warblers tittered from the lower canopy. Male rufous hummingbirds were performing their mating displays, in which they dive from on high and spread their tail feathers, generating a distinctive, buzzy whistle.
Flowers were blooming all over the island. The Pacific madrones, for which Arbutus Point is named, were efflorescing so prodigiously that I could smell the island from a mile downwind.
Fox sparrow singing, Arbutus Point. Unusually, this species was both more numerous and more vocal than the song sparrow.
White-crowned sparrow, Arbutus Point. This species is one the principal vocalists of our dawn chorus.
Chestnut-backed chickadee, Russell Island. This was the only chickadee species I saw all weekend.
Harlequin duck, Arbutus Point. Most sea duck species had already departed our waters for their breeding grounds, but the harlequin ducks were still present in large numbers.
Daffodils, Portland Island. This little cluster was growing in the middle of an old, feral orchard.
Common camas, Portland Island. The bulb of this plant was once an important food source for the Coast Salish nations.
On Saturday, Alana and I joined up with local kayaking guides Liam and Jane for a day-paddle to Fulford Harbour for ice cream. On the way back, we stopped on Russell Island to tour the old Hawaiian homestead there. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Kanaka laborers from the fur trade settled throughout the Gulf Islands. Some of their houses and orchard still stand, making for a lovely afternoon stop.
On Sunday, Alana and I paddled back to Swartz Bay together. She left me in her wake, but in my defense, I had my enormous boat cart strapped to my deck. Its wheels dragged in the water on either side of the hull, expanding my twenty-four inch beam to a barge-like thirty-six inches.
Liam, Alana, and Jane paddling past Chad Island. Jane grew up here and knew all the little beaches and coves to explore.
Hawaiian house and orchard, Russell Island. Today, the entire island is part of Gulf Islands National Park Reserve.
Alana waiting for ferry to pass ahead of her. We encountered a modest adverse current in Colburne Passage but nothing we couldn’t handle.
Portland Island in springtime can’t be beat. Between the sunny skies, the abundant birds, the blooming wildflowers, and of course the company of kayakers, there’s no better place to spend the last weekend in April.
After a nine-year hiatus, it was past time to breathe new life into the spring campout. Hopefully, this once-strong tradition will make a permanent comeback.
—Alex Sidles