By Lucy Graham and
Mathilde Gordon

We sat in our lounge room in Australia staring down at the 45 marine charts that showed our 2,042 kilometre kayak expedition through the Inside Passage and it was hard to even imagine what was in store for us. The journey would take us from Glacier Bay, north west of Juneau, through the island passages of south east Alaska and British Columbia, to Vancouver Island.

Glacier Bay to Vancouver Island… paddling the Inside Passage

Only books and words from other kayakers could help us imagine what awaited us. From the moment we dipped our paddles into the icy waters of Glacier Bay, Alaska, we were challenged, awed and inspired. The expedition was everything we wanted, and more than we bargained for.

When you tell people that you are planning to kayak over 2,000 kilometres through freezing water, in bear country and in some of the most wild and remote places, many people ask why; but Mathilde didn’t.

“In 2016 when I asked Mathilde if she would paddle the 2,000km through the Inside Passage with me, she didn’t ask why, she just said, ‘Yes…do you think I can do it?… YES’ I said.”
Lucy

We always answer the question, “Why?” with “because we can.” That is the spirit of adventure, throwing yourself into challenge and beauty purely because you can. Not because you know you can succeed, or you know what it is that you will face, but because you know you can plan, and research and give it your best shot! We weren’t the first to do this trip, we weren’t the youngest or the oldest, or any of those things, but this would be a challenge like we had never faced before.
“Before Lucy asked me to do this expedition, I had only done day trips in a kayak, but I enjoyed it and I knew there was going to be incredible wildlife, so I was in.”
Mathilde

“I have been kayak guiding from the age of 18, but the longest trip I ever did was seven days, in the tropics, so this expedition was going to be the biggest challenge I took on.”
Lucy

Single-use plastic-free

We met at James Cook University, when we both signed up to the student sustainability club. We ended up leading this group together for a large period of our studies. Our friendship grew as we studied, campaigned and adventured together. Both of us are passionate about ocean conservation and have been campaigning about the issue of marine debris for over five years. About three years ago, we decided to give up single-use plastic in our lives.

Being single-use-plastic-free is a constantly evolving journey, and when we started planning this trip we decided we wanted to transfer our lessons learned in everyday life to our adventure, and complete the expedition without using single-use plastic. It was easy enough to have plastic-free toiletries, but the biggest challenge we faced was with our food. We trialled systems on small trips at home and came up with a way to make it possible. It involved dehydrating our meals and wrapping them in three layers of newspaper, then placing them in dry bags with upcycled silica gel packs (from any outdoor store).

It worked in the humid tropics of Queensland, Australia, and we were sure it would work on the cold and wet west coast too. Thankfully, we had the Lupii Cafe whom sponsor us and prepare, cook and dehydrate the 500+ meals we needed for our three-month expedition!

Apart from the mission of completing our journey single-use-plastic-free, we saw the expedition as an opportunity to raise awareness about marine debris and to raise funds for organisations working to reduce its impact. Having now completed our expedition, we are excited to let everyone know that we have raised more than $20,000 to be shared between The Living Oceans Society in Canada and The Tangaroa Blue Foundation in Australia. Both of these organisations do important work: cleaning up beaches, collecting data, tracing debris and stopping it at its source.

Alongside the money we have raised, we have run several community workshops, delivered two public talks en route and another workshop on Hornby Island at the Young Women in Ocean Literacy, Marine Conservation and Leadership Camp. We have also run three beach cleanups – two in Australia and one in Canada, and contributed to a remote Living Oceans Society cleanup on Vancouver Island during our trip.

So as you can see, the answer to the question ‘why?’ evolved as we planned. ‘Why?’ became, ‘because we can, because we care and because the ocean needs us – not just Mathilde and I, but every one of us.’

Beginning

Once we were immersed in the Inside Passage, next to the people who live in or travel through these parts, not one person asked why. After an eternity of planning, the moment when we finally started our trip somehow seemed to come suddenly. We set off into Glacier Bay on the 8th of May, with the sun in the sky, adventure in our hearts and the completely unrelated, yet beautiful, sound of drumming and singing coming from the long house of the Huna Tlingit First Nations in Bartlett Cove. It was a heart-warming beginning to our journey.

Ups and downs

Kayaking into a place that you have only ever read about is both exciting and intimidating at the same time. People told us of the unforgiving water in Alaska, the dangerous experiences of everyday boaters crossing the north and south of Haida Gwaii at Dixon Entrance and Cape Caution, and the dangers of the tidal rapids at Dent Island and Yaculta. Looking at the charts, studying major crossings and understanding the currents of the Inside Passage took up hours of our time in preparation for the expedition.

We really threw ourselves in the deep end by starting in Glacier Bay. Thankfully, we had sunshine for the first three days, which made the adjustment easier. We were advised by the rangers to avoid campsites with signs of bears, however, the first night we realised it wasn’t actually possible in this part of the world. We settled for sites with the least evidence of bear activity and practiced our bear safe camping. We were overwhelmed by our surroundings. Snow capped mountains rose steeply from islands towering over us in every direction. Glaciers cracked in the distance, and filled the valleys we paddled passed.

The tranquil silence was pierced only by the sound of our paddle strokes and the incredible wildlife that filled every gap and corner. We were entertained by birds, sea otters, seals, sea lions, porpoise and an unbelievable number of whales. We were also adjusting to the challenges of carrying our kayaks and gear over rocky and barnacled intertidal zones, avoiding the biting cold of the water and the wind, and getting accustomed to pooping in the intertidal zone! During those first few weeks, we had moments of pure exhilaration as we watched whales play and birds fly, but also moments where we silently wondered if we were going to make it through the three months of our expedition.

The Inside Passage challenged us and rewarded us in an equal measure; our experiences peaking and plummeting like a rollercoaster. After one week we made it back to Juneau from Glacier Bay and we needed to do some kayak repairs, pick up kevlar bear bags (we had a horrible time trying to fit bear cans in our kayaks) and get a sturdy supply of chocolate. In Juneau and throughout our entire trip, we have felt humbled by the kindness and open hearts of people along the Inside Passage. Thanks to some amazing locals, we had a place to stay in Juneau where we could rest, eat some non-dehydrated food, and repair our kayaks.

bad weather and wind

In the weeks following Juneau, we faced a lot of bad weather and wind. By the time we reached Petersburg we had been delayed by seven days. Three of those days were spent in our tent, where the winds were gusting between 30 and 40 knots and just listening to the pines creaking and yawning in the wind above our tent was scary enough. It was a great test of our decision making, as we interpreted the weather around us and assessed whether it was safe to carry on.

Although we had radios to receive weather forecasts, having a GARMIN InReach also meant we could get some help from our support team through unlimited messaging. The ability to laugh in the face of challenge and smile in the midst of chaos is really necessary during those hard times. Most of the success of our trip was knowing when conditions were beyond our abilities and staying out of harm’s way.

It was a sunny day when we finally paddled into Petersburg amongst icebergs, which had broken off the LaConte Glacier. After several days of continuous rain and battering wind, we diverged from our plan and stayed in Petersburg to shower, dry off and feel human again. It was a great break.

Following Petersburg, we were on a roll. We picked the tides through the Wrangell Narrows perfectly and were carried along by the strong currents. We soon found ourselves in Wrangell, enjoying the hospitality of Kem and Sue, a local pastor and his wife, who had agreed to look after our resupply until our arrival. Having prepared all of our food prior to the trip and sending supplies to meet us en route, we depended on complete strangers, who volunteered over the internet, to look after our resupply boxes.

It was truly amazing to meet the people who held our resupplies, and to have the opportunity to understand more about life in the Inside Passage. Meeting Kem was not an exception; he met us at the docks, put us up in a local hotel and invited us to a community potluck to share our story. Originally, we thought we would try to avoid the towns and cities to be continuously immersed in nature, but the people of SE Alaska and British Columbia stole our hearts, and visiting towns became a highlight too.

strengthened friendship

There were still many challenges to come on our route. Both of us had days where it felt really hard. When you embark on a journey like this with a friend, you can’t help but wonder whether it will strain your friendship or not. We are so happy that our journey strengthened ours. We have both admitted that there were moments of frustration, but in these cases we knew it was mostly attributed to the weather conditions, tiredness, or hunger. It was important not to voice those frustrations during tense moments as we only had each other and knew that it wouldn’t help the situation.

Another seemingly small thing that happened naturally, but is something we realised is so important, is thankfulness. Everytime someone cooked, made tea, set up the tent, treated the water or completed any everyday task, we thanked each other. Throughout the 89 days of our trip, having those small efforts recognised made a big difference in the long run. So that is a tip if you are planning your own expedition – never forget to appreciate those small gifts from your buddy!

Wildlife

Wildlife was of course one of our major highlights. We saw so many humpback whales and were even lucky enough to see a small group of them bubble-net feeding – a behaviour that is unique to this part of the world. Another day we had a whale follow us along our route for a couple of hours, surfacing only metres away from our kayaks. We had playful sea lions surging and circling our kayaks, both a scary and exhilarating experience. We saw sea otters sleeping and playing together, and by the shore we watched river otters, minks and weasels. Harbour seals – the puppies of the ocean – stayed with us for our whole journey, and along the coast of British Columbia we were lucky enough to see a number of mothers with their pups.

We were constantly entertained by the bird life that soared above and dove below the surface of the water, feeding amongst the abundance of fish. We gained even more appreciation for the creatures of the intertidal zone when we were invited to the Vancouver Island University Deep Bay Research Centre.

Scary times

Along with the moments of pure joy, there were experiences that weren’t so fun. For Lucy, it was getting pulled into an uncharted whirlpool and momentarily losing control of her kayak. Thankfully, with adrenalin and instinct, she came away safely, if not a little shaken. For Mathilde, nothing on the trip made her more scared than when a tugboat steamed towards us on autopilot, at an unforgiving speed, passing by only 15-20 metres behind us as we paddled hard to avoid it. We will also never forget our first night in Canada, where the tide came in under our tent at midnight, forcing us to wade across a river and climb the embankment to sleep on a lump of moss in the forest.

However, Mother Nature was looking after us when it came to facing our major milestones on the trip. We had a perfectly clear day crossing Stephens Passage, where the tides are strong and the cruise ships steam past. When we crossed both Dixon entrance and Cape Caution, it was so calm we could have done headstands in our boats. Our final challenges were the Dent and Yaculta Rapids. Timing was crucial at these rapids, as it is only possible to pass at slack, even for motor boats! However, we were happy to have clear days and well-timed crossings as we passed through these as well. Each of these milestones had been on our minds for more than a year, and we celebrated every time we passed safely, for even with great weather, they were major achievements for us.

Marine debris

Apart from our first week in Glacier Bay, we saw marine debris at every single beach we camped at and on many of the shores we passed. We had expected to find less marine debris than we did, as we thought it would not have been pushed into the protected waters of the Inside Passage and instead would be collected on the west coast of the islands. The unfortunate reality is that much of the debris we were finding was from local towns and the large majority of trash was related to recreational and commercial fishery activities.

This included fishing and mooring buoys, ghost nets, ropes, fishing line, strapping band, tags and motor oil.In addition, we found the usual culprits; plastic bottles, soft and hard plastic remnants and household items. Some bottles had floated all the way from Asia, and were the same brands we find on our beaches back home. A great reminder that our oceans are all interconnected. We were blown away by the amount of styrofoam littering the shores, some pieces as large as trees and others smaller than a peanut.

Finishing it all

Kayaking into Cadboro Bay in Victoria, 2,042km south of where we started three months prior, was a mix of emotions for both of us. We were both happy and sad to finish our expedition and couldn’t believe it was already over. We were met with great enthusiasm by a group of friends and family at the finish line, who had also convinced 100 or so beachgoers to cheer us onto the beach! It was a humbling end to an incredible journey.

Now it’s time to continue with the next chapter of our lives, but our minds and hearts are already filled with the dreams of another adventure on the horizon.