One of the many great things about kayak camping trips is the stories and friendship that always seems to develop. I still remember stories from my first trips and they rarely fail to bring a chuckle to my lips. That being said it's nearly imposable to truly share these experiences with people who were not there. Its just one of those things, you have to be there to truly appreciate the experience. The 2005 Santa Cruz Prez Day Trip is no exception to the rule.
About a week before the trip there inklings in the news that weather might be an issue. However the weather in Orange County was clear and I was hoping the sunny skies would continue. On the Thursday before our Friday departure it was pretty clear in OC but apparently the weather experts were sure bad weather was coming. They were also starting to convince many of the trip participants because my e-mail box started filling up with "thanks but no thanks" messages. I was really looking forward to this trip and determined to make all efforts reasonably possible to go. So I decided no mater what the weather I was going to drive down to the Ventura docks Fri and see first hand what Island Packers was doing, if they went to the Island I would go.
The early morning Friday drive to Ventura proved to be very wet and I was starting to think there would be no trip. During the course of the morning Island packers canceled and un-canceled the trip several times, but eventually they can through and Brian Lopez, Victor "Paparazzi" Martin, Steve "Hullcraker" Wilson and I were on Island Packer boat heading to Santa Cruz. The rain had given way to sun, the seas were calm and there were only a 4 other campers on the boat with us. This was shaping up to be a great weekend.
Once landed we gathered our stuff and made our way to the upper campground. There were several small streams in the campground and the dry riverbed that runs next to the camp was now a very impressive river. Still the same we were happy to be there and quickly found suitable spots to pitch tents
Friday night proved to be a stormy one. There were winds, thunder and lightning and according to the rangers about 2 inches of rain. All the tents held up and we were all dry despite the conditions.
By launch time Saturday morn. The skies had cleared and we had a beautiful day for paddling. There were occasional rain showers, but mostly it was smooth seas with sunny skies. We headed toward Potato harbor and started exploring the numerous caves and coves in the area. The seas were smooth but occasional big sets make it necessary to keep an eye on things prior to entering caves. Victor and I opted for site seeing the coastline, which was green with all the recent rain. Victor earned his nickname of paparazzi with his many pictures; I believe he will have them posted shortly.
Steve did a lot of caving and had only one incident. A cave named surging T is named such because 3 entrances form a t shaped cave. Steve was paddling through when breaking wave came through and nailed him. Luckily he braced into the wave but the wave was big enough to implode his spray skirt and disoriented him enough so that his normally reliable roll failed him and he did a wet exit. Steve quickly swam back to mouth of the cave where Victor did a nice "t rescue". The rest of the trip to Potato harbor was uneventful.
Upon arriving at Potato we were treated to 3 newly developed waterfalls cascading from the surrounding cliffs. The weather was perfect for a prolonged break and we all soaked up the sun for a few hours before heading back.
The main carnage of the trip happened on the way back at a cave called "Sea Stack". Basically it's a very small island, or a large rock, with a cave the runs through the middle of it, I would estimate the cave at about 50 yards. Steve and Victor went through a couple of times with out much turbulence. However during one of the runs according to Steve all @## broke lose and he ended up capsized and out of the boat. I'm sure Steve will tell the exact story later. No one else was in the cave at the time and when we noticed Steve did exit timely we split up and started paddling around looking for him. I was the one who found him drifting by a small side crack in the cave out of his boat and tying to get his paddle.
I convinced Steve to forget about the paddle for the moment and he was quickly in his boat. Since Steve didn't have a paddle and I didn't want to retrieve the other paddle before Steve had a way of bracing we decided to get his spare Nigel Foster of his rear deck. That's when we discovered the only real casualty of the trip. Somehow Steve spare paddle was busted up in the cave. I gave Steve my spare and we retrieve his ordinal paddle before joining back up with Brian and Victor.
Upon our return to the Scorpion the ranger told use the weather was expected to worsen and we were being kicked off the Island Sunday. We enjoyed an uneventful Saturday night and Sunday morning before returning to Ventura at 2 pm.
All in all it was a decent trip and I was glad I decided to risk the weather.
The decision was made Thursday night by emails with Dave and Duane. Despite the impending storm, it was "a Go". One obstacle to hurdle was the 5:30 AM phone-in report posted by Island Packers. Friday morning, 5:30, I called and the report was that I.P. was running their boats. I'm gone, on the road, PCH, wet, hitting rocks in the dark: An adventure in itself.
I pull off 101 into Von's to get the last item needed, ice. My cell phone rings. It's Duane. I tell him I'm there at Von's, 5 minutes away from I.P. He says, "the trip is canceled". I now feel foolish. Thinking back at the 5:30 call-in report. I know what it said. I called back and it is a different report now: CANCELED.
I can't believe it. I drive to I.P. so I know where it is for the future. I see kayaks,(yes). It's Dave and Steve. They just showed up- no call in. Island Packers was closed and it didn't look good. So, I took shots to record "the trip that never was" for the trip report.
The waves were large, Hawaiian-like, very powerful, walled-up and beautiful. On the way back up from the beach, I saw Brian..YES!. We all take a walk to get some breakfast. Everything is closed. The signs stated, "THE STORM" . Steve and Dave split to Carrows to eat. Brian and I check out the beach and the waves. Brian's all for going, no matter what the conditions. I agree.
Now the call-in reports an 11AM run out to pick-up (evacuate) people. We see the I.P. girls pull up. YES! They check it out, it's a "go". They'll take us out.
We both drive to Carrows and deliver the news to Dave and Steve who have now shifted to other plans for the day. We all come to the same decision, "Let's go for it!" At this point, there has been no rain for hours and we are all hope-filled. I call Duane. He's pissed. No time to get there, and make the only boat trip out....next time.
The boat is all ours, like a charter, five other people, two girls two guys and Mr. Ranger. As we approach the island the clouds opened up to a blue sky and it looked like Ireland, green rolling hills, like a big golf course. And, it was all ours too. The first camp site was flooded out and we had to hike a bit further than we expected, about a mile into the valley.
The paths were rivers and the island was saturated with all the storm had released earlier. It was green everywhere, and where it wasn't, it was running water, like a golf course with lots of water hazards. It was alive and growing wild, untouched and sacred. We raced the storm and down-pours to get our campsites set up and settle in for the night, which, as the rangers stated, was going to be hellish. They could not understand why we wanted to be out there. Rain came, roads and paths were washed away and became rivers. We all managed to stay dry and comfortable even though 2 1/2 inches, on top of what the Island had received was dumped on us. We were awoken to sun shining and birds chirping. Even a wild pig was going about his business.
Dave's report back from the beach was a high tide and time enough to get some breakfast and get ready for some rock-gardening and cave dwelling.
Paddling out around the first point, I can see and feel that this was an incredible place. Caves and arches everywhere, a giant playground for kayakers, alive and changing every minute. The elements changed through out the days paddle from sun to rain, to calm seas, to moving currents and swells. Spouts shooting out loud powerful explosions of water, Caves filled with nature's fog, as waves crashed deep within them... JUST MAGNIFICENTLY AWESOME !
Combat rolls and recoveries occurred. Some were hairy and we covered each other's back well. We landed at Potato Harbor for lunch and to take in the beauty of three waterfalls and it's serenity. On the way back Steve and I went looking for a cave that Duane had spoke of, that went all the way through a large rock formation. Steve felt that he had found it and ventured in with me watching for swells that come out of nowhere. It looked good as he rounded the bend and called out, "This is it." I followed in behind him. Steve's helmet was lit with glow sticks and a head light. I was not. As he continued further in, it became closed off to the width of a kayak. At this point, I can't hear him or anything but the roar of the cave. Then, the lights go out, Darkness. Steve had made it through the tight corridor which turned him, leaving me in the dark. I paddled with no avail, I hit rock. Now, the surge and the conditions have changed and my paddle is vertically stuck. The surge back out is like a huge plunging toilet and sucks me free, backward into the darkness of this, now, what seemed to me, an awoken angry monster cave. I paddled backwards with everything I got, but the swells kept coming creating chaos and confusion. I see a small opening of light, and Brian paddles by and I yell as he passes. Then Dave paddles by, I yell again. Thinking they can't hear me,because it's now hydraulic surging and very loud. I keep paddling backwards out and now can see the whole opening of the cave where Dave and Brian are. I'm feeling better about my situation, but, not Steve's. I told Dave and Brian the situation and continued to yell out to Steve. This proved to be useless. Dave paddled to the other side to see if Steve had made it out (where, no one knew). Brian and I went around the other side..nothing. I had a bad feeling. It had been a long time now, and nothing, no boat, paddle or Steve. Brian and I paddled back to the opening of the cave. The swells and surges had worsened and I feared the worst. So, I went back in. I got back to where it turns and that was it. The hydraulic surge was about 3 1/2 to 4 feet and would suck me down along cave walls and under. As the surge came back up, I would hit the overhang of the wall and turn over, capsizing me. I combat rolled back up, and with all my might paddled backwards, surfing the tidal surge out to the mouth of the cave. Knowing going into the cave with a kayak was not going to work, Brian was ready to swim in. It was the only thing left to try. But first, Brian paddled to see what Dave had to report. I stayed at the cave, yelling and listening, but...nothing. It had been way to long, So. I paddled around the other side and heard Brian yell, "he's out." The rescue on the other side I will let Steve or Dave report. All I know is I was very relieved that Steve was out and that I could see all three of them. Steve was physically shaken as well as signs of carnage and a broken Nigel Foster paddle. (What's up with these paddles?) I documented the relief and carnage. We all paddled back with a new out-look on life. Steve said he is now retired as a kayaking cave-dweller.
It was great walking back to our campsite (home), listening to the warrior stories of the days events. Then, Mr. Ranger: The report was that we were to be evacuated from the island Sunday, if the boat could get out there. We were on hold till the morning 9AM report. We all went to our camp where we told stories, ate, drank, and laughed till dark set in. (Kudos to Dave's baked cinnamon rolls)
Next morning, report: Evacuation, 4PM. Break down camp, hike out before "The river flows through". Steve and Brian go hiking, Dave kicks back on the beach and I go kayaking in Scorpion Cove one more time before we're evacuated off the island. My launch was humorous. I tried frontwards, got turned around. So, I continued to launch backwards, only to be flipped over. I combat rolled up in the middle of a wave, only to see that I was in the tube...SLAM..rocks and sand. I combat rolled up and I now pointed frontwards, out I go to a sea I never felt before. It was very confused, and passed the rock out at the arch, 6 plus foot swells running fast . This was a storm and I thought twice about being out alone, currents and wind made it difficult and unpredictable. I decided to come back in.
The boat arrived two hours early, giving us a fifteen minute warning to evacuate. The boat had a little trouble trying to dock at the pier. So, we would load up the gear and they would pull out and anchor so they could store it, and so forth. It was a process. The boat ride proved to be an adventure and answered every question I had on "Why we had to be evacuated off the island". The seas were angry and the boat was tossed about at times. The swells were fast and big, throwing ocean spray everywhere. a little rough, but we made it back in one piece. There are more stories, like my flame throwing whisper light stove. Cooking at my table proved to be entertaining....but, this is turning into a novel, so...I'll just let the other guys fill in or add on to the trip report.
This proved to be a great time and lesson in "Just Showing Up" and the rest follows.
Check out the trip pics www.vicspics.smugmug.com. Hopefully, they will fill in the spaces.
One note: A photographer on the trip was in such a hurry to get out of there before the next storm hit on the mainland, he left all his camera gear, thousands of dollars worth. Being the last to leave, as usual, with my refrigerator and all my gear, I saw all this camera gear pilled up on the grass, and no one around, every body gone. So I put it in my car and headed home. I got a hold of I.P. and told them the story The guy called me and we are working on getting his gear to him. He lives way up north. All things work out and he sure is "One Happy Camper".
The weather was dynamic to say the least (sun, big white clouds, dark menacing skies, wind, thunder, lightening, and hard rain). It was a beautiful weekend. The rain always held back when we needed it to. Like for dinner, packing and unpacking. Mr. Ranger said we got close to 2 inches while we slept. Saturday morning we found ourselves sleeping in a marsh like island. Everyone picked a good high spot to pitch a tent. We all slept warm and dry. The Sun shown brightly as we walked down the road turned river to our boats.
Close Calls:
I came to play with helmet, gloves, and elbow pads. Back in December I injured my back and have only paddled twice for short distances. The back felt solid as we weaved through the rock gardens and in and out of several caves on the way to Potato Harbor. The sea was smooth to mildly choppy for the most part, except for the occasional massive set of waves. As we rounded one corner we got a perfect Hawaii Five-O side view of a set of beautiful seven footers. I was having a great time. Feeling my oats, I was playing in everything. Backing my boat off a flat rock seal landing back into the sea I nailed a quick combat roll between the rocks and the sets. That was my first roll since the holiday boat parade in December. Popparazzi Vic was taking my picture at the time and ended up doing his first combat roll of the day. I was getting a little too cocky. Not giving the sea it's proper respect.
At Surging T Cave I got nailed good. Half way through the cave one of those big sets of waves started in from the side opening. From one side approached a 6 foot solid wall of white water. On the other a solid wall of sharp rock. I braced into the wave and slammed squarely horizontally into the rock wall. Now I know why Jack has that implosion bar in his spray skirt. As I bounced up the wall upside down I executed a perfect roll through thin foamy air, no good. dropping down the wall as the sea drew out to supply the next monster I bailed and grabbed hold of Victors boat (he was right in position). Victor pulled me out to the side, Brian dumped the water out of my cockpit, Victor held my boat, and I jumped back in. We were on our way. That made me think about all the practices we do in CKF. What was potentially a dangerous situation was executed with precision by all in play. I braced the boat into position between myself and the rock wall. Gave up my rolling pride in the white water wash machine to find my paddle partners in position to execute a quit and safe rescue.
Mistake: I did not take the time to read the changing conditions. I told myself to keep that in mind for the rest of the day. These sets were not coming in often but they were big freight trains. Just before Potato Harbor Victor, Brian, And I played with an unruly small arch leading into Potato Harbor. It denied all of us entry until finally bouncing Victor upside down. He attempted to roll in the swirling water next to the rocks. Victor was just about up but with the current through the arch and rocks close at hand he bailed. I was close by and quickly drained his boat and he hoped back in effortlessly. On to Potato Harbor for some R&R.
On the way back from Potato Harbor things got a little out of hand. I had never had a serious rock garden/cave incident until now. Victor and I approached the outside (open water side) of the sea stack containing Sea Stack Cave. Sea Stack Cave is 400 feet long, with four passageways intersecting in the middle of the Cave. All passageways become too narrow to use a paddle for some distance. I took my time reading the sea behind me before entering. Having been through this cave in the past I was well aware of the danger to any Kayaker caught inside when the freight train waves come compressing through these narrow dark passages.
It looked good, the sea was quiet as I entered. Victor said he was following me. He was without a headlight or gloves and I yelled back to him not to follow me. He didn't hear me, I couldn't hear him. I paddled and pawed my way to the center intersection then out the other side of the sea stack. Victor continued part way in. He backed out at some point getting battered around some on his way out. I yelled back into the cave for Victor, not sure if he tried to follow me. I was afraid he might still be in there without a light. Mistake, I reentered the 400 foot long dark cave with no way of knowing that one of the big sets was just coming in from the open sea side of the sea stack.
200 feet into the cave I had just bumped passed the junction and headed into a dark narrow section when I met the wave train. My boat was lifted vertically. Crashing and twisting violently through the junction. I was shot down one of the other corridors upside down. I bailed out under the boat as it was being sucked back to the junction. I pulled my head and shoulders up into the cockpit for protection. In the slightly larger junction area I righted the boat. The next wave thundered in shooting me so far down one of the corridors I was 15 feet from being outside. Again it pulled me back through and down as the water was sucked in for the next wave.
Feeling like a helpless rag doll I new I just had to keep from being seriously injured, hang on to my boat and paddle until the sets died down. Next I was catapulted down another passageway that looked to narrow to get through. I went up under my boat, hung on , and made it though to the outside of the cave. Dave saw my upside down boat coming out of the cave. The big set had passed. I had finally lost my paddle at the entrance. Dave told me to leave the paddle and swim out. Dave quickly got me back in my boat. I reached for my backup paddle only to find it snapped into a three piece. Another Nigel Foster bites the dust. It was my son Cody's favorite paddle.
It was nasty to be tossed around like that in the dark. I should not have gone back into the sea stack and I should have been clearer in my communication with Victor before entering the cave. If I had not been wearing a helmet and protective gear it could have been bad.
I think I'm ready for "rock gardening light"
Steve "Cave Cured" Wilson