Salish Sea Adventure – The Pleasant Isle

To be silent the whole day, see no newspaper, hear no radio, listen to no gossip, be thoroughly and completely lazy, thoroughly and completely indifferent to the fate of the world is the finest medicine a man can give himself. – Henry Miller

Jones Island Marine State Park is located in the San Juan Island group in the Salish Sea, in the margins of the Pacific Ocean in British Columbia and the US state of Washington. It’s a 188-acre marine camping park accessible only by water on the San Juan channel, and is considered to be among the most enchanting of the San Juan Islands. TR Captain Deb Volturno recently guided Steve King, his wife Melinda, and myself to this very sweet spot for a bit of camping and paddling. I’m calling it the Pleasant Isle because “Jones Island” is too mundane a name for such a magical place.

We approached the island from the southwest, heading for a rocky point dividing two small coves. Capt. Deb sent me in to investigate. After beaching the boat I walked up to the top of the point and was greeted by a scent from heaven, the warm caramel-and-butterscotch smell of sun on dry, golden grass. There was plenty of room to spread out, a pristine pit toilet stocked with paper, a fire ring, a picnic table, and drinking water from several spigots a short walk away on a wide meadow perfect for games and tai chi. Who could ask for anything more?

Flora

The island hosts many trees, shrubs, grasses, and wildflowers in several environmental niches. The next morning a hike around the island revealed Douglas fir, Garry oak, madrona, juniper, ocean spray, salal, and stone crop, to name a few. Penstemon, tiger lily, and camas mingled with native bunch grass along the trails.

On a later hike I walked across the island to the north harbor and encountered a marshy area of horsetails and mature forest: poplar, maple, willow and even an alder on the way back. There were a few benches strategically placed so one can sit in the green dusk and enjoy the stillness under the great trees. Inhaling deeply in the forest, or anywhere on the island, is balm to the lungs and the soul.

Since the island was once inhabited by settlers, the meadow held a small orchard of fruit trees: cherry, apple, and pear. Apples were just beginning to swell and if we’d been later in the year, we’d have been treated to some fresh fruit if the birds and deer didn’t get it first.

Fauna

Every morning a dawn chorus serenaded us as nesting birds greeted the day. Birdsong and the hum of bees accompanied every step along the trails. From a comfy spot on the point among the rocks I spent three days observing a pair of kingfishers feeding their newly hatched chicks. Kingfishers excavate burrows in sandy banks, usually near water. The burrows may be 3 to 6 feet deep, and this one was about 8 feet or so above the piles of driftwood at the back of the pebbly cove where we stashed our kayaks.

The adults would chitter and chatter with their mouths full, alerting the babies in the burrow that dinner was ready. Pretty soon a soft version of the adult call would be heard from the burrow and one of the adults would fly up, pop into the burrow and pop right out again, having delivered the meal. I imagined the tiny chicks huddled together at the back of the burrow, waiting for the parents’ call and then toddling to the mouth of the burrow to receive the bounty. So sweet.

White-crowned sparrows foraged and called all over the island, and we saw bald eagles, crows, turkey vultures, cormorants, gulls, and pigeon guillemots. Nuthatches were calling, and the downy woodpeckers that inhabit the San Juans were drumming in the woods, though we did not see them.

Columbia black-tailed deer also inhabit the island, and on the first hike I saw a spotted fawn dart across the trail. Moments later the doe appeared, and then another doe. The deer rest deep in the salal, rising up slowly and moving away when disturbed. At any given time there would be a number of them grazing in the grassy meadow above the larger of the two coves.

There were also raccoons, and it’s wise to bring bear canisters or hang your food and anything else you don’t want messed with when camping on the island.

After spending 2 days following Henry Miller’s advice quoted above, I soloed around the island in my kayak. That morning it was safe to launch around 10:00 and paddle clockwise, staying close to the rocks and cliffs where the current is weakest. Deb uses DeepZoom, an app that shows a map with currents, times, and direction. This tool, or something similar, is crucial to paddling the islands. Thanks to good planning it was a pleasant paddle of less than an hour. The highlight was looking down into about 4 feet of water and seeing the intelligent eyes of a small harbor seal looking mildly up at me. The same day breaching humpback whales were seen by others on the paddle to Roche Harbor.

Gear

Speaking of gear, Marty’s Bear Hang deserves a mention. This elegant little tool was invented by one of Deb’s paddling buddies, and she brought it for me to try. I’ll be making my own for the next trip. As you can see from the photos it’s a simple thing. One rope attaches to the pulley and ties to the tree of choice. Another rope runs through the pulley. One end runs through a sheaveless block which halves the load (so convenient) and attaches with a carabiner to the food bag. The other end is tied off on another branch of the tree. Genius!

Deb’s solar charger was also invaluable. Cell service is available on the island, so everyone who wished could keep in touch with the world. Since we were on the island for multiple days and Deb was connecting with other Surf Sirens preparing for the 2023 gathering it was great not to have to worry about running out of juice. Phones and radios are imperative safety gear as well. Don’t go without them.

Conditions

Because the Salish Sea can be particularly dynamic and unpredictable, the National Park Service discourages the use of any small, open boat other than a sea kayak when paddling between islands in the San Juans. To quote the NPS, paddling on the Salish Sea can be fun but also “extremely hazardous when weather conditions become unfavorable. Paddlers must know their equipment, know their limits, obtain a current weather forecast, and respect the ever-changing environment”.  We saw many paddlers in double and even triple sea kayaks, big strong touring boats with plenty of storage criss-crossing the water. These boats are ideal for paddling the San Juans and can be obtained from local outfitters.

The Salish Sea is sourced by the Fraser, Nisqually, Nooksack, Puyallup, Skagit, Snohomish, and Squamish Rivers, as well as the Pacific Ocean. The catchment area is about 42,000 square miles and the total surface area is about 6,900 square miles. It’s a big place. Paddling there is less like paddling the ocean and more like paddling a gigantic, sprawling river weaving through a bunch of islands, which is pretty much what it is. There are currents as well as tides, sometimes very strong, and rips, races, whirlpools, boils, and eddies, as well as “dancing water” where these features meet. The wind tends to move with the currents, making it more difficult to paddle against the grain. The water temperature is cold, so cold I bought a dry suit in order to be comfortable on this trip. Annual mean water temperature is around 50 degrees F, but it was in the forties while we were there.

And then there’s the wind. A southwest wind was forecast, and when we arrived the weather was fairly balmy. That changed. On the third afternoon the wind picked up and blew all night long at around 20 – 25 kts. Then, though the mornings stayed calm, the wind abruptly switched north. The temperature dropped. Tents were battened down and Deb ended up taking her fly down because it was getting bashed around. On our last night several boats motored in and anchored in the larger of the two coves to ride out the gale.

End notes

This little marine park is charming. A remarkable vibe of peace and rest pervades it. It smells good, looks good, sounds good, feels good, and it would probably taste good if the fruit on the trees in the meadow were ripe or we foraged for food in the sea. I don’t think I’ve ever camped in a place that felt so warm and loving, like nothing bad ever happened there. Cozying up to the warm rocks in the sun on the point I felt held by the earth in a unique way. The Salish Sea can be harsh as well as nurturing, but that’s just Mother Earth being Herself.

Although we left a day early due to conditions, we did everything we wanted to do. I got a nice long rest and thoroughly explored the island, and the others got to paddle to Orcas Island and to Roche Harbor on San Juan Island for restaurant food and cocktails.  It was a blessing to be there and we were lucky to have Capt. Deb to make it possible for us to have a safe journey. Thanks, Captain! You’re the best!

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