“If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put foundations under them.”
–Henry David Thoreau

This quote from Thoreau was the inspiration for the name of this site, though I adapted a more modest variation (admittedly driven by the availability of domain names at the time). The goal with this page was an attempt at documenting the actualization of various lofty dreams and adventures that I am extremely fortunate to experience.

It can take quite some time and effort developing this foundation. But sometimes, stupid carelessness, a bit of bad luck, and the relentless force of nature just not giving a flying fuck about your pathetic emotional needs, can pull the castle from your grasp and slip away.

I struggled quite a bit writing this, as I’m extremely hard on myself when it comes to what I perceive as my failures, which happens more than I care to admit. But in the end, I do believe that Mary and I heeded the words of “The Judge” well in this case, building a solid foundation under a lot of hard work, and we were able to experience an incredible (mis)adventure to the incredible Central Coast of BC.

The plan was to drive from our home in Whistler to the northern tip of Vancouver Island, where we would walk our kayaks onto the North Coast ferry, disembarking at Bella Bella. From there we would spend a week exploring the Hakai Conservancy at the northern section, building up strength and confidence to tackle the much longer, and less aesthetic, second half of the journey back to Port Hardy where we were parked.

We gave ourselves 2 weeks to paddle the roughly 150 miles/240kms, which was quite leisurely, and accounted for around 4-5 rest and exploration days. After only a week, we were cruising back to our starting point, on a significantly faster boat provided by the Canadian Coast Guard and, most likely, your tax dollars. We had somehow managed to miss securing the boats properly, and a full moon king tide decided to change our trip plans significantly, dragging our boats out sea in the night.

I was absolutely devastated by this mistake, with months of trip planning out the window. I’m trying once again to finish up this post and move on much later, in the dark hours of the dark month of January 2023, after a number of false starts. So now, years later, I’m forcing myself to write this as an acknowledgement to myself that it’s okay to take risks and make mistakes.

Besides one notable exception, the trip was still absolutely incredible. Perfect, isolated paddling around a remote BC coastline of the Hakai offering up incredible narrow channels, pristine sandy beaches, and abundant wildlife. By far the best paddling I’ve ever experienced, and I’m so excited to return some day.

On top of that, when we bade adieu to the friendly Coast Guard in Bella Bella/Shearwater, our adventure had not yet come to its conclusion. While drinking away sorrows on the marine pub patio in Bella Bella/Shearwater, a friendly captain of a sizable yacht heard our story and took pity on us, offering us a ride back to Port Hardy in style, and much better equipped than our floating body coffins we decided to gift to the Pacific. We then spent four days cruising around the inside passage, enjoying great food, terrific company, and elite level salmon fishing in some incredible spots. Likely more than we deserved!

On returning to Port Hardy and checking our messages, we learned that somehow, local Bella Bella Canadian Iconic author, Ian Mcalister, had found our boats! This was particularly fortunate, considering they were rentals, and I’d spent a good chunk of the previous days considering how best to approach this conversation with the rental agency.

“Gone?”

“Yes, gone.”

“How?”

“Well, you didn’t explain to us properly that they float when we’re not in them as well”

The wonderful Coast Guard was even going to get help bring them on the ferry back to Port Hardy, and we simply needed to wait another 5 days until they would be delivered back to us.

Not bad.

Feeling a minor amount of consolation, we decided to head to the west coast of Vancouver island and spent a few days camping at San Josef Bay, and finished by treating our damp souls to a few nights at a BnB near Port Hardy where non other than the legend John Cleese has made regular visits to.

When I look back on it, it’s ridiculous to think about how difficult and dark this time was for me, as the weight of failure pressed down hard. Waves of self-doubt were difficult to push away. Fortunately, I had the ever cheerful and supportive Mary with me, who was absolutely incredible the entire time.

“Autobiography,” George Orwell once wrote, “is only to be trusted when it reveals something disgraceful…since any life when viewed from the inside is simply a series of defeats.”

So with this in mind, I’ve kicked back up my Squarespace subscription, and will once again try to use this space to document my life in all it’s glory, as well as a few of its disgraceful defeats.

It’s time to lay some foundation under one castle that managed to drift away.

It has taken way too long to complete this, and I’ve definitely exhausted my ‘foundation’-related metaphors anyways, so I’m going to let the photos do the talking here for the trip. Looking back through these images, it really does elicit a deep feeling of gratitude; that I was able to experience this journey. To have looked back on this as a “failure” for so long seems misguided in hindsight, and in the subsequent years, my mental health has taken significant strides in the areas self-worth and gratitude, which felt like a downward spiral in many ways for a significant part of my adult years.

Maybe that can be a benefit of pushing things out beyond your limit, shaking you to your core, and triggering a period of growth.

Saying that, I still think 'I’ll aim to keep things safe and simple, and always tie up the damn boats…

We had a wonderful day of paddling on the journey out to the coast. A full day of 18km of class calm channels like these.

Moving on to faster boats…

It was a treat to spend a few days with the crew of Son Seeker. Captain Shawn was a recovering alcoholic and gambler turned born again Christian, who was returning from a trip to Haida Gwaii. His elderly father, pushing 90, was on board, and was quite hung over on our first day, as he was still a drinker, and had gotten deep into the wine on shore serenading the waitress when we last saw him. Jim was the father’s childhood friend, and was a born wild BC industry man, with endless stories and great cheer.

They all were incredibly kind and I’m extremely grateful for their hospitality, as it was exactly what we needed as a distraction for a few days.

One brief incident occurred when we motored over to check out a famous fishing spot, the Wall, at the mouth of Rivers Inlet. As Shawn was trying to get the tender ready for fishing, he left me in charge of manning the helm, which left me quite nervous. I watched the depth sounder as we drifted in the bay start to dip down… and down.

“10 metres…”

…

“7 metres Shawn…”

…

“5 metres Shawn!”

….

“3 METRES!!!!”

Shawn: “That can’t be right! We’re miles from shore!”

At that moment, the ship stopped its forward momentum and listed to the side slightly… I knew we we had run aground. Shawn didn’t believe me at first, but went into panic mode as soon as he noticed the list.

My first thought of course was that it would be the same kind folk from the Canadian coast guard that would come rescue us, and I wasn’t sure if I could handle it when they learned who was at the helm…

Fortunately, Shawn, was able to back off, and the boat didn’t sink, so I assume no significant damage was done…