The Gulf Islands archipelago with more than 200 islands and rocky promontories, gentle waters and abundant marine life is a kayaker’s paradise. One circuit, in particular, stands out: a circumnavigation of South Pender Island. I never tire of the beautiful vistas, the closeness of sea and the serenity, an almost Zen-like feeling, of gently bobbing on the waves. It’s the perfect one-day outing (from four to six hours).
Today, I’m starting from Medicine Beach and going around clockwise. A few minutes of gentle stroking and I pass under the looming trestles of the bridge connecting the two Penders. Long snaking bull kelp are like weather vanes, showing the direction of the current. I stick to the left side where dozens of purple and occasional orange sea stars cling to the rocks. A pretty white beach is evidence of a former Native camping site. Archaeologists studied this midden and showed that it dates back 8,000 years.
I pass Mortimer Spit — another good launching spot — and head southeast passing some glorious waterfront properties. Frequently a seal head rises from the water and watches my progress with big, friendly, curious eyes. Mount Baker, with its snowy ramparts, rises on the horizon and looks down on passing freighters like a Buddha.
Blunden Islet at the southern tip of South Pender is a protected (no going ashore) part of the Gulf Islands National Park. It harbours seals, birds and in places I have to fight to get through thick, glistening, entangled bull kelp. I circle the islet, admiring the contorted rock layers, evidence of immense tectonic forces that formed this chain of islands.
Leaving Blunden Islet, the water opens up into Haro Strait. Now there is a mood change, a feeling of vast watery distances, exposure and being alone in somebody else’s world. Then Gowlland Point arrives, with the light beacon mounted on black, pockmarked conglomerate rocks. I go ashore at Brooks Point and wander the beach and enjoy lunch among the enormous driftwood logs marking the high-tide mark.
Fortified, I head out and start curving around Tilley Point. The tidal currents swirl and eddy, signs of the invisible forces of the sun, moon and earth’s rotation. Soon I’m through the turbulence and into calmer waters.
A pleasant tiredness has set in as stroke follows stroke. I pass attractive waterfront homes and dark green forests of Douglas fir punctuated by gangling arbutus and delicate Garry oaks. Seabirds flitter. Occasionally, a fish jumps or a seal head pops up.
I stop at a beacon next to a small pretty shell beach and stretch the legs. Then it’s only a few strokes to the bustle of Poets Cove Resort. I stop for an ale on the terrace and admire the huge yachts.
With fatigue setting in I cruise past Beaumont Marine Park and its perfect crescent of a beach. The sun beats down, reflects from the rocky shore and shimmers on the water. I am enveloped in liquid golden warmth as I paddle the last stretch back to Medicine Beach.
