Yesterday in Telegraph Cove BC, Rob and I got into our double kayak and paddled out in search of orcas. It was sunny and 18 degrees... Rob had strategically planned for us to paddle in the same direction as high tide, then turn around when the tide returned. This all made perfect sense to me as we made our way effortlessly towards a channel where the orcas are known to feed on salmon.
Yesterday in Telegraph Cove BC, Rob and I got into our double kayak and paddled out in search of orcas. It was sunny and 18 degrees... Rob had strategically planned for us to paddle in the same direction as high tide, then turn around when the tide returned. This all made perfect sense to me as we made our way effortlessly towards a channel where the orcas are known to feed on salmon.
We were a couple of hours from shore when we encountered something neither one of us had ever seen before: a confluence of tide and currents that created swells and whirlpools and an ensuing kayak rodeo which had me wondering if I would ever hug
my dog again. I paddled for my life, Rob staying calm because...well, one of us had to. Once we were out of the turbulence we headed for a remote rocky beach because I really really needed to go to the bathroom.
As both of us began to pee behind our chosen driftwood, we were treated to quite a sight: a male orca, two females and a calf. Approximately a kilometer away, in the middle of the channel, the exact spot that we had just vacated.
So excited to get a better look, I convinced Rob that my fear of Pacific Ocean whirlpools had miraculously disappeared, and off we went, because at that moment I had to believe that I could not only paddle as fast as an orca can swim, but even faster because there was much ground (or water) to make up. The spouts and black triangular fins in the distance didn't get any bigger.
But after the ocean helped to carry us further and further from my hot shower and my three bottles of wine, we realized it was time to turn around. I pulled out my telephoto to grab a few orca shots, then we changed directions. Rob's initial plan to paddle along with the tide was great in theory. But the winds
had another idea. We were now paddling into strong waves, and we were still quite a distance from our cabin, and most importantly, my wine.
Back in October I broke my collarbone after tripping over my dog Dude. Last month the X-ray showed that my collarbone was still fractured. The double-kayak-symmetry that Rob and I had with our paddles when the day began was a distant memory, it was just
all desperation now and I became jealous of anyone with a full collarbone. The guy in that fishing boat way off in the distance. Not only did he have a motor, he probably had a full collarbone.
Then the clouds appeared. Big, black, threatening clouds. And thunder claps. Rob commented on how strange it was to have a thunderstorm on a cool day on the west coast. I commented on the fact that 'at least it's not raining'.
As the sheets of rain began to fall, I was glad that the
sunscreen streaming from my face to the inside of my mouth was flavorless. I was also glad that the salmon that dove out of the water beside me didn't land on my boat. I tried to be glad for little things. It kept my mind off the fact that we were caught in a storm on the Pacific ocean.
I no longer had any feeling in my arms and it was adrenalin that kept my paddle in the water. Rob's back was in knots. But there was only one way back, and for the next three and a half hours, we kept paddling through the waves, the rain, the occasional
thunder.
When we finally reached Telegraph Cove, Rob had to pry my paddle out of my grey hands. My fingers were stuck in a curled grip which eventually made it difficult to hold a glass of wine. But I perservered, and I drank that wine like a pro.
In total, we had kayaked for six and a half hours and covered over thirty-three kilometres, over half of which was during a Pacific Ocean storm. But at least I got a photo of the dorsal fin of an orca.
Today we are going whale watching. On a ship. With a motor.
