By Dennis Arp, travel contributor for Veterinary Practice News
And on the fifth day in God’s Pocket, we rested. But just long enough to add a big hairy legend to our already rich Canadian adventure.
Our intrepid group of 10 was hiking in the misty rainforest of Hurst Island, in British Columbia’s God’s Pocket Provincial Marine Park, which in less than a week had come to feel like the perfect home base for outdoor exploration. On previous days, we had kayaked with porpoises, otters and whales, combed shorelines rich with native history and watched bald eagles tumble through the sky in their mating embrace.
Now, sitting cross-legged in eerie sunlight filtered by the dense canopy of fir and pine tree branches, the plot thickened.
Serina, one of our two guides from Sea Kayak Adventures, the outdoor company that had organized our six-day trip, shared stories of how for years sailors plying these waters had shunned the east side of Hurst Island for fear of encountering “a wild, hairy man.”
Later, a little research revealed this excerpt from “Cruising Beyond Desolation Sound,” John Chappell’s book on sailing the Northwest: “Strong evidence points to the existence of a Sasquatch family on the island. … Indian residents of nearby Balaklava Island have had similar experiences and now refuse to go to (Meeson Cove or Harlequin Bay).”
So of course we had to go looking for evidence.
Alas, we didn’t find any footprints or other indications of a Sasquatch; the only furry creature around was a chocolate Lab named Lewis. But we still enjoyed entertaining the notion that of all the wild places in all the world, God’s Pocket might be where a Sasquatch had chosen to settle down and raise a family.
During the hike back to the God’s Pocket Resort, I couldn’t help thinking: Boy, did that Sasquatch pick the wrong side of the island to call home. Waiting for us on the island’s western shore were hot showers, wine and hors d’oeuvres. Now this is the way to spend a week in the wild.
Many of the guide-led trips offered by Sea Kayak Adventures feature tent camping in British Columbia or along the coast of Baja California – which, of course, is a great way to sample all that a place of natural wonders has to offer. But there’s also something to be said for a daily adventure that ends with a gourmet meal and the warmth of a comfortable bed.
Hence, the allure of the God’s Pocket trip, which combines daily guided trips to the islands and along the shorelines of B.C. with the comfort of evenings at the God’s Pocket Resort owned and operated by Bill Weeks and Annie Ceschi.
It was Bill and our two guides, Serina and Ellie, who greeted us at the outset of our adventure, on the boat dock in Port Hardy, at the northern tip of Vancouver Island. There were eight of us signed up for the trip, and we quickly got acquainted during the 20-minute ride on Bill’s water taxi and scuba dive boat to God’s Pocket.
The seven others on the trip included two physicians, a college professor, a research physicist and a hotelier, with the group ranging in age from mid-30s to early-70s. All of us had sea kayaked before, but for several this would be the first multi-day experience, and the 70-year-old worried about keeping up. However, as the week progressed, we learned to trust the efficiencies of tandem kayaks as well as the good planning and good pairing of our attentive guides. Ultimately, we all seemed to get the level of outdoor adventure we sought.
As soon as the cabins of God’s Pocket came into view, we knew this would be a special week. Tucked snug against a hillside and into a sheltered cove, the resort projects a homey charm that became more evident once we unloaded our gear and assembled around the fire ring built into the long deck that connects a row of wood-paneled rooms.
After meeting the only other permanent residents of the island – Annie, our chef Shona and the exuberantly affectionate Lewis – we took a quick tour of the lodge. The cabins are comfortable, cozy, devoid of ostentation – perfect for a place that exudes a wilderness feel. The isolation of God’s Pocket remains its most enticing feature. Often the only sounds to be heard are the calls of eagles and ravens overhead and the Pacific lapping at the pilings below.
Our breakfasts and dinners were served family style in a dining room just below Bill and Annie’s quarters, as we planned the day’s excursion in the morning and then deconstructed it later that evening. The food was never short of outstanding, emphasizing local favorites such as salmon and halibut as well as desserts such as lemon cake with fresh strawberries and pecan pie.
The only other guests we saw during the week were a pair of scuba enthusiasts from England who had come to dive in nearby Browning Pass, an area known for offering some of the best cold-water diving in the world. All of our exploring would be at surface level, but we felt as if our experience was just as deep.
Our pattern was to paddle several hours in the morning, enjoying the scenery and each other’s company en route to a secluded spot, at which we would nosh on a lunch prepared by Shona and packed by Ellie and Serina. One of the joys of lodge-based exploring is not having to pack and unpack loads of camping gear each day. After lunch, we would paddle home in our sleek fiberglass boats, stopping to see petroglyphs or natural wonders along the way and arriving just in time for wine and cheese around the hot tub each evening.
Our day trips yielded many highlights. One morning we paddled through waters teeming with moon jellies, whose fluid movements seemed choreographed to unheard music. On another, a pocket of fog accentuated the playful streak in an otter, who popped up where we least expected, clearly winning a game of aquatic hide and seek.
And always there were the bald eagles, soaring majestically in numbers none of us had expected. During an afternoon paddle, we reached 67 before giving up on our quest to count all that we saw. It felt like they were our constant aerial companions, eager to join us on each of our journeys.
By the time departure day arrived, we decided the only thing our adventure lacked was the ultimate hair-raising tale – an encounter that would have taken a bigfoot and family from myth to reality. No matter. We had dipped a paddle into the wild Northwest and enjoyed more than a few flavorful moments and mysteries.
Besides, who knows how a Sasquatch might react when he finds out there’s wine and a hot tub on the other side of the island.
In the end, maybe some things should remain hidden in God’s Pocket.