Radio update

The photo above comes courtesy of Steve Weileman, one of my paddling partners on the upcoming Ikkatsu Expedition. He took it when we were going around Vashon Island back in March, our first shakedown cruise in preparation for the coast survey. (It also happened to be the first time I pulled the trawl net, which is why I look like I'm working so hard - because I was!)

Anyway, after I got bumped from the radio show on Tuesday, I was a little gun-shy about announcing it again, just in case I got moved another time. But it will be on today and, through the magic of the internet, you can actually listen to it now. If you go to the web site and then click on the "Listen Now" button on the right side of the page, today's show comes up. (My segment follows the Nantucket doctor, about halfway through.) It looks like it will be there for a few days, anyway.

Hope it sounds ok...

Steve has a new post up on the Ikkatsu web site too, about how it all seems to be coming so fast. That's exactly what I was thinking.

Down to the wire

The tent has been seam-sealed, I'm working on getting the personal gear together for the first leg of the trip and I expect to get a geiger counter in the mail any day now. (More on that later.) But mostly, I'm up at all hours of the night, writing.

There's the outline of the shooting script for the Ikkatsu project that is constantly being refined. And, with only a few days left of SAMi, there's the draft of the Point Defiance Trails Guide that needs to get emailed in to the powers that be. It's going well and I think we'll end up with a usable mass of verbiage - it's just that it's all up against the deadline and I'm feeling the stress. (I guess that's why they call it a "deadline.")

This is where a cup of tea can be helpful, and there's one on the way right now.

Linkage and more linkage

After getting bumped from yesterday's NPR show (my segment is supposed to air on Thursday now), I figured I should probably send out a couple more links, just because. 

First of all, Kokatat has put our smiling faces on their Expeditions Page, as well as given us some new PFDs and anoraks that I expect will see heavy use in the weeks and months ahead. (Pretty much everything we already had was Kokatat stuff anyway; we really didn't need a whole lot more.) It's a classy organization, that Kokatat, and we're very pleased to have its support.

Steve has posted the latest project video to the Ikkatsu site, a short synopsis of our trip to Anderson Island last month. It gives a feel for what is still to come, and I am really pleased with the way it turned out. The editing is good and the quality of the picture is outstanding. Now, for some waves in the background and the barking of sea lions...

So much more to tell, but for now, this will have to do.

On the radio

My interview on the NPR show "The Story with Dick Gordon," is scheduled for today. It's a preview of the Ikkatsu Expedition and I talk about how the idea came about, the route and what we are expecting to find along the way. (At least, that's what I think I talked about... I'm going to tune in myself just to see if I said everything right.) 

In the Seattle/Tacoma area, it will be on at 2pm on KUOW2 (91.7 FM). Check your local public radio listings for the time in your area. If the local station doesn't broadcast this show, or if you live outside the US, you should be able to get it online here.

Update: The powers that be have bumped my segment. It's now scheduled for Thursday afternoon instead. 

Waving the flag

The year has rolled around to this point again, where we as a nation look back on the sacrifices of those who gave their all for our right to have a day off, to go to the big sale at the mall, barbeque in the rain and drink too much fizzy, yellow beer. 

Sorry... that sounds far too cynical.

As the war in Afghanistan begins to taper off (for the US, anyway), and now that the American portion of the conflict in Iraq is over, it might behoove us all to reflect - just for a minute, if that's all you can spare - on those who paid the ultimate price in the service of their country. It's a quaint notion, I know, but entire platoons and squadrons died for it. And if dying for a notion seems pointless, especially when we put the reality of it all into human terms like family, fathers and sons, we need to realize that it wasn't pointless for them. 

As for me, I'm already against the next war.

A Really big map

In the Ikkatsu Expedition division of labor, Kiwi is the map guy. He works in GIS, so he has the expertise and the equipment needed to put together a map that covers the entire expedition coastline. He actually made two that he dropped off for me the other day, and the small one is about four feet long. The big one is a work of art, eight feet from top to bottom and my biggest challenge is going to be finding a wall I can hang it on. (You can see a picture of Kiwi with the map at the Ikkatsu site.)

For planning purposes, I'm using the smaller one. Curt Ebbesmeyer wanted us to divide the route up into one-mile sections of coastline, then document our surveys based on that breakdown. I've marked the map already and I'm looking at each of the segments to try to pick the areas where I expect the debris to be the most likely. I'm looking for southwest facing hooks and small pockets where the coastal currents would indicate likely deposition. It's a start and I don't know that all the beaches I pick now will end up being the ones where we will actually do the grids, but in order to be able to change a plan, you have to have one.

Mostly, as I sit looking at the new map and tracing the shoreline with my finger, I'm imagining the way it's going to be when we're out there. Cape Flattery, Point of the Arches, Goodman Creek... they are so much more than names on a piece of paper...

Privileges of membership

I'm mailing in my membership dues to the only two clubs I belong to, at least at the moment. (I'm not one of the world's greatest joiners, but there are a few groups that catch my imagination.)

Surfrider is one of them. I honestly can't think of any other organization that is doing as much to raise awareness about the health of our oceans than the Surfrider Foundation. It is my honor to be the Treasurer of the South Sound chapter; I see first-hand the good that the organization does not only here in western Washington, but around the world. I'm happy to send in my check - it would be a bargain at twice the price.

The other check I sent out today was to Kayak Newfoundland and Labrador. I was doing my circumnavigation of Newfoundland when this club came into existence and I've been a member since that very first year. It's more of a sentimental act really... I don't get the opportunity to hang out with other club members much, given the miles between us, but it's a relationship that I don't intend to let lapse. I will get back to the Rock someday, and if any of the other club members get out this way, I'd be happy to host them. Seriously, one of the most together clubs anywhere.

A Rare evening paddle

It was breezy yesterday evening, but sunny. If it weren't for the wind, the temperature might have actually been considered "warm." 

I had the chance to meet up with John Inch for a SUP paddle down on the Foss, and I took it. We cheated up into the wind at the start, ducking into the marinas and behind the bigger yachts to stay out of the gale, making progress, slowly but steadily. It's something of a game, really, trying to find the route that will get you farther on with the least amount of pain and effort.

Eventually we cut out into the main channel and faced the force that we had been avoiding. A stout wind, barreling down out of the bay and straight up the waterway, directly in our faces. We did battle for a while, but soon made the decision to turn and take the downwind run back to the dock. With the wind at our backs now, and a rolling swell pushing us along, we covered to return distance in a matter of minutes.

Then to the pub for a pint and a snack. Good conversation and the chance to catch up with life, the universe and everything. And I still had time to make it home for a fire on the deck and story time with the boy. An evening well spent.

Ebbesmeyer interview

Steve and I had the opportunity to spend some time with noted flotsam expert Dr. Curtis Ebbesmeyer earlier in the week and get his input on our upcoming trip. Steve has posted some excerpts of an interview we did with him on the Ikkatsu web site (here).

We learned a lot.

Truth, beaches and government

"During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act." 

George Orwell.

Steve and I just spent a couple of days in Port Angeles, where we attended a presentation and a workshop on tsunami debris that featured Dr. Curtis Ebbesmeyer and a whole bunch of Power Point slides on what we can expect to find on our trip this summer. How the flotsam travels across the ocean, where it is likely to hit and what kind of debris we're likely to encounter: all these and more were discussed.

I spoke with a DNR employee who said that, on a day trip last weekend to Shi Shi Beach, he saw "more than a hundred" black oyster buoys, a number that strongly suggests that the debris is here already. Ebbesmeyer repeated the assertion that what is coming ashore now will continue and that the really big concentrations will get to the Washington coast in October. The situation is bad and we can expect it to get worse before it gets better.

I went up to Seattle yesterday to tape a segment of the NPR show, "The Story," with Dick Gordon, about the Ikkatsu Expedition and the goals and expectations we have for the trip. I broke down the story of the tsunami debris into three components and discussed its environmental aspects, its scientific perspective and the personal or human interest element. The environmental side of the story is that there was a 400-mile section of Japanese coast that was hit by the tsunami and the debris that washed off the shore and is headed in this direction is stretched out over a swath of ocean equivalent to two Californias placed end to end.

The scientific aspect, at least in my mind, is the story of predictive models of when and where the debris is likely to come ashore. Studies such as ours will focus on quantifying the flotsam and amassing the data needed to come up with effective action plans.

The personal side of the story has the potential to be the most powerful. Some of the items that will be found will be able to be connected with actual living human beings or, in the event that the owners perished in the disaster, with the surviving family members. Whatever the item may be - a basketball, a piece of a house, a keepsake of one sort or another - the specific item may be all that's left to connect those people involved with a part of their lives that has otherwise disappeared entirely.

I got home to find an email from Steve that linked to local news coverage of senate hearings where a representative from NOAA is on record as saying that,  "We haven't been able to find any debris." The article went on to talk about how it might be advantageous for the Federal Government to take this approach because any cleanup will be expensive and there simply isn't the money to deal with a problem of this magnitude. Best to just pretend it's not there.

(Based on the vitriol and ignorance displayed in the comments section of the article, it seems many citizens feel the same way. It looks a lot like the games of hide-and-seek I played with Micah when he would simply close his eyes and think that I wouldn't be able to see him. But he was one year-old then. Some of the commenters don't seem to have gotten much past that point in their intellectual development, and they certainly don't know how to express themselves without going all Fox News on the subject.)

In retrospect, I should have included a fourth element of the tsunami saga when I talked with Dick Gordon: the political side. I really didn't see it coming, which I see now as being incredibly naive. To have a government representative 3000 miles away talking about how no debris is being found at the same time that people on the beaches are finding debris in large numbers is a disconnect that can only come from political myopia and the obfuscation of ulterior motives. 

I'm still approaching this story from the standpoint of the first three aspects I mentioned. But I'm a whole lot more aware of the fourth one now as well.

Off to PA

I have school to teach this morning and then Steve and I are off to Port Angeles for some interviews this afternoon and the Ebbesmeyer presentation this evening. Tomorrow morning we'll be attending a tsunami debris workshop that Curt is putting on and in the afternoon we'll get a chance to sit down with him, on-camera, and get some of his input relating to the trip this summer.

I keep saying "this summer," as if the start date is still a long way off. But it's not... less than three weeks now until we push off the beach at Neah Bay. There is still more to be done, but it seems to me that we're ready. Perhaps it's one of those things where "ready as we'll ever be," is the best we can do. If so, then we're ready as we'll ever be.

It feels like everything is coming due at the same time. School only has a couple more weeks to go, which means I better get busy with finishing up the trails guide my class has been working on this semester. The shop is doing well, but with new paddleboards on their way, there will be bills to pay here in pretty short order. And the Ikkatsu Expedition is taking up most of my imagination these days; I am really looking forward to the research as well as the paddling. So there's a lot going on.

And we've got to jet back to town tomorrow when we're done in PA because I've got a pre-school graduation program to get to. Among other things, the boy will be singing "Head and shoulders, knees and toes," in French. I wouldn't miss that for the world.

Step away from the glow

According to Eric Schmidt, Google's Executive Chairman, it's a good idea to take a break from the computer every now and then. "Take one hour a day and turn that thing off," he told the graduating class at Boston College the other day.

I have a better idea. Turn it on for one hour a day. Take the other 23 and do something really interesting.

Toothiness

I was doing a San Juan trip years ago for Tahoma Outdoor Pursuits when I had a dental emergency. We were camped on Strawberry Island (remember Strawberry Island?), and somehow I lost a filling. Where my mouth had felt normal one minute, it now featured a gaping cavern in one of my teeth, and I couldn't stop exploring and worrying the jagged edges of the new void with the tip of my tongue. I don't remember it hurting, but on day one of a three or four day trip, with a full load of clients and no dentist in sight, I was in a tight spot.

I did have a dental repair kit in my first aid kit, however. It was something that I'd carried around for quite a while, never thinking I'd need it and yet, here I was. I squeezed some of the pinkish bondo out of the tiny tube that it came in and shaped it quickly into and around the new cavity. In a matter of a few minutes it had hardened in place and I went to bed that night without further incident. The repair lasted for the rest of the trip, no problem. In fact, I remember not making it to the dentist for a few weeks after the trip was over, and the temporary filling was still firmly in place the whole time. The dentist chuckled a bit as he did the real replacement but we were both pretty impressed with the way the pink stuff had held.

That was a long time ago and I haven't replaced the kit. With this summer's trip approaching, I thought it might be a good idea to have the dental emergencies covered so I went to the local big-box outdoor store yesterday evening to find a new kit. They didn't have one, which I found a bit surprising. They had lots of clothes though, fashionable outdoor-themed apparel. They had Chinese bicycles and in-line skates, nylon day packs and rubber sandals. They even had some first aid kits, next to a full aisle of technicolor water bottles, but no tooth repair items.

I'll keep looking.

FYI

I don't know why, but I've never liked it when people actually say "FYI." It's a handy acronym in writing and when it's on the page, it doesn't bother me, but when people use it in conversation it just grates on me. I realize it probably says more about me than it does about them and the fact that it bothers me won't even register with the person who's saying it, but there it is. I need to get past that, I suppose.

Anyway, FYI, there's a presentation next Monday evening in Port Angeles that I am looking forward to attending. Dr. Curtis Ebbesmeyer, the guru of ocean currents, the esteemed author of Flotsametrics, will be giving a talk at Peninsula Community College at 7pm. We'll be filming the presentation for Surfrider and it will be uploaded to YouTube later. (I'll keep track of that and post more info when it's available). More details on the presentation and the workshops that are scheduled for the rest of the week can be found here.

We'll also be interviewing Dr. Ebbesmeyer on Tuesday for the Ikkatsu project. I expect many good nuggets of information with that.

I posted an update to the Ikkatsu web site this morning about the towing practice we did the other night. There are some problems associated with pulling a trawl net behind a kayak, mostly related to the incredible amount of drag that comes with it. We're working on possible solutions and I hope to report the fix soon.

Other than that, it's just getting down to the nitty gritty with expedition prep. Gotta buy a new dental emergency kit, which will be the final item for the first aid kit. The menu for the first leg is mostly complete but there's still some food planning to do before I can head to the grocery store. I'm going over the shooting script for the first leg, trying to adequately anticipate where the story will go, at least enough to give Steve some plan for the story boards. 

So there you go. FYI.

Now appearing in your area...

When we first started planning for the Ikkatsu Expedition, we were expecting to find some pieces of flotsam on this summer's trip, but not much. (I guess I'm speaking for myself, but the impression I got was that most of the stuff will be hitting Washington beaches in 2013.) The big stuff was projected to get here sooner, but I don't think I was honestly expecting there to be so much "big stuff."

Well, I have changed my way of thinking. Buoys and floats are making landfall as we speak. Not only on the coast itself, but working their way up the straits too. Other lighter, larger items as well. And, if the number that have already gotten here is any indication, we are going to find plenty on the trip. 

I was excited already; I'm even more so now.

Sitka love

We had another on-water prep session yesterday evening, trying out an in-line tow with the trawl net we got from 5 Gyres. More on that later... I think I'll write up a short account of that whole situation over on the expedition web site later.

(Spoiler alert.) It wasn't all that successful.

On the up side, however, it was the first time I paddled the boat since the Anderson Island trip last month and since I've done a few remodels. Everything performed well and I am as happy with that boat now as the day I bought her. There's new padding in the cockpit, new bungee where it needed it, all the fastex buckles on the inside (for the cockpit aux bags) are reglued and solid. About the only thing I have left to do is to take the rudder assembly apart and check the moving parts, replace what needs replacing, and put it back together. And then she's ready.

A few scars, but not as many as her owner.

Best. Paddlefloat. Ever.

I just ordered a pile of these for the shop... hand-made in Anacortes, Washington. Availability is limited so they will go fast. When they're gone, I'll try to get more but the folks that put them out are notoriously overtasked and the delay has been known to be considerable. You have been warned.

Seriously, these are the best paddlefloats that your money can buy. It is a revolutionary design that works perfectly, just as advertised. And that's a rare thing these days. Get one while you can.

$40 + tax. You can order by calling Azimuth Expeditions at 253.691.7941 or by sending an email to info@azimuthexpeditions.com. (Or you can always come into the shop and do it the old-fashioned way.)

Thinking 'bout a beach

The roadless coast of the Olympic Peninsula sees its share of backpackers each summer. The beach hike is pretty popular - some sections of it anyway - and along with the Wonderland Trail and the Ptarmigan Traverse, it would have to be considered one of the classic hikes in Washington State.

Because the coastline is so convoluted, however, so punctuated by rocky headlands and cliffs that make beach travel difficult in some places and impossible in others, hikers don't see the whole shoreline. The trail leaves the beach in many places, climbing up to the forest above to get around the obstacles, and the result is that there are portions of the coast that are virtually unseen by anyone. So, even though there may be a few thousand backpackers out there in any given summer, even though the beaches are often scoured by cleanup efforts, there is still a substantial portion of the Olympic coast that doesn't see human visitors.

Unless they come by kayak. The sea kayak is the ideal craft to get to the places that can't be explored any other way. Through the rock gardens, past the arches and standing stones, up to the remote pocket beaches of sand and gravel that hide among the cliffs. (I think it could be done by SUP as well, but that is a story that will have to wait for another time.) 

The relative inaccessibility of some of these spots is the rationale for the Ikkatsu Expedition, set to begin in about 3 weeks. With the tsunami debris on the way/here already, it seemed to us that kayaks were the perfect way to document the impact on places that are not often seen at all. 

I have paddled this coast on different occasions in years past; some of the sections I've done at least a dozen times, others only once. I've never been a part of a kayaking project as interesting as this though, as timely and as relevant. I've never been involved in filming a kayak adventure before, or conducting scientific surveys as part of a paddling expedition. 

This stretch of coastline is my favorite place to kayak in the world. So far.  

Money floats

I have a kayak in the shop with a price tag of $3000. It's used (only lightly), and the price represents a significant savings from $4200, which is what it cost when it was new. I don't know if I'll be able to sell it for that or not... it's a good boat but that's a lot of money.

I've owned two sailboats (so far), and neither one of them cost $4200. A 21-foot San Juan and a 27-foot Buccaneer; each of them slept four comfortably, cruised at 6-8 knots, carried 6-10 people at one point or another. They were good boats and worth the money I spent on them.

This is not to compare sailboats and kayaks except to say, that as boats go, kayaks today are overpriced. (I'm sure my saying so will upset the sputtering class, inasmuch as they are paying attention to what I say anyway. So be it.) When all those kayak manufacturing jobs got moved to China from places like British Columbia, Tennessee and Washington, part of the reason for their moving was cost. It was going to be cheaper to produce kayaks overseas - I guess it was wishful thinking to believe that the savings would be passed down to actual kayakers. 

Prices have just gone up and up. It stretches credulity to see how keeping production here in the hemisphere would have caused prices to climb any more than they already have. If, as the companies said, it is cheaper to produce them overseas, then where have all the savings gone? Who is pocketing the money? It sure isn't the individual kayaker.

And, just as important, the stratospheric price of a new kayak is keeping the younger consumer from the sport. There aren't many 20-somethings that can cough up the $5000 it's going to take to get started. And the folks that are even younger, even more important to the continuation of kayaking, they aren't even considering it. (I suppose this is my pitch for buying a used kayak - great boats at affordable prices might be what it will take to get new people into a kayak of their own.)

There are still a few boats made in the US and Canada. You have to look for them but they are out there. And the amazing thing is, they cost about the same as their Asian counterparts. (Perhaps not so amazing after all.)

Posing

When it comes to outdoor adventure, the clothes most decidedly do not make the man. (Or woman.) One only needs to take a short stroll through the mall to see the truth in that little observation. 

Having the right clothes for the task at hand, however, is a fine thing indeed. When you are on the side of a mountain somewhere, the difference between one manufacturer and another will make itself evident in fairly short order. And it almost goes without saying that, here in the Pacific Northwest where the rain is always a factor, there is Goretex and then there is everything else. It costs more because it's worth more.

I remember driving through Iowa years ago and being struck by the number of people who were wearing surfing-related attire. Everyone seemed like they were ready for the beach, even though the nearest wave was well over a thousand miles away. They wanted to look like surfers though, regardless of whether that was actually the case. (This is not a slam on the good people of Iowa... it could have been any number of other spots. It just happened to be Ames.)

I guess this is judgement, even though I like to say that judging isn't something I do. And I'm not really sure why it's coming up now. It's not a rant either, just an observation.

It's a matter of cause and effect: While buying the clothes doesn't make you a surfer or a climber or a skiier, people who really do engage in these and other outdoor activities will naturally gravitate to what works best. So, if the real climbers are wearing one particular brand of jacket, the fake climbers will as well. And so on. It's a form of flattery really, an attempt to absorb some of the heat of adventure without ever really seeing its light.

Inside of a month

I've been working on my boat. A fair bit of glue, putting in some buckles for interior bags and heel padding near the pedals. I thought about replacing the rudder cables - they're showing a bit of rust and wear - but I've decided to let it ride for now. I have the parts to fix whatever breaks and I'll have them with me on the trip as well. I can do the deed then if I have to.

I got the damn boot off my foot yesterday. Went to see the doc and he seemed pleased with the progress. So, with some caveats about what I can do and where, what kind of footwear is recommended, etc. I am now clear to paddle, after three weeks in the S&M footwear. 

I've been meaning to take a few photos of the kayak as I've been working on it, just to give an idea of where I'm at and what I'm doing. But honestly, the pictures (if I would have taken any), wouldn't show much. In the words of the Little Prince, "What is essential is invisible to the eye." The mundane tasks I've been engaged in just wouldn't lend themselves to any photo analysis. It's all important though... at least I like to think so.

I'm going out for a morning paddle this morning. First one in three weeks. It's all kayaking for a while now... I'm going to miss the SUP - a little - but I expect I'll make some time here and there for a little water walking when I can. But it's the kayak that matters now.

The trip, the first phase of it anyway, begins one month from today. In my mind, it's already started.

More linkage

One of the most prolific and entertaining kayak blogs I've followed over the past five years or so has been Kayakquixotica. There's a nice write-up on that site today about the Ikkatsu project.

I am so ready to get started.

Supermoon

The currents through the Narrows yesterday were about as strong as they get: a 4.8 knot ebb in the morning and a 5.6 flood later in the day. For a waterway that's a mile wide at its narrowest point, that's some serious velocity. I am not going to pretend that I can do the math, but I know that the amount of moving water represented by those kinds of current speeds is immense. 

It wasn't hard to see either. The surface of the water was moving in sheets and boils and upwellings were visible all over. As the tide fell, the beach grew wider at a pace that was easily discernible, and the same was true in the afternoon as well.

It's because of the moon, as is normally the case when it comes to matters like these. Yesterday's full moon was a supermoon, meaning that it occurred at a point when the moon was actually about 15,000 miles closer to the Earth than is typically the case and pushed the water around the planet even more than usual. The power of the moon should not be underestimated.

The proximity of last night's moon made it look even bigger than a normal full moon looks too. I happened to be up around 4:30am, when the moon was nearing our western horizon, and it looked bigger, yellower and closer. (I just looked outside a few minutes ago and the waning gibbous we've got tonight, while still beautiful, doesn't have the same magic.) 

Sundays

Yeah... I know today is only Saturday.

However, starting on May 6th, Azimuth Expeditions and Playback Sports will be open on Sundays. Up until now, we've been closed one day a week but with the warmer weather coming (it is on the way, right?), we're going to try a 7-day a week schedule and see how it works out. I'm planning on being there every Sunday this month, so if you've got kayaking or SUP questions, come on in and say hello.

A Long ride

In a story that came out a couple days ago, a Harley that was washed out to sea in the March 2011 tsunami has made landfall. Japan to Canada, a long voyage no matter what the craft, but a truly amazing ride for a motorcycle.

4000 miles in 14 months. 

The bike was owned by Ikuo Yokoyama, who was identified by a license plate search. Mr. Yokoyama lost 3 members of his family in the wake of the tsunami and the bike must seem like a time capsule for him. "This is unmistakably mine," he told Nippon TV upon being shown photos of the beach-bound bike. "It is miraculous." The Harley is set to be shipped back to Yokoyama soon and it would not surprise me if it finds its way back to the roads of Miyagi Prefecture eventually.

Linking

The folks at Canoe and Kayak have run a piece on the Ikkatsu Expedition (written by yours truly.) There are a bunch of attached photos, some taken by me, some by Steve Weileman, all of which are downright inspirational, if you ask me.)

I'm inspired, anyway. Let's go.

We hardly knew ye

Junior Seau has apparently punched his own ticket today. According to the preliminary reports, it was a self-inflicted gunshot wound that ended it. Suicide. For reasons we couldn't understand, even if he would have explained them to us. Which he didn't.

I am a Packer fan, so there's no connection with team angst involved here. But there is a quiet tear shed for someone who was a great competitor, who never put himself above the game and who actually got out on the waves from time to time. In spite of the fact that he was a New England Patriot - for a short time, anyway - he will be missed. 

RIP

The Cape, Shi Shi and stacks of stacks

In a little more than a month - it hardly seems possible how fast the time is going - we'll be starting our trip down the roadless Olympic coast. Foremost among the purposes of the expedition is the search for tsunami debris and the surveying of remote beaches that are difficult, if not impossible, to access any other way. In addition, we'll be doing some data collection on floating plastic particles by pulling a trawl net behind our boats. It's all very scientific and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't very cool. I am enjoying the preparation and I am getting a charge out of the learning that's happening for me personally, and the chance that I'll have to extend that knowledge to others later on.

But the trip will also happen on another level, and as the departure date moves closer, I can't help but think of the actual locations we'll be paddling in. The caves of Cape Flattery will come first, during the initial leg of the journey. Soaring chambers of water in motion, a mix of other-worldly light and noises, as well as tight passages in the rock, quiet as midnight, where the sun has never shone. 

After that comes the broad reach of Shi Shi Beach, where the hippies once lived in driftwood shacks on the edge of the dawning age. Where, centuries before them, the native Americans gathered shellfish and whales, lived in longhouses and wore cedar bark. The thumping drumbeat of the waves on the sand echoes in my head even now, as I write this. I can picture the campsite already, tucked up into the trees above the tide, above the tangle of driftwood.

South of that, well, I see stacks. Father and Son, Jagged Island, and scores of others with no names yet. I see the arches and the blow holes, the caves and the sheer faces. I can hear the oystercatchers and the eagles, the rush of the wind across the stone.

The Ikkatsu Expedition will be a chance to increase scientific knowledge, and I am looking forward to that. But it will also be so much more, and I can't wait for it all to come true.