Photography and Kayaking in the Bunsby Islands

After a successful adventure in the Jervis Inlet in 2017 with dear friends Lynn Fox and Eric Faucher, they had an interest in 2018 in returning to the Bunsby Islands, located on the northwest side of Vancouver Island near the Brooks Peninsula, British Columbia, Canada.

Remote locations are something that promise beauty and a certain amount of vulnerability to the elements and other unknowns. Traveling with experienced friends helps in innumerable ways. It's enjoyable and relaxing to feel like you are tagging along to an area that is new to you but well known to them.

Lynn and Eric with a friend

Getting to the Bunsby Islands is quite a trek from Portland, Oregon. Making the travel more pleasant is the extensive ferry services in the U.S. and in British Columbia. Avoidance of the densely populated areas of Tacoma/Seattle makes a better and more interesting experience and extends the time spent on and near the water. The drive up the west side of Hood Canal and then ferry over to Whidbey Island, with just 40 miles of freeway over the border to Tsawwassen, BC is ideal.

Sunset at Deception Pass, Washington

I met Lynn and Eric in Campbell River. We traveled north towards Port Hardy then west on a very challenging logging road across Vancouver Island to Fair Harbour. Lingering smoke and a few firefighters were around from lightning fires right along the road. We met our water taxi host, Leo Jack, a Kyuquot tribal member with a lot of experience and many stories to share. He transported us past his village, weaving around islands and sea otters to Barney Island in the Bunsbys.

Morning transport with our Water Taxi Host Leo Jack

Barney Island is such a great location we thought we would stay for a few days and use it as a base camp for exploration. The air has a fresh, almost perfumed, cedar like scent. One night we were awoken at 4:30a by the sound of wolves howling back and forth right in our camp area. I got up to take a look with a bright, waning gibbous moon surrounded by a giant, mysterious looking ring.  I didn't see them, but it's possible they saw me.

A rainy day, deep in the wilds of an inlet

Sea Otter resting-and watching me-very attentively

Sunset on Barney Island

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Our next camp was closer to open ocean, with clear turquoise water, a beautiful small sand beach, with the occasional otter floating by. We were alone in this most quiet and peaceful place.

Idyllic campsite with sand and driftwood

One of the best photography days started early with a beautiful sunrise.

Sunrise over Vancouver Island

 We also had remarkably calm conditions on the open ocean to photograph a very interesting islet with beautiful kelp, clouds, rocks and the wind and sea battered trees. We circumnavigated this islet for various angles and interesting compositions.

Islet with Bull Kelp, from the west

An Otter's view of this lovely Bull Kelp

Islet with Kelp and Spruce Trees,  from the north

Photographic success was also complimented by fishing success, with Eric catching some nice cod for dinner.

 That evening we were entertained by a quite spectacular view of the Milky Way, with bright Mars in the south.

Milky Way and Mars from our campsite beach

With a threatening forecast, we needed to head somewhere more protected, so we circuitously returned to Barney Island. Saw some bear scat on the north part of the island, but no bears.

One can expect to have any kind of weather here, and we did have a bit of everything, with many fair and pleasant days. Storms were moving in, so we had to hunker down. Sure enough, the wind and rain made an appearance, and it was time to retreat. Leo found a small window between storms and came to get us and return us safely to Vancouver Island.

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Addendum

Although the Bunsbys were spectacular in many respects, there were not many sea birds. Another area that contains fond memories over many years is the Puget Sound and San Juan Island region of Washington. After camping at Larabee State Park on my way home from the Bunsbys, I made a morning stop on the Lummi Reservation just west of Bellingham to dry out some gear and look for bird photography possibilities. One memory is having my first NW oysters here, gathered on Portage Island in 1977 after moving from Wisconsin in 1975.

Comical Black Oystercatchers near Lummi Island, San Juan Islands.

A collection of photographs may be seen here>

Kayaking in Dream Land

Over the years, when taking the ferry from Earl's Cove to Saltery Bay on Jervis Inlet in the resplendent Coast Mountains of British Columbia, there is an area that looked ideal for exploration by kayak; Hotham Sound. Much of this area has dodged many of the ravages of resource extraction and has a reputation of calm and warm water, surrounded by granite peaks, forest and a 300 meter waterfall. What could be better.

Experiences like this are often solo adventures, but on this trip friends and fellow kayakers Lynn Fox and Eric Faucher joined me at Skookumchuck Inlet (famous for its tidal surge further up the Inlet) to explore this area. They brought a calm, very experienced and spirited sense of adventure, and had prepared an amazing menu. What a luxury.

Heading across Jervis Inlet

 We left on a warm clear day, with a building westerly wind. One aspect of many of these inlets are the steep rock walls and very few places to stop. Local knowledge is a big asset here. After deciding the wind was getting the better of us, we headed up Jervis Inlet to stay in a nice location for two nights.

The weather was calm and clear as we headed to Hotham Sound. After a bit of a search we found a great location with a nice stream nearby. Lynn prepared another fine meal and we photographed the Milky Way.

Southern Milky Way over Jervis Inlet

Kayaking here was a dream. We had calm waters, beautiful light, a great little storm, and more stars in the moonless evenings.

Approaching Storm

Beautiful Morning Light

In the entire trip, we didn't see any other kayakers  and very few boats went by. It's great to have a home base and simply explore an area. We really only scratched the surface and will certainly return to this fantastic area, off the beaten path.

Kayak Photography Trip to Desolation Sound, British Columbia, Canada

Desolation Sound in British Columbia, Canada, was named by Captain George Vancouver in 1792 while he was carefully surveying and charting the B.C. coast, in search of the mysterious Northwest passage and to claim the area territory for the crown. He stated "...there was not a single prospect that was pleasing to the eye". Normally he named locations after people. Few places are so named here.

Today Desolation Sound is far from desolate. In the summer it is a bustling, busy place with every type and size of vessel plying it's waters. In the autumn, the rains really start settling in and most everyone leaves, leaving it quiet and peaceful. This is when I enjoy coming here.

Desolation Sound on the final day

Photography and kayaking are idyllic here; soaring granite mountains descending into the sea, beautiful forests, wildlife in the water and on the shore, interesting people close to the land and sea. I beg to differ with Captain Vancouver's assessment.

Goals are tempered by the vagaries of weather. Here in the Northwest, storms can come at any time, with the likelihood of challenging weather increasing as September comes to a close. Temperatures are falling, but hopes rise of the chance for beautiful snow on the upper peaks.

Jervis Inlet exhales in the morning, between storms

After weathering a few strong storms, a break came to paddle the oyster laden Okeover Inlet to Malaspina Inlet, camping at Hare Point, part of the Desolation Sound Marine Provincial Park. I frightened a scrambling family of River Otters upon my arrival. No one else was there. A condition that remained for the duration of my visit.

Malaspina Inlet from Hare Point

Spending days waiting for the weather to improve, continuous entertainment was provided by Steller Sea Lions catching salmon. Sitting on the Point with my chair, camera and umbrella, I watched them chasing down, flinging, chomping and swallowing whole, large Chinook Salmon. Along with the Salmon attempting to head upsteam, every day 6-10 Sea Lions would arrive with the incoming current. The Harbor Seals were also making quite a showing. Bald Eagles watched from the trees.

Sea Lion Salmon breakfast at Malaspina Inlet

Stellar Sea Lions are big. Very big. Their heads are the same size as a Brown (Grizzly) Bear, and they have no shortage of very large, nasty looking teeth. They look especially large when they are grunting 10 feet from your little boat. They come right up to you, sometimes making rather loud blowing sounds, sometimes following you around, but they never felt seriously threatening, yet. They are big, fast and dangerous. I always talk to them. In times past, we were a major predator of them.

Large teeth 10 feet from my kayak-deemed curious, not threatening

 After a cold front past in the evening, there was some clearing in the morning, so I packed up and headed for the Curmie Islands, which were about 6 miles away. Greeted by a 15+ knot north head wind, there was also plenty of distance to the north for the wind to build a rather large sea. Hard paddling for 2 hours netted 1 mile of forward progress. The waves were reflecting off the cliffs beyond the headland to create quite a show of breaking waves and chaos, known as clapotis. Retreating from this growing concern brought relief, and I was back with my Sea Lion friends at Hare Point in 20 minutes. Time for chocolate.

Majestic Bald Eagle taking a rest

Milky Way from Malaspina Inlet

The next day was clear and beautifully calm. I paddled out a few miles to the main part of Desolation Sound to photograph the islands and Coast Mountains. It was infinitely easier than the day before. Fog banks created some very beautiful patterns.  Fresh water was a disappearing commodity at camp with no fresh water source nearby, so I needed to head back to Okeover. It was a long day of paddling, but a satisfying one. It was further enhanced by another delicious meal at the Laughing Oyster. 

Oyster boat on Desolation Sound in the early morning

 I explored some areas near Okeover Inlet that were recommended to me by first nation folks, then headed back via ferry to Jervis Inlet, making note of next year's destination, Hotham Sound. Paddled out to the photogenic Harbor Seals in Sechelt Inlet, then out to Jervis Inlet for the wonderful peaks descending into the depths of the sea. 

No snow on the peaks this trip. Guess I'll have to return!

Harbor Seals at Sechelt Inlet

Soaring peaks in Jervis Inlet

A collection of images can be seen here>>