Canada – Riveted

Preparing for Alaska

Laura Domela — Sun, 22 Mar 2015 22:51:49 +0000

Update 5/24/17: We’ve begun offering our own flotillas! The Slowboat 2017 Flotilla to Alaska goes all the way to Sitka and is limited to six boats. The Slowboat 2018 Flotilla to Alaska will go from the San Juan Islands in Washington all the way to Juneau, Alaska. Additionally, we are creating a whole video/webinar series about how to master the Inside Passage on your own! Check them out here!

This is what we’ve been doing for the past three days (and why it’s been so quiet on the blog) — a seminar in preparation for cruising the Inside Passage to Southeast Alaska (and beyond):

We’ll be joining the first flotilla of about 7 boats or so — led by Mark Bunzel of the Waggoner Cruising Guide. Our friend Sam Landsman will be leading the second flotilla, and hopefully we’ll run into him up there sometime as well. The flotilla takes three weeks to travel 760 miles from Anacortes, WA to Ketchikan, AK. After we arrive in Ketchikan, the flotilla will be officially over and Kevin and I (along with others, I’m sure) will continue on up further into Southeast Alaska (after Kevin takes a quick business trip from Ketchikan), making stops at Petersburg, Juneau, Sitka, and many (many!) other cool spots we learned about over the weekend.

This seminar was fantastic — an intense amount of information covering SO much: mechanical issues, weather, tides and currents, navigation, culture, attractions, safety, provisioning, technology and communication, medical emergencies, cooking, photography, fishing, crabbing, and other “what ifs”, delivered by some very knowledgeable people. We are super excited (and somewhat nervous, of course, because everyone is) about setting out on this incredible trip.

From now until mid-May we’ll be planning and researching and provisioning and making sure we have everything we think we might need for three months traveling by boat to Alaska and back. One of our friends asked me recently “How do you pack for a trip like that??” and I told her “I’ll let you know!” (Hi Kathy!)

Yesterday we picked up an extra handheld VHF radio that floats, has a water-activated strobe light, built-in GPS (so it knows your position), and Digital Select Calling (so you can hail another boat directly), as well as PLB (personal locator beacon). We also got ourselves a collapsible crab trap (because…Crab! Alaska!) We have a few more items on our “Get Before Alaska” list (stuff like an outdoor collapsible propane burner and big stock pot (because…Crab! Alaska!), some miscellaneous spare parts, enough oil and supplies for two oil changes, longer chain and rode combination for our anchor/ground tackle because we’ll be anchoring in deeper anchorages….stuff like that.

Anyway, we’ll of course be keeping you posted and blogging about our adventures. We’ve upped our connectivity arsenal and will be reporting on that as well, while trying to run our business from crazy remote locations.

I guess that’s it for now. Here’s what it looks like at Cap Sante this evening:

Yesterday after class finished we headed over to Black Rock Seafood and picked up some fresh halibut and a whole Dungeness crab, and last night we grilled the halibut outside and I served it with a side of asparagus, topped with a crab meat hollandaise. It was SO. GOOD.

Today we got up a little late (too late for real breakfast to be made by me, anyway) so at our lunch break we headed to Dad’s Diner (a Go Go) for some tasty brunch.

We love the decor in this place — lots of great (vintage) globes (and the food is killer).

Kevin’s reflection in the polished wood table:

Tomorrow, our plan is to head over to Sidney, BC to do the whole “customs thing” so we (a) know how to do it, and (2) know that we haven’t forgotten that one crucial document we totally need. I printed out a list of all the meat/produce/alcohol we have on board (along with all our other important info like passport numbers and stuff) so we should be good go to. We’ll explore the Sidney area and nearby islands for a couple days and then brave the “re-entry” into the U.S. via Roche Harbor or Friday Harbor or Anacortes (which we hear are not the most, um, friendly re-entry experiences. We’ll see, and let you know.)

Searching for Shell Beach

Laura Domela — Tue, 22 Jul 2014 12:36:25 +0000

“It’s called… SHELLLL Beach”

My Dad’s eyes tilted slightly higher and his voice took on a reverent, mysterious tone when he said the name of the place. Dad had a way of describing things that made them seem magical. Sometimes, he could impart that mystical quality simply by saying the name – with a certain inflection and a particular combination of body language and tone that made the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. And, you knew that he was telling you about something special, something rare and unique, something that you might remember for the rest of your life.

It was 1969.

I was eight years old and it was the summer after the second grade. We had just celebrated my little brother’s first birthday on the East side of Vancouver Island at a place called Qualicum Beach – a place where the tide seemed to go out for miles, and you could wade almost out of sight from shore while still standing in water that came only to your knees.

Now, we were across on the West side of the island at Tofino – which seemed to me like the boonies of the boonies. Our family was on an extended summer vacation in our slide-in pickup camper. We had left our home in desolate Denver City, Texas about four weeks earlier on what was, to eight-year-old me, the absolute adventure of a lifetime.

Growing up in Denver City, I never saw mountains, or even hills. We had no lakes, streams, or creeks. There were no trees – except a few small cottonwoods planted in people’s yards. At the edge of our tiny town you could see forever – over a barren, wind-blown, treeless, dusty landscape with a vast horizon dotted only by the occasional windmill or pump jack. Summers were blistering hot, winters were freezing cold, and all of the seasons were windy and dusty.

For me, the multi-week camping trip to Canada was an experience on par with a trip to Mars. Everything I had seen on our remarkable journey – mountains, streams, lakes, rivers, trees, beaches, rocky coastlines, geysers, volcanoes, wildlife – was so far outside my young frame of reference that I would have been no more impressed had I been suddenly been dropped onto the surface of some alien planet. We had left the dusty high plains of Texas and traversed the rocky mountains, entered into a foreign country, boarded a ship, and landed on an amazing island. We had traveled for weeks and it seemed to me that we were about as far from home as one could possibly be.

Then, someone told us about “Tofino.”

It was just a word, but to me – something in the way they said it grabbed my attention. My mother asked the locals who were telling us about Tofino if they had ever been there. “No,” they said. “We hear it’s amazing, but we’ve never been over there. It’s a long drive to the far side of the island, and we’re waiting for the road to improve.”

My Dad was most certainly NOT waiting for the road to improve. We filled our fresh water tank, topped up the main and auxiliary tanks with gas (as well as the secret auxiliary-auxiliary 10-gallon tank my Dad had scrounged from a junkyard Corvair) – and headed down the four-hour dirt-and-gravel road across Vancouver Island to Tofino.

That’s how we got to the boonies-of-the-boonies.

Now, here at the edge of the world, someone had told us about a hike to a secret beach – a beach where there was no sand, but only finely-ground seashells – a beach that was accessible only by a long and treacherous hiking path.

“SHELLLL Beach”

This was the boonies-of-the-boonies-of-the-boonies. We had gone off the grid, and then gone some more. And now we were headed off of the off-the-grid grid. My eight-year-old mind struggled to even grasp the concept. We were going to a place farther from Denver City than I had ever imagined possible.

My Dad was an intimidating figure – 5’11” 250 lbs – enormous muscular arms built (he said) from working on the oil pipelines as a teenager. His personality was even larger. He was a high-school band director, and he had the ability to tame over two-hundred teenagers at once with only the sound of his voice. His larger-than-life presence could simultaneously induce fear, admiration, and respect. He could walk into any room and everyone’s attention went to him automatically.

My Dad picked up my newly-one-year-old brother in one giant hand and we set out to find… SHELLL Beach. We were traveling with another family – who had their own camper and kids – and all of us were geared up and ready for the expedition. After a bit of easy hiking down a “normal” beach, we came to a place where there were two options: an overland trail through the woods, and a seaside trail that scaled the rocky cliffs above the breaking waves. Mom (and most of the family we were traveling with) opted for the through-the-woods route. Dad, Chuck (the other dad) and I – all went along the ocean route. Since my little brother was sometimes a handful, Dad decided just to carry him. It was harrowing.

“There were times,” Dad would later say “when I wouldn’t have given you a nickel for the chances of all three of us on those cliffs. I was holding onto the rocks with one hand and holding Craig in the other – and Craig decided that would be a great time to jump up and down and yell “Aahhhh Aahhhh Aahhhh” with a big grin on his face! The path was so narrow that both feet wouldn’t fit side-by-side, I had to keep them single file…”

Dad had a bit of flair for the dramatic in his storytelling.

It was also on this hike to … SHELLLL Beach… that Dad took “The Photograph”.

He was a photography buff. Even with our schoolteacher budget, he had a pro-level SLR, and a set of high-quality lenses. He had practically memorized the past year’s issues of all of the popular photography magazines. He took slides (and slides only – my goodness, print film is for AMATEURS!), and Mom maintained our beautifully-organized collection of Kodak Carousel slide trays that spanned our entire family history. From birthdays to band contests to Christmases to vacations – and around the calendar for another loop, the slides chronicled our family’s life from before I was born until after both my brother and I had left home for good. Many of the photos were amazing. Mom and Dad had both done some spectacular work for amateur photographers.

But here, at …SHELLLL Beach…, Dad captured “The Photograph” – the one that was to be forever etched in family lore as the best photo ever made by any of us. Three-year-old Dianne, the daughter of the family that we were traveling with, was sitting on the jagged rocks by the ocean. Behind her, the fog had created a murky-mysterious gray that melded with the harsh brown texture of the rocks. She was wearing a bright yellow jacket which – with her almost-white hair – made her look absolutely angelic sitting near the edge of the craggy cliff in the golden-hour light.

From that day forward, any time we were having slide-show night at our house, we would all silently wait in anticipation for the time when carousel number 43, slide 15 would drop into the projector to reveal “The Photograph.” Most of us were looking away from the screen, watching the faces of our guests for the predictable “OOOOohhhhhhhhh” reaction that inevitably occurred when the click-clunk-whirrrr of the carousel projector signaled that the cute photo of Craig feeding the chipmunk was about to give way to… aesthetic bliss.

My Dad died in 1993.

Now, 45 years after that hike, Laura and I are camped in Tofino in our Airstream. The road here is still tricky, but nicely paved and well-traveled. Tofino is no longer an outpost inhabited by just a few hearty souls. It is a popular surfing destination, with a number of upscale resorts, tourist attractions, restaurants, and vacation properties. It still manages to retain a great deal of its charm – despite five decades of development.

I wanted to find Shell Beach again. I wanted to hike along the rocky cliffs. I wanted to see the beach made only of shells. I wanted to see the place where “The Photograph” was taken – so indelibly engraved in my memory of nearly five decades.

SHELLLL Beach… isn’t on any of the local tourist maps. It isn’t included on any of the signs for “beach access” for any of the numerous local waysides. I Googled, Mapped, Foursquared, Travelocitized, Yelped… I found only a handful of semi-obscure references to a “Shell Beach” near Tofino. On Foursquare, I was able to see that a few people had actually “checked in” there, and had thoughtfully left a set of GPS coordinates. I moved those into Google Maps, asked for directions, and our quest began.

We parked at a beach access that appeared to be nearest the GPS coordinates. We walked up the beach until the shore would permit passage no more. On the left, there were sheer rocky cliffs interrupted by deep seawater-filled chasms. They were not passable. On the right – there was a beautiful new upscale resort/hotel/restaurant complex. We looked in vain for an offshore route around the hotel that would take us there. We ended up at the boundary of a private residence. We could go no farther.

Next, we drove around to the closest road access on the other side – which, ironically, turned out to be the same beach where we were camped. We walked all the way to the end of the beach, but were turned back when a through-the-woods trail turned out to be blocked by a giant swamp. Finally, we worked our way around the seaside route – scaling the steep rocky cliffs with the tide coming in and huge waves breaking below us.

I imagined my mother – forty-five years ago – taking that first trail and meeting us on the other side, at …SHELLL Beach. As Laura and I climbed over the challenging rocky route above the ocean, I pictured Dad with my baby brother in one hand, gripping the rocks with the other, slowly scaling the path around the point – determined not to let the rocks, the ocean, or the gymnastics of an over-excited one-year-old deter him from his quest.

We may have found Shell Beach today – I can’t be sure. There were no signs or placards. There was a small cove with a beach that appeared to have only ground-up shells instead of sand. In my current life experience – traveling around the world – hiking, biking, camping, flying, and boating just about every kind of terrain imaginable and experiencing the awe-inspiring power of so many remarkable natural places – this place was beautiful, but not particularly amazing. It was just another wild, remote beach, accessed by a medium-difficulty trail. Whatever it was, for me, it was not “…SHELLLL Beach”

On the internet, I saw a reference to a couple getting married recently on Shell Beach. There were a couple of nice photos of the bride and groom kissing near some rocks.

There is magic in the places we visit. But that magic is created by a non-reproducible combination of the time, the place, our life experience, and the people we share it with. When you return, even if the place is the same, the magic may be gone – or it may live only in your memory.

I’m certain my brother doesn’t remember the time when Dad almost dropped him off a cliff into the Pacific Ocean while hiking the West Coast of Vancouver Island. He probably wouldn’t recognize the name “…Shellll Beach.”

But, I do. I remember it – and I went back to that place today. And, I think I could still hear Dad’s laugh somewhere out there in the waves.

(Posted by Kevin)

Newcastle Island, British Columbia

Laura Domela — Fri, 18 Jul 2014 22:36:48 +0000

This afternoon after finishing up most of a work day, we headed by bike back into downtown Nanaimo and took the little ferry over to Newcastle Island. That's Newcastle on the left, and Protection Island on the right.

Newcastle Island is a marine provincial park just across the harbor, and has 22km of hiking and biking trails, a pavillion with a snack bar, and a tent campground. You can bring your camping gear over on the ferry and use one of their wheeled carts to tow it over to the campground. Pretty sweet! Here's the ferry we took on the way over:

The ferry ride costs $9 Canadian per adult round trip, and the bikes are an extra buck.

Here are the bikes bungeed to the upper deck:

The Newcastle Island ferry landing:

Looking back across the harbor to Nanaimo:

From the Newcastle Island website, this'll give you a bit more info about the island:

A significant place utilized by the Snuneymuxw people for thousands of years and traditionally known as Saysutshun, Newcastle Island is a wondrous escape from the bustling urban center of Nanaimo just across the harbour. Alongside the strong First Nations presence and culture on the island, it is also home to many rich histories which include coal mining, a sandstone quarry, and herring salteries, all of which make Newcastle Island a must-see eco-tourism destination for those visiting Nanaimo.

There was a sailboat regatta happening out past the island:

The bike path is much more of a mountain bike style path than a road bike style path, but our bikes handled it just fine:

This is Mallard Lake, in the middle of the island:

Bike Fridays are such great travel bikes!!

Back to the ferry landing:

This is the cute little tiny ferry we took back across the harbor, with 5 bikes and 12 passengers!!

And here are some of the bikes strapped onto the port side and stern, for scale:

Here's a map of our route from the campground and back:

We're doing laundry now and grilling some tuna for fish tacos. I think we're going to do a little day trip up to Courtenay tomorrow. There's an annual (annual! not weekly!) (the 44th annual) Saturday market going on that sounds interesting. Then on Sunday we'll head over to Tofino! We're having a blast up here.

We’re Home

Laura Domela — Mon, 16 Sep 2013 03:27:35 +0000

I know. Bor. Ing. Except this time it's NOT boring, it's awesome. I'll share some stuff (and some photos I forgot to post from our trip) soon.

In the meantime, look at this cool photo Kyle took of us all, dining at the Athabasca glacier where we were camped for the night!

Hiking Maligne Canyon

Laura Domela — Thu, 05 Sep 2013 20:12:00 +0000

This morning Kevin and I headed over to do the Maligne Canyon hike (pronounced mah-leen). We started down at the trailhead at the Sixth Bridge and hiked up to the main trailhead (about 4.5 miles round trip).

Somewhere around the Fifth Bridge the canyon starts to get all canyoney and the trail is rocky and sometimes a little steep. Gorgeous hike.

It's tough to get a photograph of the depth of the canyon that conveys how it feels to stand on one of the six bridges over it. It's super deep (160 feet at some places) and it's bright outside and dark in the canyon. Even HDR is tough. You'll just have to go there.

Canyon shadow self portrait:

We took a slightly different path back to the Sixth Bridge trailhead. Nice view:

Tree bark art:

Tonight is our last night in Jasper. I think we're all going out to dinner in town, and Kevin and I are trying to figure out which path we'll take back to Portland tomorrow (we've got a week). I think we may follow Kyle South and take a quick tour through Glacier National Park before heading home.

Marion Lake, Glacier, BC

Laura Domela — Thu, 29 Aug 2013 13:13:01 +0000

One more shot from near Marion Lake on our steep steep hike yesterday:

And today: heading to Banff!

Glacier: Hike to Marion Lake

Laura Domela — Wed, 28 Aug 2013 18:43:21 +0000

The rain seems to have stopped for the moment (maybe even for the whole day, according to the reports) so we left our campsite this morning and headed over to meet up with Tiffani and Deke for a nice hike.

We started the trail from the trailhead here at the Illecillewaet Campground) and hiked up to Marion Lake. It's, well, uphill all the way…some pretty steep uphill (just rated "moderate" as hikes go, however).

Pretty amazing to look down (part way to the lake) and see the road you just came from:

The lake at the top and the views were spectacular and totally worth the climb.

(That's 5,700 feet!)

On our way back down we met a German couple with great skin and cute striped shirts (probably in their 50s) on their way up. We told them about how much further it was to the lake and that it was beautiful and well worth the climb, and their first question was whether we'd seen any bears? We said, "Nope, no bears" and they were quite disappointed…said they really wanted to see a bear. It's funny…we really DIDN'T want to see a bear, which is why we were nice and loud the whole way. I've heard far too many stories of people I know or their friends coming WAY too close to bears (the kind of close that requires hospital stays and multiple surgeries) to want to see one while I'm out hiking, totally vulnerable, wandering around the bear's home.

I heard there was a grizzly preserve somewhere not that far up the road though. I think they'd be better to go see the bears there.

Airstreams on the Road: Kelowna to Glacier

Laura Domela — Wed, 28 Aug 2013 00:15:11 +0000

Well it seems to be a trend. We all decide to leave by 10am, and by 10am everyone is all hitched and ready. It's great to travel with a group of seasoned travelers. Here we are on the road headed to Glacier National Park:

At some point there was another random BC Airstream that joined our caravan, but eventually they peeled off and went their own way. It's this guy, on the left. For about a half hour we were a caravan of 9:

Tiffani and Deke (Weaselmouth) on the road:

We got to our campground (the Illecillewaet Campground) around 2:30pm or so. This is our spot for the next two nights:

After everyone arrived and got settled, we set out for a short hike. Everyone joined, including all the kids, and we'd planned to just do a 1.3 km loop (the Meeting of the Waters Trail), but once we were at the spot that turned back we all opted to go on a bit. So gorgeous:

This is a posted warning that there have been bears in this area. Four people in the group had bear spray, and we were hiking with some loud kids, so we felt pretty good.

The further we went, the more incredible the views, though I'm not sure what trail we were actually on. I'll have to find out. But look:

Eventually the trail opened up onto some large open rocky slopes, but not before warning us once more that this was an area preferred by bears:

Josh and Jack Works:

I think at that last bear warning half the group turned and headed back (coincidence?), and the rest of us went on ahead (8 adults with four kids, three bottles of bear spray). The kids were such troopers!! (Well, as were the adults who carried the kids!)

Jessa Works, and the Mali Mish clan:

We got a little further than this and decided it was late in the day and we turned back. This giant waterfall coming down the side of this mountain looks way smaller in this picture than it is in real life.

Now we're back at camp with a little bit of internet (data card, data we added to our plan before we left home), and it's time for some dinner. Tomorrow: more hiking!

Our Awesome Group of Airstream Friends

Laura Domela — Mon, 26 Aug 2013 12:58:40 +0000

I know, this has been all over facebook already, but I'm still going to post it here. John of The Democratic Travelers, took this fabulous group photo of us the night before we left Leigh & Brian's at Aluminogan. I love it.

L to R: The Works (Josh, Jack, Jessa), The Watsons (Amanda and Tim), Mali Mish (Luca, Ava, Mila, Marlene, Dan), The Democratic Travelers (John and Laura), Weaselmouth (Tiffani and Deke), Aluminarium (Leigh and Brian), Riveted (us), Advodna (Dave and Ann — Wynne was napping and they voted it was not worth waking her for this photo. Gotta trust the parents there.)

Yesterday we just got settled here at our new spot and explored the beach a little. We all made whatever for dinner and gathered at our long long picnic table for more fun conversation and food. After dinner was just chill. Some wine, some beer, and then the Works brought out this crazy bottle of "Iceland's signature distilled beverage" that they brought back from their trip to Iceland, called Brennevin.

Today is Brian's birthday and part of the group will go help him celebrate with some lunch and some wine tasting, and then I think tonight will be just a repeat of last night (perhaps without the Icelandic liquor) before we head to Glacier tomorrow.