Paddlers: Suzanne May, Joan Smith, Elizabeth and Tony Laidler, Roger Lanyon, Willie MacDonald, Alex Turner

The Queen Charlotte Islands (Haida Gwaii in the native Haida tongue) are situated 100km from the mainland of northern British Columbia. In appearance and position they could be considered equivalent to the Western Isles that lie off the north-west coast of Scotland. The plan was to paddle for two weeks in the bottom half of the archipelago in the Gwaii Haanas National Park and Haida Heritage Reserve. This is a wilderness area designated in 1987, inhabited by only a handful of people and has no access other than by boat or plane.

Airtransat flight from Glasgow – Vancouver via Calgary. Entry to the country was notable for the confiscation from Joan of two tins of Marks &Spencer’s Chicken Korma on the grounds that it represented an unacceptable risk of foot and mouth disease to Canadian farm animals.

Overnight at the Express Holiday Inn and an early start at the Lansdowne Mall branch of Safeway. Most of the food for the 14 day trip was bought and securely boxed (Willie showing packing skills acquired from a previous career in retailing) for the next leg of the journey

After some of us had discovered how big Canadian portions can be at one of the airport bars (one serving of nacho’s could have fed three), we flew to Moresby Island and landed at Sandspit airport, arriving in breezy but sunny weather.

We were collected from the airport by our B&B hostesses, as the islands only taxi was elsewhere. The surroundings looked remarkably Scottish: distant hills (albeit tree covered), grassy fields and long beaches. Our accommodation overlooked the sea and the roadside trees were crowded with Bald Eagles.

After breakfast, the rations were de-packaged as far as possible and loose goods like pasta and rice sealed into zip-lock bags. Even so, it looked an awful lot of food.

At 11.00, we trooped down to the airport to receive our ‘mandatory orientation course’ from a member of Parks Canada staff. The session told us something about the Gwaii Haanas reserve where we were about to paddle. We got a list of do’s and don’ts, because they take the preservation of the environment and Haida first-nation sites very seriously. Safety was stressed because looking for lost paddlers is very inconvenient for all concerned. The need to preserve the wilderness experience was a key message – which meant leaving absolutely no trace wherever we went. Pack it in – pack it out! We were issued with a handbook that gave further information on Gwaii Haanas. These had blank pages at the end for stamping when we visited Haida cultural places – Watchmen sites. Named after the watchmen who were village look-outs, the name has been adopted for the programme of hosting visits to these sites.

Collecting these stamps was soon to become an important ritual for us.

So far the trip had gone smoothly but this state of affairs ended in the afternoon. We discovered that no gas cylinders were available for our burners. Two or three stoves were needed and quickly or we faced the prospect of cooking on campfires in a climate wetter than the West Highlands.

Under the misapprehension that no burners could be had in Sandspit, Alex and Tony hared off in a borrowed pickup, crossed via ferry to Graham Island and visited the hardware shop to buy a new burner and a stack of cylinders to fit. Meanwhile, the rest of the party moseyed down to the Sandspit hardware store and bought

a burner and a very long length of rope, which was cut into multiple sections for, bag slinging, of which more later. We called in on Moresby Explorers, who kindly lent us a petrol stove (soon to be christened ‘the flame thrower’) and two tarpaulins (‘tarps), apparently indispensable American camping items.

Up and away from B&B’s. by 7.30, bound for Moresby Camp, an hour’s journey away on tarmac and logging roads. Listening to the weather forecast in the minibus was not encouraging – rain and gales to come. Wearing comically long oilskin coats, we loaded bags onto the RIB and then saw our first black bear on the other side of the inlet. Pottering about on the shore, it was much less excited about the encounter than us.

Setting off, with the boats lashed to a sort of RIB roofrack, the need for the oilies was soon apparent. At 35mph, the journey was on the chilly side and potentially very wetting. Sitting in front of twin 155 horse outboards also made conversation with fellow passengers something of a trial. On the south side of the Tangil peninsula, we spotted killer whales close to the shore. The boat was turned and motored slowly up

to them. We got to within about 100m; three females and a calf. After a couple of minutes they dived and didn’t re-surface until some distance away. Not long after, we docked at Float camp in Crescent Inlet and took Tony and Elizabeth’s double kayak aboard (22’ Necky Nootka +).

The rest of journey to Raspberry Cove was uneventful, weather sunny and small waves, so we kept dry. Once landed, myriad bags of gear were shoehorned into boats and farewell was bade to two fellow passengers. At last we were here – now what?

Staying put was democratically rejected, so we set off for Hornby Point on Kunghit Island A beach was found for landing and tents were put up on the forest edge. The forest floor was quite unlike any at home – a twilight gloaming covered in fallen trunks and branches of giant trees with everything blanketed in soft green moss. After our evening meal, we had a first lesson in bag hauling from past masters Alex and Suzanne. Because bears are attracted to the smell of food, all rations, the clothes we cooked in and even our toiletries had to be bagged and tied to ropes slung over tree branches several meters above our heads. Hauling the heavy bags at the beginning of the trip was no joke but it got easier as we ate the rations down

A still, cloudy morning to start with. By the time we got on the water at 11.45 (!) the tree tops were moving about and when we got round Hornby Point we could see why. Heading down Houston Stewart channel into the teeth of a force four wind and adverse tide made us decide to turn round after a couple of km. and paddle to Rose Harbour for lunch. A couple of large rusting metal vessels on the shore were digesters from an abandoned whaling station which operated in the first half of the last century. Heading over to the Moresby Island side, we skirted Ross Island and paddled up Rose Inlet for a while until we decided to return to Ross Island and wait out the weather. Landing on a shingle beach, we put up tents and found a good spot for the tarp. Weather was by now wet and windy, distinctly cool and with a gale warning for the following day. Harlequin ducks on adjacent rocks brightened the day for the birdwatchers.

After a very wet and windy night, we had a communal breakfast and listened to the forecast on the radio. The current bad weather was to continue for another day, so sitting it out was the only option. The tarp was a real boon – we could sit under it in a degree of comfort, brew endless cups of tea and watch the world go by. Which in this case was dominated by an abundance of wildlife. A racoon was spotted on the beach and more new birds spotted from our ‘hide’ – Hermit and Variegated Thrushes and Townsends Warbler. A female Sitka deer and well-grown young one could be

approached to within three meters, completely unconcerned by our presence. At 11.50 the pressure was steady at 1011millibars and air temp was 13^o How like a Scottish summer! In the evening, a party of seven river otters were hunting in the channel between the island and Moresby Island. Twice, a Bald Eagle dived to attack one of them – difficult to say whether it was trying to grasp a fish that the otter had caught or the otter itself.

All up at 0630 and on the water by 0915. A pod of Dall’s porpoises in the Channel and as the end of our island was rounded, there was a bear on the edge of the forest. We had been unaware of its presence but it would certainly have known about us. Probably hadn’t enjoyed sharing its home with a bunch of kayakers.

Tide was slack and we made good progress to Cape Fanny, where we met the Pacific.

The sea was calm with a glassy swell and course was set for the north end of Anthony Island (Sgung Gwaii) with wildlife all the way - a Minke whale and large numbers of Tufted Puffins and Ancient Murrelets whirring past. We made landfall at 11.15, having radioed the Watchmen for guidance as to where to land. On the beach, another group of (guided) kayakers was just about to leave. Someone who didn’t look like a paddler turned out to be Michael, our Watchmen guide, who congratulated us on arriving on such a fine day. The sun had finally come out.

The village of Ninstints on Sgung Gwaii was formerly the home of several hundred Haida people. It was occupied for several thousand years by a vigorous and culturally rich society. Living as hunter-gatherers, they were decimated by contact with whitemen’s diseases in the nineteenth century. Now all that remains is an abandoned village site and some totem poles that although past their prime are nevertheless considered to be the finest original standing poles in North America. This has been recognised by designation of Sgung Gwaii as a UN World Heritage site.

Walking through the forest to the village, Michael explained the medicinal and food uses that the Haida had made of some of the plants. As we emerged from the trees, we saw a row of totem poles looking out over a sheltered beach. On them were carved

creatures mythical and real – wolf, bear, and killer whale amongst them. Finishing our tour at the Watchmen’ cabin, we drank Earl Grey tea and studied books that illustrated how the village would have looked before the disastrous contact with foreigners. A bucket outside the cabin showed that hunter-gathering was still part of Haida life. It contained an octopus and several sea cucumbers – soon to be the Watchmen’s evening meal.

We made use of the solar composting toilet, said to have cost $30,000. Some of our party thought that for that kind of money it should have smelt a bit fresher – apparently the exhaust fan was out of action.

We left Sgung Gwaii still in sunshine and paddled to the Gordon Islands where there was said to be a good site for camping. We looked on the exposed side of the main island but couldn’t find anything suitable and then made our way to the lee side where we landed on grey sand. Not much here but it was getting late and we had to settle for pitches at the top of the beach on suspiciously damp sand. A very light shower of rain was followed by a serious sense of humour failure on Tony’s part as he had vainly hoped for a chance to air his damp down-filled sleeping bag. The tide came up during the night and a boat had to be moved to prevent its unwanted departure.

Overcast but dry start to the day, with us on the water by 0930 to catch the northward flowing tide. The passage through Houston Stewart was made without difficulty – a good tide was running in the centre of the channel. Stopping to collect water at Raspberry Cove, we paddled on past Langford and Benjamin Points: no sign here of any adverse tidal conditions but the tide was still with us and wind light. Just beyond Benjamin Point a large male sealion surfaced close to some of the boats. We lunched nearby and then paddled on for Carpenter Bay with the weather looking increasingly threatening. Approaching Koya Bay where we had chosen to camp, drizzle turned to rain and another evening was spent under the tarp watching the rain. Run-off from the tarp meant that at least there was no shortage of drinking water. Clouds do have silver linings. Freshwater in the Gwaii Haanas has to be boiled or filtered to avoid catching nasty stomach bugs, so collecting rainwater is a bonus.

Morning dawned a lot brighter than the day before and after a long baggage carry down the beach and boats floated down the creek to its mouth the day’s journey was started in optimistic mood. In sunshine, Rankine Island and Goodwin Point were passed and Roger caught a perch-like fish while trolling. We paddled up Ikeda Cove for lunch, during which we were visited by a Moresby Explorers RIB taking paddlers south and our conversation finished with the guide pointing out a bear on the opposite shore. Towards the end of the afternoon we arrived at Harriet Harbour, some spoilheaps here an indication of mining activity a century ago. Not an inspiring place to camp and we pressed on for Jedway, where a site was found on the east side of the bay in delightful late afternoon sunshine.

Close by was a grave surrounded by a low wooden fence. Taniyo Isozaki must have been linked with the Japanese abalone cannery, which used to operate in Jedway Bay, but we knew nothing else about her. The grave had been recently tended, so she was not forgotten in her lonely burial place in the quiet forest.

Away by 0905 to catch low tide at Burnaby Narrows. Approaching the Narrows, we found a bear turning rocks over on the shore. Unconcerned at our approach, it allowed boats to within about 20m.

Burnaby Narrows is said to have the richest intertidal life in North America. We drifted through at low tide and saw kelp and seabed covered in an abundance of diverse life including bat stars, sunstars, shellfish, crabs and the egg cases of

moon snails. We met a couple of American paddlers and while Roger discussed the finer points of Greenland paddles with one of them, the rest of us were treated to the other’s personal philosophy. After listening to this monologue some of us concluded that he seemed to be on a different kind of ‘trip’ to the one that we were on. We also met a Canadian couple who were camped on the southern tip of Wanderer Island and we ended the day camped near them after a vigorous paddle into a stiffening northwest breeze.

A sunny morning saw us headed up the coast for Werner Point. From there it was over the Juan Perez Strait and arrival at Hotspring Island in unaccustomed but welcome heat. The boats were moored and lunch taken on the beach. Tony and Alex watched an octopus in the shallows which looked at least 5’ across the tentacles – an impressive beast.

The name of the island derives from naturally occurring hot springs. These seep out of rock fissures and form a number of small pools.

After the delight of the obligatory shower, we soaked ourselves in the hot pools. Sheer bliss! We left at 1800 and headed for the southern end of Murchison Island, camping in a bay on the north side. A large sailing cruiser (Ocean Light 2) was anchored nearby.

After an overcast and misty start we had an enjoyable run in a flat calm up the chain of offshore islands – Agglomerate Island and the Tar Islands. At the last of these, we radioed the Watchmen site at Windy Bay and landed in the early afternoon. Salmon were jumping off the mouth of the creek – said to be the best salmon run in the Charlottes. We landed under the gaze of an imposing, silver haired figure. Paul Pearson was a 64-year-old Haida elder and resident Watchman with his wife Becky. He encouraged us to stay overnight with good humoured warnings of dire weather ahead and we accepted when the weather did actually turn wet. A modern Haida longhouse stood on the edge of the

forest – the Blinking Eye house. Built to house the anti-logging Haida during the mid-eighties, it had a big woodburning stove and we soon had our gear hung out to dry inside. Roger and Willie went off in their boats to wet a line and returned with several of the perch-like fish and a couple resembling red snapper. Eaten later after Willie had given them the cordon bleu treatment they were an enjoyable fresh addition to our diet. In the evening Paul took us along the forest trail which winds around the creek. One of the Sitka spruce had a circumference of 42ft. around the bole – truly enormous and estimated at 1200-1500 years old. We were shown cedars where Haida people had removed bark to use in the weaving of baskets, hats and similar articles. Afterwards, Paul entertained us with stories of the Haida and his own life, including a hair-raising account of his near-fatal encounter with poisonous shellfish. They can be contaminated with toxins from ‘red tide’ plankton blooms and the authorities ban harvesting. The one time logger and fisherman was now retired in Skidegate and looked on his Watchman summer job as a holiday.

We bade farewell to our hosts Paul and Becky and departed our memorable camp under a patchy blue sky. The paddling was easy and we arrived at Tanu at 1345 with the weather warm and sea calm. As at Windy Bay, the passengers and crew of Ocean Light 2 were here getting the tour, so we had a relaxing lunch at the top of the beach. During this, a small voice in the undergrowth behind turned out to be Breann (‘Breezy’), Paul and Becky’s granddaughter. A self-confident and entertaining seven-year old, she later gave us the village tour. Not quite the one her mother (one of the ‘real’ Watchman) would have given but entertainingly embellished in places. One house pit ‘where children’s toys were made’ seemed a tad unlikely!

Leaving Tanu, we made for a possible campsite on the tip of the Tangil Peninsula. Finding two other paddlers in residence, we crossed to Talunkwan Island. Nothing here but steep hillsides going straight down to uninviting beaches; we retreated and returned to Tangil, where there was just enough room for the two other paddlers and ourselves.

Arrived at Vertical Point by lunchtime, where we lunched and then decided to stay as the weather was turning drizzly. Alex and Suzanne went off for an exploratory paddle; the rest chilled out, slept or constructed a fire. Being out of the Gwaii Haanas park, there was evidence here of human activity – an old cabin, ‘furniture’ around a campfire area and a rough and ready hammock slung from a branch.

After a cool and breezy start to the day, our approach to the Skedans Islands was in warm sunshine. Reputed to be the home of sealions, we paddled out and discovered

several small colonies of Harbour seals but no sealions. One seal lay dead on rocks beside the water, with two large gashes in its side: killer whales seemed the likely cause. Some of the party enjoyed the steep waves as we rounded the end of the islands and headed for Skedans village site on Louise Island. Arriving in delighful sunshine, a leisurely lunch was taken while yet another party from Ocean Light 2 did the tour. On their departure, the skipper (a truly blessed man) took pity on us and brought back to us several tins of amber nectar from his boat. The abandoned site had several totem poles still standing in reasonable condition and we could identify some of them in the book that Watchman Joan lent us for the tour. A photograph taken more than a century ago showed many poles standing in front of a row of wooden houses.

We took up Joan’s offer to camp on the other side of the point. Her young son Douglas arrived with a wheelbarrow – a very useful item for moving gear up to the camp sites. Putting up their tent at the top of the beach, Tony and Elizabeth were treated to the unforgettable sight of a killer whale surfacing 50m from the edge of the water. Several of us ran down the beach to get another view, but it next came up half a kilometre away, with two others. Shortly after, two others were seen coming from the south and heading to join them. All were heading out for islands – presumably to look for a seal supper. The other Watchman, Upsy, worked in salmon hatcheries on the islands during the winter. Run by Haida, the aim is stock enhancement, primarily for commercial netting but also for angling.

Pretty slick at the getaway by now, we were up at 0630 and on the water by 0759 precisely. Some small surf had to be negotiated – unfortunately not successfully by everyone and at least one paddler had to pump water from a flooded cockpit.

We were aiming to catch the remaining tide flowing up Cumshewa Inlet. This proved not to be very strong but at least we were heading in the right direction. First landfall was at 11.15 on the beach below Kitson Point, the plan being to await the tide flowing again later in the afternoon. In hazy sunshine we spent a lazy afternoon making pancakes (some more successfully than others), sleeping and listening to readings by Suzanne from a book of Haida stories. The one about the girl and the woodworm was particularly memorable for its bizarre improbability. A pair of otters hunting nearby added to the delights of the afternoon. When the tide turned we took to the water and headed for Dawsons Cove on the north side of the Inlet. A drizzle as we arrived turned into steady rain and we spent our final evening sheltering under the tarp.

A dry but overcast day greeted us for the last leg of the paddle. A logging camp on the other side of the inlet was belching smoke and a helicopter came into land. We were nearly back to the world that we had left a fortnight before. Near journey’s end, some of us called in at the abandoned Aero logging camp. The quiet forest was gradually consuming the rusting remains of heavy plant and a railway line. A slight but distinct smell of oil lent a nostalgic air to a place that would have rung with sound a few decades before.

Soon afterwards we finished the paddle at Moresby Camp, from where we had started. In warm sunshine, boats were unpacked for the last time and the final group photo’s taken of a seven tanned people leaner and fitter than most had been for a very long time. We had paddled on 13 out of 14 days and covered a distance of 144 miles (230.5km ).

This trip took six months of planning and organising. It would not have happened without the hard work, inspiration and knowledge of Alex Turner and Suzanne May. The rest of us owe them a debt of thanks.

TL October 13 2001

And finally - a modern pole at Skidegate museum