Winter Storm at Hug Point

Large storm waves are a grand attraction on the Pacific and can make for drama and also danger. These are not really "sneaker" waves in this context. It's simply a continual powerhouse of surge, current and beauty. These waves are so large they actually break on the reefs far off shore, so the ocean has the appearance of a gigantic washing machine of chaos.

One of my favorite places is Hug Point in all weather. No tourists dragging their coolers and umbrellas at this time of year. It's also high tide, so the dynamics are in full swing.

My main "position" is approaching the beautiful falls of Falls Creek from the highway, descending wet vegetation and mud. This platform before the creek makes it's final leap to the beach is roughly 15 feet high. A great view but can, at times, feel like it is not high enough. Occasionally there are logs perched on the ledge at the top of the falls, and then swept away.

Surging water from the north

The drama of water surging, tossing logs like they are matchsticks, shows the power and beauty of water.

Surging water from the south

Transforming clouds, changing their shapes and patterns.

The sun peaks through the maelstrom

A much higher platform and a grand view of the waves and their power.

Safely above the turmoil

The waves full force

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.

Spring Moments near Quileute, Washington

The headlands are usually the last to relinquish their fog from the warming sun. It's best to try to get out early when the weather is good, as it may be gone in just an hour. I saw that it was already dissipating as I walked to one of my favorite and oft visited areas over many years. It's a place of solitude and beauty.

In spring this area is truly a wild place, where few visitors are seen. The weather is capricious and one has to be careful with the wave and surge action, especially when completely alone.

The sun was blazing but the fog held. Tide was approaching, so I had my back to the waves, which always makes me a little more than nervous. It was amazing. The sun through the trees was splitting the light into many fragments. I took a few photographs of the rays. Then  I moved back (closer to those waves) so a light curtain of beams covered the shore. It was magic and unusual.

Beautiful Light Beams

Another day I was kayaking with a friend on the Quillayute River near La Push on another beautiful sunny day. After taking photographs of at least 20 eagles, we took a break and were presented with these radiating cirrus clouds right over Little James Island. Flowers were blooming. It was Spring in full measure.

Waves forming a V and Radiating Clouds

 Link to more photographs on my website>

Spring in the Columbia Gorge, 2017

Deluge only begins to describe the weather here in the Northwest from October, 2016 to June, 2017. One of the escape areas from the city hum is the Columbia Gorge, and this winter greater escape from rain was often provided by just driving further east to the rain shadow east of Hood River.

 Lovely Oak and pine trees, rolling grasslands and billowing clouds.

Oregon Oak, Columbia Hills State Park, Washington

There was also quite a bit of water there at times as well.

High water through a narrow gorge, Washington

When we had some nice breaks and when it was possible, heading to Hamilton Island for the open and expansive views was a welcome investigation.

Beautiful sun beams on the Oregon side, Columbia Gorge

Checking Photographer's Ephemeris, the moon would be making an appearance over the ridge. Time for the long lens to capture this ridgeline in front of the moon. This is one of those type of images where it is good to go a day or two before the full moon so that there is light on the hills.

 

Moon rising, Columbia Gorge, Oregon

 Images can be seen here>>

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>>