My son, Leon, was sorry to have missed the kayaking trip to Jones Island earlier this month with me and my daughter, Maya. Leon wanted a trip, too!
At the same time, Maya and I wished we could have made it to Sucia Island, our original destination for the Jones Island trip. The solution was staring us in the face: a trip to Sucia Island with Leon. Leon had been to Sucia Island before. It was one of his favorite camping islands, so he quickly agreed.
At ages six and nine, the kids were getting a little big to fit both of them in the same kayak as me. Add all the sleeping bags and other gear for three people, and it was a lot to fit in just one boat. I wanted a second adult in a second boat for this trip, but my wife, Rachel, was out of town. Luckily, Grandpa John was available for the weekend.
Route map. The parking lot at North Beach can get crowded during the summer, but ours was the only car in the lot now in mid-April.
The passage between Orcas Island’s North Beach and Sucia Island can be challenging to cross in a kayak. Currents across the top of Orcas can run over three knots, which is fast enough even in a wide channel. Here, though, the currents are further channelized by Parker Reef in the middle of the passage, which increases the current speed and generates tide races and whirlpools downstream of the reef.
During the outbound crossing on Saturday, we had a five-knot wind but less than two knots of current. During the return crossing on Sunday, we had almost calm wind but nearly the full three-knot strength of current. The outbound crossing was a little choppier due to the breeze, while the return crossing was a more difficult navigational challenge due to the stronger current.
Conditions on Sunday were rough enough that we kept our radios and GPS units switched on during the crossing but not so rough that we were ever tempted to call in the water taxi—something I have done on a couple of previous trip to Sucia Island with Maya.
The dogs are all lined up, ready to go. Sitting on their drybag, from left to right: Ruby and Sam, Biscuit and Chips, Strawberry Dog and Sedda and Rose and Olivia and Sparky and Buddy and Cleocatra.
Alex paddling into Fossil Bay, Sucia Island. Fossil Bay is both the nearest and the nicest campground on Sucia Island.
Grandpa John and Leon, Little Sucia and Sucia Islands in background. On the outbound leg, we split the kids between the two kayaks, but we put them both in the same kayak during the return leg.
Maya riding in kayak, Patos and Sucia Islands in background. The warm sun led us to take off our jackets, but a cool breeze soon made us regret that idea.
Grandpa John and Leon kayaking past Saturna Island. Even our clumsy, heavy, rudderless folding kayaks—which we have named the Great Satan and the Lesser Satan—were easily able to handle the conditions during this crossing.
Mount Baker seen from North Beach. Beautiful mountains are visible in all four directions in the San Juans, and this mountain is the most beautiful of them all.
Splendid iridescent seaweed, North Beach. When the light catches it just so, the fronds of this species reflect an incredible iridescent purple.
The seabirds were on the move. Most of the overwintering birds had already gone, although we did see a single surf scoter and a small flock of white-winged scoters. We saw no grebes, loons, or mergansers, which typically make up the bulk of the seabirds on the inland waters during winter. In consolation, we did pass through a couple of large flocks of Bonaparte’s gulls. These had probably begun their spring migration northward. They were already in their black-headed plumage—one of the handsomest of any gull species.
As Maya and I paddled into Fossil Bay, we spotted a river otter swimming on the surface. It dived as soon as it noticed us. We figured it would probably swim away. Instead, it popped up right next to our boat with a fish in its mouth! It clambered out of the water onto the rocky shoreline to eat. We passed by so close we could hear it chewing. Back into the water it dived, and this time it popped up so close that it gave Maya a start. It climbed up and over a nearly-submerged boulder and disappeared back into the water. We were left with the strong impression that it had been playing with us.
Sucia Island is the most reliable place I know to find purple finches in western Washington. Sure enough, a pair of finches were here on Sunday morning, traveling among a large flock of sparrows. The sparrow species included white-crowned, golden-crowned, song, fox, and savannah sparrows, as well as Oregon juncos and spotted towhees, both of which are also members of the sparrow family.
The only warblers on the island were orange-crowned and yellow-romped, both of which Maya and I had already seen a week and a half earlier during our visit to Jones Island. The other warbler species must not have arrived yet.
Bonaparte’s gulls off Sucia Island. Their black heads stand out from a great distance, even when other gull species are present.
River otter, Fossil Bay. This was Maya’s first face-to-face encounter with a wild otter.
River otter shaking off water. This otter and a few Steller sea lions were the only marine mammals we saw on this trip.
Harlequin duck, Fox Cove. This was the most numerous species of sea duck we encountered.
Golden-crowned sparrow, Sucia Island. This overwintering bird will soon migrate north to breed.
White-crowned sparrow, Sucia Island. Unlike the golden-crowned sparrow, the white-crowned sparrow is a year-round species.
Orange-crowned warbler, Sucia Island. A handful of orange-crowned warbler overwinter in Washington, but most are migrants, arriving to breed in large numbers as early as March.
There were plenty of yachts in the bay, but we were the only kayakers. The yachties came ashore during the day to walk their dogs and stretch their legs, but we were the only overnight campers.
Grandpa John was the only one of us four who had not previously camped on Sucia Island. He took advantage of the chance to hike some of the island’s trails, but Sucia Island is too large to be explored in the course of a single weekend. Grandpa John tried to locate some of the ancient, scribed bearing trees that dot the island, but he did not have any more luck in his search than I’d had in mine the previous fall.
The kids stayed in camp. They played roughhouse games in the tent, clambered over the driftwood on the beach, waded in Fossil Bay and Fox Cove, and read books and listened to stories all weekend.
We awoke to a ten-knot wind on Sunday morning. Owing to the rapid currents and the constriction at Parker Reef, ten knots of wind can be a lot to handle in the passage between Sucia and Orcas Islands. Luckily, the wind dropped to almost zero by the time we had loaded up the boats.
Grandpa John hiking Sucia Island. Grandpa John wore his fleece “supersuit” day and night, in the boat and on land.
Leon leaping across driftwood. The beach at Fossil Bay is composed of gravel and pebbles at high tide, mudflat at low tide.
Grandpa John settling in for the evening. Grandpa John slept out under the stars, as he often does on these trips.
Maya and Leon in tent. The kids stayed warm in their winter-weight down sleeping bags, although they did appreciate a couple of chemical hand warmers.
Holding a fossiliferous cobble, Sucia Island. Most of the fossils on Sucia Island are clams, but there are a handful of more exciting creatures such as ammonites and nautiluses, and once even a dinosaur: the Suciasaurus, the only dinosaur ever discovered in Washington.
Leon and Maya riding in kayak off Sucia Island. The short crossing to Orcas Island took us an hour and a half, fighting currents the whole way.
Grandpa John paddling off Sucia Island. In the midst of the tide races, our heading often had to offset ninety degrees or more from our course.
In school the next morning, all the students in Maya’s class had to say what their favorite thing had been over spring break. Maya described the wild otter of Sucia Island.
I liked the otter, too, but it was not my favorite thing. My favorite thing was being with my beloved family. The otter, the island, and even the trip itself were merely the stage, not the show.
—Alex Sidles