Musings on the Inside Passage

BY CHRIS WHITTAKER

Bio

Chris is an Expedition Leader, Writer & Photographer. His work and adventure tours can be found on IG @global_shenanigans / www.global-shenanigans.com. Find out more about the For Fun’s Sake Expedition of the Inside Passage on Facebook and Instagram @ffs_expedition, as well as tuning into their upcoming Youtube series this winter. www.ffs-expedition.com

Musings on the Inside Passage

Thoughts and ideas are overflowing out of my brain. Probably due to the high dosage of fresh, salty sea air mixed with the perfect sweet spot of difficulty. My cruising speed is set somewhere between mindful meditation and flow state. I’m reading the water on auto-pilot, watching for boils, bubbles and breaks in eddy lines as I move from one current to the next.

A slightly sweeped stroke on the left to pull my tail round and point the bow out of the collision zone of a drifting log, followed by a lazy hanging draw, bringing the rest of my boat away from impact. All the while, my eyes are flickering from the water to the beaches – are those bear-shaped rocks or rock-shaped bears? Then back to the water. The gentle rolling smoothness of the sea is disturbed. I can’t see below the surface on this overcast day, but I know there must be a rock there. I move out deeper. As I do, I notice a hazy mist on the horizon. Something that should not be there.

My focus shifts. By allowing my eyes to sharpen where the sea meets the sky, I’ll be able to see if anything changes – much like comparing a ‘spot the difference’ photo. There it is again. A spray shoots into the air, and a patch of sunlight breaking through the clouds glistens within it. ‘Whale two o’clock!’ I shout, alerting Nuka, my friend, expedition partner and cohort in this adventure. Every sighting gets called out, and every whale gets watched. There is not a chance I am letting one go by without acknowledgement. It’s the least I can do to pay respect to these magnificent creatures.
I am totally in tune with the world’s natural order at this halfway stage. The days start and end with the rise and fall of the sun.

Waking up early allows us to take advantage of the calmer morning winds. We have time to progress and reach our next camp with more daylight. As the sun drops, ever so slowly, we pack up our belongings and retreat to bed. But the sun’s effect on our day-to-day goes beyond the provision of light.

The sun and the moon decide the time of high and low tide and how high and low they shall be. High tide is the best time to make and break camp, as this saves carrying all of our worldly possessions any further than we have to over the treacherously slippery exposed low tide rocks. Of course, this is not always possible, but certainly a factor for consideration. The greater the height difference between high and low water, the faster it will flow.

The sun and the moon

Certain sections, hazards and danger zones require a slack tide passing, as an opposing current is too strong to make ground against. So with that, our entire day is based on the position of the sun and the moon in the sky. To then think that at this very moment, on this very day, the Universe conspires to place us exactly here at the same time a 50ft humpback whale surfaces to take a breath – you better believe I’m screaming ‘WHALE!’ at the top of my lungs each and every time.

Some days are over by lunchtime. The currents switch on us, and there’s no getting passed them. Other times we slog it out until 21:00, even 22:00 if we’re really pushed. A 10-12 hour shift is never the first choice, but sometimes there is no choice. It’s reassuring to know we have that up our sleeve – the ability to grind on until the work is done.  

We experience everything

We are not observers or passengers. In this expedition, we are a part of nature. The bald eagles look down on us as they do a passing deer – neither threat nor friend. Just another creature in existence. It is humbling to be at the mercy of Mother Nature. Day in, day out, we are tried and tested. When you feel like you are on a roll, when the conditions are playing in your favour, the wind on your back and the seas following, those are the times to be most aware. If you get too comfortable – be it even for a second – she comes for you. A broadside wave without warning, risking capsize in the most precarious places.

A higher tide than expected, sweeping through camp overnight whilst you’re blissfully asleep and unaware – the only evidence being the seaweed line along your kayaks that you thankfully remembered to hitch onto a tree. A far too close whale encounter, a curious bear looking for an easy meal or any other of Mother Nature’s message carriers. Always ready to knock you back a few pegs if you think it’s getting easy for a second.

When you put yourself against nature, there is no winning. There is surviving. And if you are fortunate and on form, you can even thrive. For the vast majority of this trip, we are truly thriving – in our element amongst the elements. Nuka and I both working together in perfect synchronicity. We know our roles, what we each do best and how our differing skills can be complementary.

an excellent camp

All key decisions are discussed, and ideas are presented to one another for approval. We must both be on board with our team choices at all times. Some decisions did not even need discussing. Such as when we arrived upon what can only be described as an excellent camp. A half-moon sandy beach, sheltered from swells from both sides with a steep enough bank to avoid a long low-tide carry out in the morning. Nuka was ahead of me.

It had been a gruelling day, and this excellent camp was the light at the end of the tunnel. I saw Nuka look down at his watch, and I looked down at mine. 15:45. It’s too early. No words were said; Nuka didn’t even turn around. We both knew that we would be carrying on. It has been a struggle of a day, but still, more is left in the tank. And on we go, accepting the job that has to be done, the ground that has to be covered and that we can rely upon one another to keep pushing.

And in these moments and many others throughout the trip, I knew I was exactly where I needed to be.