“Inside” the Inside Passage

An update on Tuffy's voyage...why do we put ourselves through it?

Article by John Hughes

One of those extraordinary days today, when a dour disposition (brought on by another day of rain and a five-day forecast for the same) morphs into an epic experience. The rain ceased as I made fast to the fuel dock this morning and it hasn’t returned as I hit the bunk after 11PM. The winds behaved all day as well, so our forays into skinny cuts and wider canals alike were flat and comfortable. To be a truly great day there needs be a little something to pump the blood, and that arrived as we left Reid Passage for Mathieson Channel.

Initially you’re exposed to the swells Queen Charlotte is sending , and with proper diligence you’ve already seen a little “Caution” marker on your Navionics route and, zooming in, would already know all about Perceval Rapids. If you somehow miss that chart note, you’ll soon learn by virtue of experience that the ocean swells interact with water from adjacent canals and, with even a little wind and an ebb tide, the potential exists for some very turbulent water. Nothing to panic about, just enough to get the blood flowing as you figure out where you should be and get there.

Today also culminated in our first humpback whale sighting—a solo individual apparently napping just outside Rescue Bay at the end of our day’s cruise. Warned on Channel 16 by a couple of sailors in their bobbing inflatables, I cut back to neutral and stepped out into the cockpit. Sure enough a leviathan was there stretched out, apparently mesmerized by the fact that it was not raining. He finally gave a snort, submerged, and lifted a fin high into the air before giving a good slap and, accelerating rapidly. I watched his arched back disappear with one last wave of his tail. Guaranteed to pump a little blood too.

That made it a good day, but as the day went on I still couldn’t shake the thought, why? Why would I invest so much time, money, and effort, and deal with the frustration and discomfort of a solo trip through a remote and dangerous territory? That led me to wondering if anyone else who does this ever thinks about why? Realizing there is a group of similarly demented characters ripe for the polling… I thought I would put it to Small Craft Advisor readers!

We could easily get lost in the layers this question begs to peel, so I’ll keep my answers short, but maybe others might chime in on what drives them to, for example, take a paddle board to Alaska in an R2AK event or, like Andrew and Kevin (recently of Bishop Bay Hot Springs) paddle the full length of the Inside Passage in kayaks loaded to only inches above the water, camping wherever they can find a spot dry enough to pitch a tent, or not.

This is what I came up with today but it surely deserves more thought:

First there is the “self.” Some, like me, tend to test themselves—whether it be in business, on the tennis court—in all their activities. This particular trip allows me to face some realities new to me. I’m 71 years old now. Will I have the personal battery to sustain months of plodding along against the significant challenges of weather, distance, conditions, and effort? Will I have the physical strength for standing behind (often wrestling with) the helm to fight off the breaking waves and wind surging from multiple directions, unexpected currents, and the 5-10 hours demanded, before having to hoist the tender onto the cabintop? Will there be enough left in the tank to get the boat squared away, securely and safely attached to the bottom? Enough to get myself fed and cleaned, the next day’s plan prepared, and the boat made ready for tomorrow’s adventure? Will I have the mental acuity and endurance to manage the decisions and to handle the problems? Can I keep mustering the focus the weather, sea, and the “unexpected” demand? And then get up and do it again for a matter of months? There are questions about the self that, for some of us, need to be answered.

Second there are the “others.” While it seems counterintuitive to think such a long solo trip is about relationships, peel a few layers and it is clearly so. Consider a spouse who, more than anyone else, understands your need and encourages you to reach for your goals. Would they feel differently about you if you decided to ignore this desire? And, more likely than not, your spouse would value greatly the opportunity to spend a couple of months on their own—perhaps to pursue their own questions of “self”… or just to take a vacation from you! What is it they say about absence?

There are relationships with other generations to consider as well. Setting the example that life continues on past “retirement” is an important message for your children to receive, if only to encourage them to develop lots of interests (and save lots of money!) Grandkid relationships? How do you measure the value of “Papo” being a vital living force that goes off on crazy trips to magic places? In the grand scheme, time is short to impact and inspire such young minds, to help widen their boundaries and encourage them to imagine all they can be. Soon it will just be the stories remembered, so better make some stories now.

As for friends, back home we’re friends because we share common interests, but we are all so much deeper and more complicated than a soft angled drop-shot on the tennis court, or a short game that sometimes shows itself on the links. These adventures can help broaden your buddies’ understanding of who you are and what you need, and the time away alone helps you reflect on their valued role in your life. Finally, but not lastly, the friendships started or continued on such a trip can last the rest of your life. I rely on and trust my buddy boater, Bob, every day as we watch out for one another, and I plan to introduce my wife Linda to Andrew, the Kayaker (mentioned above), and his wife in Switzerland where he has lived for two decades now.

Any answer to “why?” must include the positive effects it has on the “others”—the important relationships in your life.

Less personal, but no less important—there is also the connection to Mother Earth to consider. How important to just discover and experience places like the Inside Passage? The sheer beauty and complexity of these coves, islands, waterways and mountains lay the foundation for what our planet can be… and what is at risk. Interacting with our mammalian brethren, admiring the strength and agility of the raptors flying so incredibly high, and just knowing the little fish breaking the surface beside you are part of a food chain that descends thousands of feet, connects us, and reminds us we really are a part of it. It’s my sincerest hope that adventurers, wherever they explore, respond to the “why?” question by answering it more with “so we know what we need to get back to” rather than with something like, “to see it before it’s gone.”

Why? Because it’s good for the spirit. While I’ve never been a religious man I do consider myself spiritually based. My quest to understand the science behind events, and how things came to be, does not preclude my feelings of joy at how it can all work in such harmony. Working hard at overcoming obstacles is just paying dues for riding an eddy 20-yards off a cliff face in 400 feet of water, watching an Orca bound down a strait faster than your boat can go, or laughing at Pacific White-Sided Dolphins buzzing your bow, playing tag with your dinghy, and tilting to look at you eye-to-eye, are exceptional rewards for months of planning, preparation and labor. Watching a mother bear flick boulders aside on an exposed beach to show her cubs how the crabs underneath make for an easy meal, easily offsets the cuts, bruises and sore muscles the journey produces. Even witnessing two squalls come from different directions to merge as one before moving off, leaving only the colors of a rainbow in their wake—all of these events make the spirit soar, and all are answers to the question “Why?”

John Hughes—MV Tuffy 6/2/24 •SCA•