Hey neighbors! Tuning in from Rick’s driveway boat in Prince Rupert. While I have to crumple my legs a bit to fit the lower bed, there’s no denying the blackout curtains and chilly breeze make it cozy as can be. The Serenade of the Seas towers over Prince Rupert Harbour, 50 times longer than our kayaks and 40 times taller than our humans. We’ve seen plenty of cruise ships pass us by at night, dodging the inevitable channel-clogging for our recent stretches through Princess Royal and Grenville Channels, but this is the first one up close.
We shared a ferry to Bella Bella with other paddlers we met in the Port Hardy hostel, and a happenstance meeting of Seattle Mountaineers paddlers. Cape Caution seemed calm in the distance as we passed, but water-level in a kayak is always a different ballgame. First stop after the ferry was Shearwater Island, which Ingmar – a local man who boated over to us sporting a premade political sign – suggested instead of the town proper. Right away the weather became more dreary, quiet, and a sense of eerieness loomed around each corner. Fog sitting low, a constant light drizzle, and the birds seemingly on vacation.
Souvenir from the ferry! It lives on the front of my kayak
Mathieson Chanel immediately greeted us with a humpback whale launching out of the water 30ft away, its mouth flapping open before smacking back down with a tail flip finish. The rest of the way up to Rescue Bay and Jackson Narrows teetered on the edge of enjoyable conditions, with following seas building and my temperature dropping before a much needed lunch break to warm up and reevaluate. The seas calmed and we finished out only to be greeted by a lovely couple, Sarah and Ben. They waved and yelled from their sailboat asking what time they could pick us up in a dinghy to have drinks, cheese and crackers, and meet their dogs Coconut and Willoughby.
Jackson Narrows shot us down channel towards Klemtu; a slight glimpse of a channel marker caught our eye through the settling fog. Klemtu proved lovely for a lunch spot and candy resupply at the Band Store, before finishing up our day on Sarah Island. Fish guts speckled the water as we passed a cannery across the way, and an angry sea lion let us know we overstayed our welcome when checking out the Boat Bluff Lighthouse. Our loud singing and bear warnings came to a surprising halt once we neared shore, and realized behind the safety of the fog was actually 6 other campers – 3 of whom were also paddling the Inside Passage, and 3 who were off work and came up from Klemtu as well.
Knowing there were a few groups right on top of each other, we opted to take a rest day heading into Princess Royal Channel – infamous for a lack of camping and landing options. Paddling 15+ miles only to find 3 people at an already miniscule site was not exactly what we wanted to run into, but is inevitable in this trip gaining popularity. Another amazing whale tail sighting at the confluence of Tolmie Channel and Hiekish Narrows greeted us into the main channel. Narrow as can be, our focus changed from route finding through mazes of islands to beach finding among the cliffs. Waterfalls flood into the ocean every hundred feet, mostly down steep sheets of rock instead of pleasant stream beds.
Another day brought us to the esteemed abandoned fishing town of Butedale. Sasha has been raving about this place from the inception of planning, her interest piqued and excitement burbling every nautical mile closer we got.
While not exactly the easiest on the eyes, Butedale sports a massive abandoned bunkhouse standing above the water. Part gymnasium, part living quarters, part office, part industrial machinery, and part bowling alley – it’s got it all! This open-air, artisanal abode had a certain rustic charm; interrupted only by the rotting planks, a tree growing in the middle of the floor, and the general lean to every surface. In the best of ways, of course. A right-of-passage for anyone travelling the Inside Passage. The old caretaker’s quarters are now inhabited by bats, and a creepy doll adorns the porch railing. Despite this, the shelter offered a very welcome break from incessant rain.
We met a large group of friends from nearby Kitimat who invited us over for rum and coke, and offered to give us a ride up to the Bishop Bay Hotsprings the following day. While a bit off the main course, it was about the same mileage that continuing out of Butedale would’ve been. The hotsprings brought us more interesting people to meet every few hours: A couple guys with a cute husky named Rose, some fisherman who showed us how to process a salmon, a whale research boat, and a man whose father worked at the Butedale Cannery decades ago – often bringing him to live and visit during peak operation years.
Kitimat friends’ boat!
Heading out of Princess Royal Channel took us on a fairly simple outing to the mouth of Grenville Channel, albeit a very foggy crossing. Grenville is similarly narrow, but more landing options seemed to be traded for less predictable weather. We aimed for a cabin in Lowe Inlet we had heard rumours of being very difficult to find. Thanks to a great maps pin a few weeks prior from a solo paddler we felt confident (thanks Pascal!). Word was you had to bushwhack and couldn’t see it from the water, but I caught a glimpse of the roof tucked inside some trees that eased our suspicions. The chance to dry some gear in a cozy cabin was much needed, and we made sure to sign the logbook before heading out.
Lowe Inlet Cabin
Impromptu sites dotted the shore as we made for Oona River, where we were hoping to have service to coordinate with a connection in Prince Rupert and to clarify a daunting weather forecast we had received on our Garmin InReach. Sure enough, the forecast confirmed 30kt winds when we would’ve planned to be on a tiny exposed island and our last day before Prince Rupert, so we opted for a local water taxi pickup for the final stretch. Oona River was absolutely lovely – 5 different people in the community helped us schedule the taxi, brought us warm muffins, stopped by with dogs, and invited us to have coffee with the neighborhood. A short paddle upriver took us to the grassy patch behind their recreation center for camping, and a slightly longer paddle/walk at low tide took us back to meet the ferry in the morning. The skiff dock was a welcome sight to slide our kayaks up instead of a pure vertical lift out of the water.
Rick has been incredible to us here in Prince Rupert, making us breakfast and chai each morning, and letting us use a car to sort out errands as needed. Our gear coated his driveway as we attempted to clean, sort, and dry, and re-waterproof our gear. He was also kind enough to hold many packages for us, between my new Greenland paddle, warranty claims, replacement gear, and a bear fence for upcoming grizzly territory.
Rick sending us back out to Alaska!
We planned from the start of this trip to say “yes” to niche opportunities, and to connect with the people we meet along the way. Everyone is out in these waters for a different reason, and engaging with those aspects has been so rewarding. We’ve been lucky to receive so much kindness from complete strangers, and hopefully we’ve been putting that back out in the world to reciprocate. Doesn’t matter where you started from or where you’re heading – if you’re neighbors, you’re neighbors.
The next chunk will be heading back into US soil as we cross into Alaska – Ketchikan being the first notable stop. So long, Canada, and thanks for all the friends.
- Billy, Nick, and Sasha
