My friend James and his daughter Chelsea joined Maya and me in the latest of our dad-daughter kayak-camping overnights. We wanted an island wild enough not to have houses or roads, but not so remote that reaching it would be difficult or dangerous. Saddlebag Island in the eastern San Juans fit the bill.
Route map. Flood east during the morning, ebb west during the afternoon.
On Saturday morning, the currents were favorable, but the wind was blowing about eight knots. There were no whitecaps, but small, broaching waves slopped a few gallons of water into our laps, especially wherever we encountered tide races. On top of the waves, rain rolled in while we were still crossing Guemes Channel.
James and I were paddling folding kayaks, not true two-seaters. To accommodate the girls, we removed the spray decks so the girls could sit in our laps or perch atop drybags. This configuration offered little protection from waves or rain, so the girls got a bit wet during the crossing. Bravely, they regarded the experience as an adventure rather than an ordeal.
Maya at launch beach, Seafarers’ Memorial Park. We parked overnight in the nearest lot—legally dubious, perhaps, but no ticket resulted.
James and Chelsea departing Cap Sante Marina. The big, open cockpit of this folder makes for a comfortable ride, but it is not suitable for paddling in adverse conditions.
Alex and Maya kayaking Padilla Bay. To the south, Padilla Bay is dominated by the two oil refineries at March Point, but the view is more natural to the north.
James and Chelsea kayaking Guemes Channel. Both girls asked for stories from their dads during the hour-long crossing.
We were the only ones on the island, so we had our pick of campsites. We settled in campsite no. 4, the largest and loveliest on the south side. I pitched a giant tarp to protect our picnic table from the steady rain so we could enjoy James’ tasty sandwiches and snacks. James was keen to try out his new, double-burner stove, which turned out to be perfect for pancakes and popcorn.
James brought paint sets and other activities, but as usual on these trips, the girls’ favorite activities were playing with their dads in the tents or clambering over driftwood and rocks down at the beach. Even when I tried to interest them in the north beach, which offered a gentle, gravel slope, they preferred the steeper south beach, with its masses of slippery seagrass and splintery, jumbled logs.
Painting in the campsite. We had to be careful not to mix up the paintbrush-rinsing cup with the identical coffee-drinking cup.
Maya air-dries her painting. Thanks to the tarp and James’s generous supply of towels, everybody stayed dry despite frequent cloudbursts on Saturday.
Making popcorn, Saddlebag Island. This fancy stove was also ideal for pancakes.
Maya playing in the tent. Instead of her usual stuffed dogs, Maya brought rubber ducks. This mama duck had been bad, so she had to go in the bag.
On Sunday, we lazed around camp and explored the island trails. Chelsea showed off her amazing rope-swinging and log-climbing abilities, while Maya looked for crabs under rocks.
In the afternoon, when the favorable ebb began, we crossed back to Anacortes under still, blue skies. Along the way, we encountered half a dozen seals and a couple of harbor porpoises in Guemes Channel, all of which was of immense interest to the girls.
Rope swing, Saddlebag Island. Maya watched Chelsea for a long time before deciding she wanted to try, too.
Hiking around Saddlebag Island. Open, grassy fields are a hallmark of the San Juans.
Maya playing on Saddlebag. Maya liked this dog of Chelsea’s so much she declared it a sister of Sedda, one of the principal members of Maya’s dog pack. Two years later, Chelsea gave Maya the dog to keep.
Day paddle, Saddlebag Island. James and Chelsea paddled around the south end of the island, between Saddlebag and Dot Islands.
Sunken sailboat, Saddlebag Island. “When your draft exceeds the water’s depth…”
James and Chelsea return to Seafarers’ Memorial Park. Chelsea tested whether bull kelp could be used as a fishing lure.
Looking for pebbles, Seafarers’ Memorial Park. The girls played throwing and chasing games on the beach while their dads loaded the cars.
Saddlebag Island was our best kids’ camping trip yet. Smaller than Hope or Blake Islands, it was the perfect size for two little girls to explore with their dads.
—Alex Sidles