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04/24 thru 29/09 – PUGET SOUND CHALLENGE – ONE WAY ALLYN TO BELFAIRPADDLERS: DAVE DOUGHERTY, LISA JOHNSONSIGHTED: PUPPY(!), SEALS, EAGLES, GBH, MERGANSERS, LOON, MALLARDS, RACOONS, DEER, OSPREY04/24/09 – FRI – ALLYN TO ANDERSON ISLAND. 17.5 NM. PATCHY FOG, THEN CLEAR AND SUNNY. WIND IN LATE EVENING. TEMPS IN 60’S.
I headed to Belfair, arriving about 0800 as Dave and I had agreed the night before. I introduced myself to the other two rangers in their office and then Dave and I headed out in his truck to Allyn. No reporters here – just a cute dog wagging her tail as Dave and I quietly grinned at each other and at 0920 started the first of what will be about 54,000 strokes. We aimed for the distant gap between Herron Island and the mainland. We made fast time as the sun slowly came out of the high fog.
We had a slow-down in the channel due to shallow water. It was a few more miles to Joemma Beach where we hauled out at the public dock to have lunch. The ebb tide had already maxed but it wasn’t too long before we got to the tip of the peninsula. Dave wanted to push on towards the Narrows – we both did, actually – but I wasn’t too keen at doing it against a 4.4 flood that would be maxing right about the time we rounded the corner towards the bridge and campsite. So we pressed on in the channel crossing over to Anderson.
It wasn’t until we reached the island that the current seemed to shift against us. It was warm and sunny and we set up camp. The wind had picked up fiercely during dinner and was still blowing at 2100. My new watch/barometer said sun for tomorrow.
04/25/09 – SAT ANDERSON ISLAND TO BLAKE ISLAND. 30 NM. S WINDS 10-15 KTS IN A.M. WITH WW 1’+ UNTIL 0900. PARTLY SUNNY WITH LIGHT RAIN, CLEARING MID AFTERNOON. TEMPS 40-60S.
We got off in the nicely high tide at 07:20. My boat immediately began listing to the left and I wondered if it was the packing before I saw Dave doing the same. It continued more or less until we got between McNeil and Anderson. The seals around Eagle Island were not as plentiful as I’ve seen them before but just as delightful. Dave said I had three following me for quite some time right off my stern.
We passed much closer to the jail than I cared for and probably should have. By the time we rounded the outside of Fox and eventually turned the corner for the Narrows, the wind had died. Listening to the approaching roar of the bridge traffic and a train going by on the opposite side made us grateful that we stayed the night on quiet Anderson Island.
The current was still strong – at least 4 knots – by the time we got to the bridge about 10:30, about an hour after max. We stayed to the left as we crossed the channel to catch the best flow and it paid off. We really rolled along and made the 4 miles past Gig Harbor in about 45 minutes, arriving at Richmond Point at 11:30 for lunch. We were ready to go at noon.
We’d agreed not to stop at Lisabuela although I recognized it as we went by. Just as I remarked to Dave that the calm, cloudy skies and comfortable temps were just right for paddling the rain moved in, but a light sprinkle was all we got. However, it did obscure our view.
As we approached the northern mouth of Colvos, I headed for shore, as I could feel the incoming flood. Hugging the shore, we finally rounded Southworth Point and there was the ferry. It had just unloaded its pedestrians and bikes so I had plenty of time to scoot across the back end and head for the familiar shores of Blake.
The tide was out but we had the campsite to ourselves.
The sun broke just as we rounded the NW corner and were heading for the sandy beach ... timing can’t get better than that! Unpacking had to be fast because the shallow beach allows the water to flow in fast. Soon we had happy hour and dinner in the slight breeze and warm sunshine. We agreed to stop about every 2 hours for the rest of the trip, as it gets tedious in the boat for such long periods.
04/26/09 – SUN. BLAKE ISLAND TO POINT NO POINT. 23 NM. PATCHY FOG, THEN CLEAR AND SUNNY, SLIGHT SOUTHERLY BREEZE, TEMPS SAME.
Today was foggy to start with so of course everything was soggy. MOISTURE + SAND = MESS when packing. We took off at 07:25 in low fog. I could see the skyline of Seattle but we had a hard time making out the coastline of Bainbridge. I radioed vessel traffic and they confirmed that the blast we heard was the eastbound ferry entering the passage so we waited, paddling east.
Then Dave saw another one approaching from the east so we waited for that one to go by too before crossing. We kept on, steadily making good time with the fog lifting as we headed north. We pulled up to Fay Bainbridge Park fairly early where Dave got out and got some water. We then went past Point Jefferson across the bay for 3 miles.
We were making a lot of correcting strokes or adjusting our paddles to compensate for the push against our sterns. At 11:30, we had lunch and I figured we’d covered half the course in about 4 hours, courtesy of the ebb. We took off half an hour later.
Now we had to hug the shore to catch the back eddies from the incoming flood. We agreed an ice cream run wasn’t worth the 2 miles diversion to Kingston. We waited a bit for the ferry to pull out finally. I glanced back; we were directly opposite of Mary Tax’s house and I felt a sadness swell in my heart.
We finally got going again and plodded on.
The beaches extended way out, causing me to keep scraping sand and rocks with paddle and sometimes hull. I stopped a couple of times to nibble snacks and got out once at our appointed time just to walk up and down the beach. Once past Kingston the shoreline changed. The houses turned into the occasional house with mostly high vertical sandstone cliffs and lots of trees and foliage.
There were a couple of places where people were stealth camping - or just burning fires. One group of drinking young men made me angry….it looked like they were burning one of the huge fallen trees. I didn’t say anything, but they must have caught my disgusted stare, as they got quiet when I went by.
We kept going north and I knew we were approaching Point No Point. At a public access, I saw a car pull up with a kayak on top. I hopped out as Dave waited and went to talk to the woman who was untying the boat and then heard my name called. Vadim Kim came around from the other side of the car! He introduced me to his wife Martine and said PNP was about a mile north and the RV Park was on the other side of the lighthouse. He offered to accompany us, but we regretfully declined due to lack of time, so he said he would see us later.
We finally made it around the pretty white and red lighthouse to see a busy scene. A row of houses set back from the beach, lots of people, dogs and some kids riding horses. The park was next to the lighthouse and a large white house set back next to an old storage building behind the boat rails.
The office and camping area were in the back of the building. Vadim came up in his boat just as we reached the boat rails. We could see an open space behind the large white house and I went to the front door and knocked.
A nice lady named Sharon came around from the back and said although she wasn’t officially open we were welcome to store our kayaks there and camp on the grass behind the cabins closer to the road under the trees.
The adjacent area is for the RV’s. She apologized that the showers hadn’t been cleaned since last fall, but that there was hot water and we were welcome to use them. With many thanks, we paid her the $12 and began moving our stuff. Though the wind blew strongly on the beach, it was much quieter and sunny where we were.
Our boats looked safe and snug next to the shed behind a large bush.
I hastily laid out my rainfly and suit to dry in the weakening sun and breeze. I made and ate dinner in the wind down by the beach, using the small wall as a cooking area. Martine came by with the refilled water bottle that I had loaned Vadim. We had declined their kind offers to bring us anything that we might need from a store, but Vadim thoughtfully provided me with a power bar.
Martine told us that Kitsap County has the fewest public water access points per capita than any other county in the entire Puget Sound. She visited us a bit and left. The bathroom facility was very clean and stocked with paper towels if not TP.
I contemplated the shower situation, which was actually clean, but the manipulation of the taps was more than what I wanted to mess with – I would have had to stand on the chair. I didn’t have a regular towel anyway. So instead, I washed my hair, face and teeth with the warm water from the slow draining sink, put on some lotion, two layers of clothes and went to bed.
04/27/09 – MON PNP TO TRITON COVE 34 NM. SUNNY, N WIND 10-15 KNOTS, RISING IN AFTERNOON, 1-3+ WW AT VARIOUS POINTS, CALM AROUND SOUTHERN POINT OF PENINSULA, TEMPS 40-60S.
I slept well for the first time in 3 nights and awoke at 08:00 to a nice dry tent. Once packed up, I sat on a bag by my stuff and ate breakfast. I had 3 blisters trying to form on my right hand so I taped them up from my first aid kit. We headed out after Dave was ready about 09:45. We were riding the floods so didn’t have to launch so early.
The breeze was strong as took off in the 1’+ chop towards Foulweather Bluff. We crossed the rows of houses again along the shore with people walking along, many with dogs and kids on a sunny Sunday morning. The northern breeze got stronger and the waves higher the closer we got to the point. Dave was in front as I popped through the fun little 2-3’ breakers. The wind seemed to die once we got around the southern corner and things smoothed out a bit.
Once we cleared the Bluff, the Hood Canal welcomed us with 2’+ following seas as the wind began to rise. But the waves were easy to anticipate and fairly regular and overall pretty gentle. The sun shone brightly and I could see the spit between Hood Island and the peninsula south of Port Ludlow.
I voiced a concern to Dave that the waves might be breaking on the spit by the time we got there. No problem as it turned out, and we didn’t have to go out as far as I thought we might. I was amazed to see a house on the northeast side! As we approached the spit, I saw tree branches sticking up out of the sand that looked exactly like a Loch Ness Monster! As we were looking at it Dave said, “There’s an osprey” and I looked up to see a lovely specimen hovering about 15’ directly above our heads.
Its eyes looked at us intently for a few moments before its wings twitched and it flew away. All dark, tan and white underneath with a big wingspan…what a special treat that was! =))))We hauled up on the quiet side for our half-hour lunch in the warm sun. The tide flat was teeming – sand dollars from white to brown, moon snail casings, crabs, oyster shells – wow, so much life. There was a sign posted, stating that the Nature Conservancy owns part of this island and then I remembered the controversy of this place.
A big barge with a crane structure was floating in the bay; Dave guessed it’s being used as a staging area for the equipment to work on the Hood Canal Bridge. You can’t see the bridge until you get around Hood Island. We saddled up after our regular half hour and off again at 12:30.
We made fast time, albeit with corrective strokes with the wind behind us. I’d switched to the Werner Ikelos paddle to try to take advantage of that but it didn’t last long. It was very noisy and felt surprisingly awkward so I soon switched back to my wonderful Beale stick. Soon we were under the bridge with its barges and work crews busily ignoring us as we glided by.
We were moving pretty fast, judging by the anchored barges.
I tried Dave’s system of being closer to shore. It did turn out to be rewarding – plenty of north facing beaches with fun waves breaking on their shores. I wanted to surf and play a bit but maybe on another trip. We pressed on, taking our more or less scheduled breaks. Now we were being accompanied by the noise of the 101 along the Tonandos Peninsula. But we made it to the end of that peninsula by 17:00. I felt very good. Maybe it was the very sweet and gooey power bar that Vadim had given me.
Dave said he was fine and though the flood wasn’t doing much for us, it was still going with us. We were now in the lee of the wind so our water flattened out accordingly and our push was over. I calculated we had about 9 miles to go to Triton and we agreed to go for it. We would be hitting it close with the approx 3 hours of daylight we had left.
The 5-mile crossing to the first point seemed to take a long time, especially towards the end. Fortunately, the scenery was spectacular. The Olympics were looking particularly lovely and so close I felt like I could touch them. Dark clouds were gathering and the sun ducked in and out of them, highlighting the clouds and the Olympics with golden light. It brought Sibelius’ 5th to mind as I began to hum. We finally made the point and just kept on stroking.
The wind and sunshine held steady but once we got to the other side, the wind seemed to drop off almost completely at times. The shafts of light were beginning to fade as we pressed on. Dave eventually increased the distance between us when crossing bays; I struggled to stay on course with the NW wind coming across my bow.
I lost him in the gloom and with increasing concern, I moved closer to the shore. I was contemplating a point and wondering if I should just cut across, when I saw a road going up the hill from the shore that looked familiar. Then I finally saw the dock just below it and knew that that was it. As usual, it looks completely different at high tide. Dave was already unloading. I unpacked clumsily in the failing light.
Dave had already set up camp above as I trudged up the road to the campsite with my first load. I finally finished unloading my boat and then paddled it over to the boat launch where I carried it to a small retaining wall and embankment for the night.
With my strobe light on, I sat and ate my cold leftovers. Then I took a few biscuits and walked in the dark to the end of the dock. Something fluttered by; I doubt that it was a bat. A sliver of a moon shown from behind clouds and I didn’t need my barometer to know that it would be raining by morning.
I went back “upstairs” and set up my tent after using the very clean – and actually CLEAN SMELLING – Sanican! I threw my stuff in, wrapped up my still wet shoes and suit, put on another layer of clothing, blew up the sleeping pad and crawled into my bag. All my bags inside the tent were wet, but that’s the way it goes.
04/28/09 – TUES – TRITON TO POTLATCH 16 NM. CLOUDY, AM SPRINKLES UNTIL AFTERNOON, SEA CALM, TEMPS 40-60S.
Dave helped me carry my boat down to the dock, although he insisted on carrying his own boat himself to the beach. I packed my boat after hauling my kit down to it, stashed a Larabar in my PFD and ate the other 2 cereal bars when I was finished packing. Then I discovered my foot peg was missing and to my fury had to unpack the boat again until I found it hiding up near the bow. Dave was ready by the time I was done.
It had started raining about 04:00 and was still at it; all our stuff was soaked. Jeez, do I hate packing a wet tent. We started out in a slight southern breeze and as we moved along, the rain gradually lightened up and the sky brightened. We stopped for our lunch break at Octopus Point. Dave said it’s a popular dive spot, as there is a sudden and very deep drop off right off shore.
Sea lions were hauled out on floating docks in a couple of locations and there were LOTS of cute seals. I’d kind of wanted to go on and finish up the additional 13 miles or so at Belfair, but Dave seemed anxious to camp at Potlatch again and I said what the hey, I could use a short day. We made it there easily about 15:30.
The minus tide was way out but not bad, and moving up fast as we unloaded in the now weak sunshine but at least it wasn’t raining. I pitched my tent and hung my clothesline in the shelter. Dave chose to use a campsite. I offered him my tarp but he said he was ok without one. Potlatch is the only campsite I can think of besides Pelican that has a covered shelter and the tables are all nice and clean.
There were two tables under the shelter and three out of it, one next to where we stored the boats. I made up some hot chocolate and we had a nice long table to use for cooking. The bathroom is VERY clean and I went there after I’d cleaned up and put everything away and buttoned up my boat for the night. The tide had risen dramatically and I’m glad I pulled her up beside the picnic table instead of just the grass in the front ... she does love to run away when my back is turned!
It’s now about 21:30 and raining steadily as I write. Earlier I was looking up at the dark blue and rose-colored, darkening skies and the pale shining ribbon of the Hood Canal with its purple mountains and hills on both sides. My barometer says clouds and sun which is VERY encouraging for tomorrow. Just now, there was a bolt of lightning and a very LONG roll of thunder...about 15 seconds! I’m REALLY glad that I’m under this shelter.
04/29/09 – WED. POTLATCH TO BELFAIR, 13 NM. PARTLY CLOUDY, SEAS CALM, TEMPS 40-60’S.
I think last night WAS a warning about my being so smug. But what a treat I had…a Loon Symphony. Two loons were calling when Dave and I rolled in yesterday. Last night Anna’s Bay had lots of them singing and calling from one side to the other for at least a minute. I lay in my tent, pulled out me earplugs and, barely breathing, listened to what I think is one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. I never get tired of hearing loons’ cries across the water.
I had no idea they are out in the dark too! It made my cold feet and all the miles worthwhile. I got up at 08:00 today and it didn’t take too long to get packed up and move out on the ebbing tide after chatting with the nice couple who live next door to the park. We took off on the 90° heading on the quiet channel, with a few seals following us. Over my left shoulder, I watched the Canal and Olympics sliding away with every stroke and sadly said goodbye until next time when it vanished.
We were now paddling under dead calm water that mirrored the puffy white clouds and blue sky with the morning sun under our boats. I love that ... it makes you feel like you are flying through clouds instead of paddling through water. We did haul out about two-thirds of the way down but just had a snack instead of lunch as we figured we’d be at Belfair heading for the car in about 1-½ hours.
There were quite a few oyster hunters grubbing in the sand; they hardly looked up as we went by. That looks like a lot of hard work. I hadn’t paid much attention to the tide table, as there are practically no currents at this end of the canal.
It was a mistake.
We finally were approaching our take out when my boat slid to a halt at the water’s edge in the sea grass. Over the kayak gods’ laughing in my head, I said out loud, “Dave, there is nothing funny about this.”
I was looking at oyster diggers on the park shore about 1/4 of a mile away. I figured it was about a mile to where the car was parked and there was no way that boats – empty, let alone loaded – could be carried or dragged across that mud and oyster shell muck.
Dave observed that at least we had paddled the entire Canal – there was no water left on this end. We finally decided that I would get up to the park and bring the car while he towed my boat back across the bay to a boat launch about a mile back.
Eventually I made it back to solid ground and after some directions from some kind locals, I got to the car and went to go check with the rangers. They welcomed me back gleefully, congratulated us and said they were just wondering when we were expecting to come back with a minus tide.
They said they have rescued plenty of folks off that mudflat. I thanked them and then drove the 1.6 miles up to the boat launch where I found Dave and the two boats in some stinking, black, greasy mud and pretty putrid water at the bottom of the ramp. It took a bit to get everything loaded and ourselves washed off and changed, Dave with his leftover camping water, me with the jug I keep in the car, and then we left for Allyn to get his truck.
We transferred his stuff and then went to Leonard K’s just up the road on the left side where I was served a chicken sandwich, fries and a Coke by a very cheerful waitress – I couldn’t eat it all. Then I took off and got home around 6:00, I think. I washed the boat, my PFD, spray skirt and drysuit with soap and also rinsed all my dry bags. With my gear hanging to dry, my trip was officially over.
My Lessons Learned:
- Test EVERYTHING – don’t take for granted before trips that the pad that worked three months ago will still be in the same condition. Luckily, the tent didn’t leak.
- When going for miles without a base camp, pack more snacks as opposed to food that has to be prepared or cooked. The nuts worked well for a snack. I never had to use cheese though.
- When you break camp every day, don’t bring pajamas.
- Bring a variation of lunchmeat; I got tired of the turkey. Or just eat cold leftovers from the night before.
- Pack flour, not corn, tortillas.
If confronted with a situation where you have to split up:
- Test the radios BEFORE splitting up. Set up a backup communication plan if possible.
- Don’t leave your position until at least one in your party has safely reached a destination ... for me in this case, the road. After Dave left, I lost the option of backtracking to my boat and then both of us going to the boat launch. A longer walk, but at least it was safe.
So we completed our goal. I think it was 134 nm, which equals about 153 land miles. It would almost have seemed too easy had it not been for that last mile!
A huge THANK YOU and job well done to fellow paddler Dave Dougherty ... he is just amazing to paddle and camp with! I would also like to say thank you again to folks for their donations: Dori Andre, Steve Kendall, Kirt Lenerd, Mark and Lorraine Pedersen, and LaVerne Woods.
Together we raised at least $600 for the WA Water Trails Association!
Thank you to the staff for all of the parks and campsites we went to and to the rangers for accommodating us with parking and security for our cars. Also thanks to Bill Walker for his help on campsites and to John Kuntz of the Olympic Outdoor Center for all his encouragement and advice, and to Julie Anderson and Sarah Krueger of the Washington Water Trails Association for their camping permissions and support.
And to Vadim and Martine ... it was an unexpected pleasure to run into a familiar face!Last but not least, I dedicated this effort to my friend and mentor, Mary Tax. This trip was full of happy memories of the times when I was one of the countless paddlers she taught and encouraged. Mary, your strong and adventurous spirit is always with me with every stroke – thank you.
To find out more about the Challenge go to http://www.olympickayakclub.com/the-challenge.html.
Happy paddles,
Lisa A. Johnson |
