Earlier in July, I joined a handful of good friends on a 2-night sea kayaking trip in the San Juan Islands. People who know me well already know that I am not a particularly strong (or experienced) kayaker, and I think most of the boys in the group would say that kayaking is not their strongest discipline. But perhaps that was the point of the trip - it was an ostensibly my bachelor party, and it’s no fun doing a bachelor party where everyone is already good at the planned activity! So Friday morning, the seven of us set out from Seattle. With fairly strong winds ,we were a bunch of buoyant boys ready to get blown and broadsided.
Adam kindly volunteered to devise an itinerary that felt ambitious for us landlubbers, but seemed unlikely to lead to us requiring a rescue from the Coast Guard. We started our paddle in Anacortes, saving us the need to take a ferry, and on day 1 we planned on paddling north up Bellingham Channel to the east side of Cypress Island to our first camp, before circumnavigating the island counterclockwise and camping on James Island for night 2 before heading back to Anacortes. Geographic pedants will note that technically almost the entire proposed trip is on the east side of Rosario Strait, making it technically not in the San Juan Islands. This is true, but we ended up briefly setting foot on Blakely Island not once but twice, in addition to camping on James, so I’ll happily say that our trip was “in” the San Juans, not just “next to” them, which frankly sounds way cooler.
After causing a ruckus in WinCo getting groceries for the trip, we set off from Cabana Park, loaded with 5 pounds of carrots, 5 pounds of candy Lego blocks, and some Mac and Cheese powder (it’s amazing what you can get in bulk at WinCo!). Our first leg took us west through Burrows Pass, then we wrapped around Fidalgo Head, before dodging ferry traffic in front of the terminal as we crossed Guemes Channel and pushed into Bellingham Channel with the wind at our backs. Even with a tailwind, the swells approaching Cypress Island reminded me how little I am in my little kayak, and how powerful the ocean can be. I was happy to pull onto the beach on the leeward side of Cypress Head for a little break.
Adam, Alex, and Matt working their way through our substantial supply of carrots.
It was really quite windy at Cypress Head, and after a little bit of exploring and stretching our legs, we piled back in the boats. Pieter, the sole true sailor among us, had paired up with Matt, the true engineer among us, in their double kayak, and before we knew it, they had rigged up sails using their paddles and two plastic garbage bags. In retrospect, it was a mistake to let those two get in a boat together, but before we knew it, they had pulled far ahead of the rest of the group as we continued north along the east side of Cypress. Eventually, though, we managed to catch them, and we found a nice secluded campsite just north of Cypress Beach.
Pieter expertly trimming the jury-rigged mainsail (or is it a spinnaker?) as he and Matt pull ahead of the rest of the group.
With camp set up and a few more hours of daylight, a bunch of us set off to climb up to the summit of Eagle Cliff, a nice little viewpoint 750 vertical feet above the ocean. In classic fashion, Matt led us on a nice bushwhack past the northern tip of the island, then we climbed steeply through the mossy woods to hit the main trail near the summit. We enjoyed great views out over Rosario Strait in the evening light, before heading back down to Cypress Beach. The few hundred yards of bushwhacking parallel to the beach were surprisingly ‘schwacky, but we made it back to camp just enough light for Matt to take a quick dip.
Selfie just below the summit of Eagle Cliff.
Matt doing his best Loch Ness monster impression at dusk.
Looking north from Cypress Island at sunset. Tiny Towhead island in the middle of the picture.
The next morning, we realized that catastrophe had struck: our stash of candy Lego blocks had gotten splashed with some seawater, and were starting to lose structural integrity. We had to eat them as quickly as possible, before they were completely reduced to mush. Feeling slightly ill (and slightly nervous about the currents crossing Rosario Strait), we set off, paddling counterclockwise around Cypress Island.
Lovely paddling on the NW side of Cypress Island.
Adam paddling below Eagle Cliff.
As we neared the aptly-named Tide Point, our second catastrophe struck: the rudder on Matt and Pieter’s boat failed, a clear case of karmic playfield leveling after their overpowered performance the previous day. They pulled ashore to make some hasty repairs, where they were surprised to be greeted by of the island’s most asinine residents, who kindly offered to help.
Four asses documenting their rudder repair handiwork.
The resulting selfie (thanks Matt for the pic!)
After the friendly island residents were generously compensated for their hard work (5 lbs of carrots, remember?) we headed out into the ripping 3 knot current in Rosario Strait as we pushed over to Blakely Island and the San Juans proper. Once again, Matt and Pieter blasted ahead, we we all regrouped in a cove on the shore of Blakely to take a quick break. After eating some lunch, we opted to let the tides take us through Peavine Pass and down the west side of Blakely, which was very pleasant paddling. We took another break just east of Willow Island before again dodging the ferry traffic as we paddled through Thatcher Pass before quickly arriving at James Island.
Ferry big, kayak small.
We found a lovely campsite and hung out for a while before Matt started to grow restless. James Island, while beautiful, is too small to provide adequately challenging bushwhacking, so we needed to come up with a more creative way for Matt to get his wiggles out. We walked over to the public boat dock, then Matt and I talked one another into swimming back to camp, while Luca and Adam kindly offered to carry our shoes back. Now, the swim was only a mere 300 yards or so, but I am not an open water swimmer, and I think Matt was genuinely concerned that I would drown. Honestly, it was very touching. We both made it back to our campsite without incident, however, to find Pieter (fresh out of fire academy) drilling Mike and Alex on medical emergency scenarios. It’s nice to have such well-prepared and caring friends. After drying out, we crushed a massive pot of mac and cheese before a lovely stroll to take in the sunset views.
Group photo at sunset.
James Island shoreline at dusk.
Adam and I goofing around.
I got up early the next morning to walk around the southern tip of the island and enjoy the sunrise, then we packed up the boats for an early start with calm currents crossing Rosario Strait. Before setting off, we spent an obligatory 15 mins exploring the tide pools near our campsite. I loved watching all 6 of my friends spread out around the beach, all engrossed in the interesting fauna. A small brightly colored starfish was the crowd favorite.
Matt showring off the tiny crab he found, with Luca and Alex busy with their own discoveries in the background.
Our boats ready for the last paddle back to Burrows Pass and Anacortes.
We set off across Rosario Strait, which was a straightforward crossing, before the final crux of our voyage, paddling against the current a short distance up Burrows Pass to reach our take out. The currents in this area can easily be 3-4 knots, which doesn’t sound too bad if you don’t realize that a comfortable paddling speed is about the same (at least for us newbies). Anticipating this, I had exercised my groom-to-be privilege and kicked Pieter out of his boat so I could finally benefit from being in Matt’s boat. Each of his paddlestrokes sent us surging ahead, and we quickly left everyone else in the dust as the current strengthened. We reached the last beach and regrouped with the other boats, and everyone was in high spirits. I’m so lucky to have such a wonderful group of friends.