As my kids, Leon and Maya, get older, I am always on the lookout for new places to take them kayak-camping. Over the years, they’ve already visited most of the best spots in Washington’s inland waters: Strawberry Island, Hope Island, Anderson Island, Sucia Island, Jones Island. It’s getting hard to think of good, new places, at least until they are old enough to brave the coast.
A good kayak-campsite requires that kayakers be the only ones to access the site, or at least the only ones allowed to camp overnight. There’s nothing worse than camping next to a bunch of vehicle-borne yobbos with their thumping bass music, overpowered monster truck engines, and beer-fueled belly laughs.
Possession Point State Park on Whidbey Island fit the bill. Although it’s accessible by land, vehicles have to park several hundred yards up the hill. Only kayakers are allowed to camp in the grassy field next to the beach. A short distance to the north, the more vehicle-friendly Possession Beach Waterfront Park acts like flypaper, capturing the worst of the beer-and-trucks crowd. At Possession Point, I’ve never seen more than a couple dozen day-trippers, all on foot, and none camping.
Route map. An adverse ebb on the outbound leg made for a two-hour crossing, while a favorable ebb on the return leg made for a fifty-minute crossing.
This was my first time taking Maya and Leon kayak-camping together without another adult accompanying us. In the past, I’d taken each kid individually, or else I’d taken them together with Rachel or my dad to help.
To minimize the kids’ boat time on this first solo adventure, we launched from Picnic Point on the mainland, just a few miles from Possession Point on Whidbey Island. There is no overnight parking at Picnic Point, so my dad gave us a shuttle.
My dad was also very helpful when it came to transporting the Great Satan, as we call his 110-pound (50 kg) Long Haul folding kayak. The parking lot at Picnic Point is separated from the beach by a railroad, and I don’t think I could have hauled the Great Satan across the railroad overpass alone.
The kids played on the beach while dad and I sweated to shift the Great Satan’s oppressive mass. Once loaded into the Great Satan and launched upon the water, the kids promptly fell asleep for most of the crossing to Possession Point.
Launch beach at Picnic Point. The trains rushing beneath the overpass were a great source of delight to Leon, who, at age three, was in the middle of a vehicles-and-machines phase.
South Whidbey Island, seen from mainland. A fog bank threatened to envelop the island, but in the end, Saturday remained sunny all day.
Leon and Maya asleep in kayak. During the crossing, we saw three of the Big Four alcid species: pigeon guillemot, marbled murrelet, and rhinoceros auklet, missing only the common murre.
Possession Point State Park consists of a sand-and-cobble beach, a resident ranger’s house, a large grassy lawn where the kayak-campsite is, and a forested hill. We spent most of our time romping around in the grass. We saw at least four species of butterfly, but I am too weak on butterflies to identify them with particularity.
Maya and her stuffed dog pack at Possession Point. The dogs have come with us on every kayak-camping trip since Maya’s second one in 2019.
Leon in the lawn at Possession Point. Both kids gathered vast quantities of sticks, leaves, and clamshells.
Maya using her sun hat as a megaphone. The kids often wandered far out of sight, only to return on the run to tell me of their latest adventures.
Leon wearing Alex’s hat in the forest at Possession Point. The hike from the beach to the parking lot is short but steep.
Large, medium, and small boots outside our tent. We slept without a rainfly and did not receive any condensation.
Possession Point is notable as one of Washington State’s best sources of ochre. The iron-rich soil in the sandy bluffs at the island’s southeast tip produces ochres of all different shades: red, orange, yellow, and even black.
The richest veins of ochres are found in shallow caves eroding from the bluffs. The kids and I ducked into a cave to find ochre and, more importantly, shade against the hot, late-May sun.
We humans weren’t the only creatures seeking shelter. In the afternoon, a song sparrow flew into our open tent while the kids were inside. I was sitting at the picnic table and saw it fly in. I expected to see it fly back out again a moment later, but no. Instead, Maya began yelling, “Dada, there’s a bird! Help!”
The song sparrow was trying to fly out through one of the mesh windows of the tent. Flapping frantically, it only succeeded in pressing its body against the fabric. I ran around the outside of the window to persuade the sparrow to flee in the opposite direction, toward the open door. On its way out, it left us a present to thank us for our efforts.
We weren’t only bothered by song sparrows. A local Douglas squirrel grew increasingly aggressive throughout the weekend. At first, it stayed hidden in the trees, chittering at us, but after a few hours, it began poking around our campsite, at first cautiously, then with increasing impudence.
It eventually graduated to raiding our garbage whenever our backs were turned. At one point, Maya caught it sneaking into one of our open drybags which did not even contain food. While I packed up to leave Sunday morning, the kids patrolled the lawn and beach, protecting our gear from the little pirate.
Maya and Leon inside an ochre cave. The soil is so loose that pebbles embedded in the walls can be plucked by hand.
Ochre-stained pebbles embedded in cave wall. Hematite in the soil has colored these pebbles a reddish color that can persist for centuries, even in the face of exposure to the elements.
BNSF Railway train and Cascade Mountains. Even from a distance of three miles (5 km), the trains’ wheels and whistles sounded loud.
Maya and Leon in tent. We left the rainfly off so we could see stars, but we all fell asleep long before darkness fell.
Leon in tent, Possession Point. Behind him is the window through which the song sparrow tried unsuccessfully to escape.
Maya in tent, Possession Sound. The kids use our family’s adult-sized sleeping bags, so Maya had enough room in her sleeping bag to stash her entire dog pack, plus a toy kayak, plus a bunch of other stuffed animals, plus some unicorn-mermaid animals called mermicornos.
Douglas squirrel on picnic bench, Possession Point. This handsome species of tree squirrel is usually shy of humans, but this individual was not intimidated in the least.
Leon and Maya help paddle the kayak back to Picnic Point. Sunday dawned cloudy and even a little drizzly, a welcome change from the heat of Saturday.
A weekend at Possession Point was the best way to start the kids’ summer camping season. There were caves and fields and forests to explore, bold and villainous animals to combat, and plenty of time for stories and naps. Adventures come bigger than this, but they don’t come better.
—Alex Sidles