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Writer's pictureCaitlyn Milton

Desolation Sound, British Columbia

That's a wrap


After having to cancel a trip to the Broken Group Islands (near Ucluelet) due to weather, I was eager to eke out one last trip and end my BC saga on a high note. So I did a load of laundry, re-upped on groceries, loaded up the car, waved goodbye to Vancouver Island, and took the ferry from Nanaimo to north Vancouver, where I spent a few days in Squamish (it reminds me a LOT of Boulder, only with the added benefit of being on the ocean).


I took a day to hike up to Iceberg Lake, near Whistler:



Two more ferries and a few hundred miles-drive up the gorgeous Sunshine Coast, and I landed in the quaint seaside village of Lund... only to see that a powerful wind storm had blown in. Red-flag warnings were glaring at the tops of all the major weather forecasts and verbal warnings were being repeated on the VHF weather channel. After snagging a room at the local Inn, I hunkered at the town pub and woefully watched boats get knocked about the marina and leaves be stripped and blown right off their branches.


Yeesh.


Not ready to give up and turn back, I extended my stay at the Inn another night and hoped a good weather window would materialize. The next morning, I awoke to light streaming through my window. The air was still and water calm. How could this be!? Cautiously, I walked to the local coffee shop and hot coffee in hand, walked along the harbour and even stopped in the office for a chat.


"That was some wind storm, eh?" I said.


"Sure was," the man and woman behind the office desk nodded in surprise. "It came out of nowhere."


"I was expecting it to last, but it's beautiful out right now. I'm getting conflicting forecasts... it seems like the closest marine report comes from the Straight of Georgia, north of Nanaimo, but that's pretty far away."


"Yeah, it's tough," the woman remarked, and started pulling up wind and weather forecasts on her computer.


Together, the three of us studied the data and came to a consensus; while there might be some occasional gusts, the bad weather was staying well to the south... it was actually shaping up to be decent paddling weather!


Plan A included launching from Lund, paddling up the west side of the peninsula through the Copeland Islands, up and around the point and eastward into Desolation Sound, where I'd camp for a few nights in the Curme Islands, using it as a launch site for daily explorations deeper into the Sound. On the way back, I would paddle down the Okeover Inlet, where I'd take out at the Okeover Wharf (launching and ending at different locations). Unfortunately, that was now out of the question.


On to Plan B: a day paddle to North Copeland Island where I'd take a break and eat lunch, then paddle back to Lund, where I had already extended my stay at the Inn for a second night. The following morning, I'd wake up before dawn and drive a short distance to the Okeover Wharf, where I would launch into the Okeover inlet, paddle north and east into Desolation Sound and camp for two nights on East Curme Island, with a day paddle in between to explore a little deeper into the Sound.


Paddling to the Copeland Islands (photo disclaimer: I was still really enjoying the pedicure I treated myself to while waiting out some rain in Squamish... it was the first pedicure I'd had in years! Yes my feet were gross... and yes, I apologized profusely and generously tipped my nail technician).



Okay, onto Okeover! I was up around 05:45 and unloading the kayak at the kayak launch just after sunrise, which also happened to be right after high tide, when the water would be starting to empty from the long narrow inlet back into the big open ocean. The long-term parking lot was a little over a quarter mile away, up a hill. That wouldn't have been a problem, but after unloading and parking the car, I kept realizing I'd forgotten things. I went to slide my spare paddle onto the bow deck, only to realize I'd grabbed the wrong spare set.


After running back to swap them out, I ran through my final cockpit checklist to realize I'd left my binoculars in the car. Back up I ran... (I'd come to rely on my binoculars; not only were they really fun to see wildlife up close, but I also used them to read the names of nearby vessels, read signs from afar, investigate waves and splashes along the horizon, and scout potential campsites from the water.


Just as hoped, I was cruising the ebb up Okeover! There was considerable swell and chop at the top of the point, which was to be expected, as some moderate wind was whipping around the corner, but as soon as I crossed from Gifford Peninsula to Mink Island, things calmed down.



A little under 4 hours later, I arrived to the Curme Islands and paddled around them, investigating the campsite situation.


There was no one there. No people. No boats. No kayaks. No tents.


Just a gaggle of seals and sea lions.


I decided on East Curme Island, for its eastern exposure (hello sunrises!) and elevated, cliffside views of the smaller nearby islands and mountains.




Here's how my tent was situated:






Okay, now let's talk about the tides! Where to pull up & secure kayaks on this island wasn't as obvious as it has been on other islands—especially islands that have clearly been semi-developed for the express purpose of kayak camping.


I arrived near low tide, so I pulled it as far as I could on the low beach, then used all 30 ft of my throw rope to tie it off on a big rock above. The tidal differential was about 10' (I'll have to go back and confirm) with bigger tides during the days and smaller tides over night.


The day I arrived, I would revisit my kayak every 30-45 minutes to find it free floating... so I'd pull in the slack line and pull it up onto the rocks. I repeated this until high tide, somewhere around noon. The next day when I went to explore further for the day, I had to fully empty and carry my kayak down the steep rocks and across the little bay. Here's what it looked like at different tides:



Some pictures from my Desolation Sound day paddle (from/to East Curme Island):



It truly was another exceptional experience in beautiful coastal British Columbia, and a lovely way to close out my time here. As Suz would say, "The Desolation Sound trip put a nice bow on your BC adventure!" I couldn't agree more :)


Something shifts as soon as I stretch the spray skirt around the combing and push off. By now, I have my packing down to a science and I typically have just what I need; nothing more and nothing less. The Swedes call it "lagom," and it feels good. It's somewhere between austerity and abundance, prioritizing items that are both utilitarian and delightful.


Out there, the tides are my clock. But even if I find myself unexpectedly battling a tide or chop, it's nothing to simply pull over and wait it out. I unexpectedly "waited out" fog for 30 hours on the White Cliff Islets. I made the best of it because, after all, it's not like I was expected anywhere else at any certain time.


Even when solo, I sometimes crack myself up with a hilarious thought or reminiscence of a funny moment. Sometimes I sing. Sometimes I put on music and have an impromptu dance party. I sit on rocks and watch orcas and seals through my binoculars. I wave as boats go by, making up stories about who they are and where they're going. And sometimes, especially when the sun is out, I go for a swim then fall asleep on a warm rock.


Throughout the day, my stomach reminds me to eat and when the sun goes down and I pull on my woolly cap and down jacket, I brush my teeth, wiggle into my cozy sleeping bag and read until it's too dark.



The paddle back to Okeover was overcast and drizzly. Having caught the flood back in allowed me energy to reflect, collectively, of my time in BC. Of the people and places I was ever-so-fortunate to experience, and of the people back home who've kept tabs on me these last few months.


Once I loaded the kayak and its accoutrements back into and onto my car in Okeover, I decided to go back to the Inn in Lund, and get an early start on the drive to Vancouver first thing in the morning (it required hours of driving and two ferry rides).


All checked in, and out of my wet wetsuit, I walked down to the pub to celebrate. I ordered a burger, beer, fries, salad, and a slice of carrot cake to take back and eat in my room.


But while I was eating (mind you, it was only 4:00p), I couldn't help but overhear two oldtimers at the bar. It sounded like they were from Lund. The waitress said, "happy birthday! Would you like a shot of rye?" And she proceeded to tell them about a bottle that just so happened to share the last name of some very close friends.... so I walked over and asked if I could take a picture to send to them.


"Aw hell, I'll have a shot, too," I said, and clinked glasses with the oldtimers.


What brings you here?" one asked.


"I just got back from paddling up in Desolation Sound, but I'm celebrating the end to a larger BC adventure."


Anywho, the convo turned to them asking, "What do you do for work?"


After some thought, I replied, "I'm a writer." It seemed easier than explaining what I actually do for work.


"Really!? the other lit up, "Me too!"


I immediately regretted it, afraid he'd call my bluff and follow up with, "What have you written?" He didn't (phew).


Not only had he been published, but he whipped out a copy of his book from his jacket, signed it to me, and handed it over, "From one starving artist to another."


How cool :)


Winding down & heading home

I'm writing this from the ninth floor of a hotel in downtown Vancouver. Despite it being a beautiful city, one of few cities I could call home, it's a culture shock. From my room I hear honking horns from impatient drivers below and see crowds of people walking the sidewalks at a quick clip—often with earbuds in their ears.

My room has a kitchenette, and a few minutes ago when making food I washed my one and only eating utensil; my spoon. As I held it under the stream of water from the faucet, rinsing off the salty sea crystals, I became sad.


Sitting in this climate-controlled box feels... wrong. To the contrary, nothing feels cleaner, more comfortable—more right—than the cool evening breeze on warm sun-kissed skin while drifting asleep to the lullaby of splashing seals and lapping waves.


Signing off... for now. Thanks for tuning in <3


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5 Comments


Great pictures, thanks for sharing your experiences, the joys and the disappointments. Like I always say, I feel like I was on tis trip with you!😘

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John Hofius
John Hofius
4 days ago

Ms. Laurel,


The photos and the videos look great! Were those taken with your phone camera? And such incredible scenery!


When you were on East Come Island, it was crazy to see how much the tides affected where you could secure your kayak! 


I wonder what you have been reading during your trip? And you drove so much! I went through Vancouver years ago, although not at all by the methods you traveled, which look to be great fun. I remember driving onto the ferry and being chartered across the water to various islands. What an adventureous way to travel.


Also, I was glad to see you presented yourself to the old-timers at the pub as a writer. That’s great…


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Caitlyn Milton
Caitlyn Milton
4 days ago
Replying to

Hi John! As usual, I'm "reading" a few books simultaneously... including a history of Tofino and Clayoquot Sound, Letters from a Stoic (Seneca), and The Curve of Time (a BC classic by M. Wylie Blanchet). How're you doing? Sending you a message now, too :)

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Does that mean you'll head back through Invermere???🙏🏻🙏🏻

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Caitlyn Milton
Caitlyn Milton
4 days ago
Replying to

I wish! But alas, I'll be heading south from here and east through Washington... I hope to get up your way again soon though. I'll send you a message... been thinking about you!

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