Swimming to Protection Island
Posted Jul 11, 2007 @ 3:21 am, Viewed by 1056 Visitors, Read 501 Times.I've become accustomed to canoeing home from work in the evenings, to my place on Protection Island. I love it.
But I was annoyed at work today, because my canoe was back on the island without me (long story), so I was going to be riding the boring old ferry home instead of having my personal time with the ocean.
It was a hot day (32°C?), so it was easy to decide —once and for all— to swim home to Protection Island. I've always thought it would be cool to swim across the channel from the Yacht Club to Newcastle, and I think every capable Protection Island resident should consider swimming home at least once.
(Click on the image for the larger version)
I told everyone at work that I was going to do it, so that I couldn't psyche myself out later, when I would be standing in my ginch beside the crusty ocean. I'm SO glad I didn't wimp out, because it was a riot.
Crossing the first channel
I left work at 8:10pm so there would still be lots of light and warmth. I walked across downtown to Swy-a-Lana Lagoon, and across the Millstream Estuary onto the Queen Elizabeth Promenade — you know, where the rollerblading path is. It was a beautiful evening, with lots of people out walking.
I went out onto that little breakwater with the bench at the end, right beside the Nanaimo Yacht Club. A guy and two girls my age were sitting there. I picked my way down to the shoreline and stripped to my boxers, carefully packing my flip-flops, clothes, cellphone and mp3 player into a couple of garbage bags, and tied my package to a shoelace I stole from a pair of shoes at work (sorry, Reed). I tied a loop at the end. I was shivering with adrenaline and public exposure.
I jumped into the water, which was pretty warm, and bee-lined across a short stretch to a ramp leading onto the south dock of the Yacht Club. Soaking in my underwear and carrying a black plastic garbage bag, I ran between upscale pleasure craft to the end of the dock, imagining how figures in white might suddenly step out and scowl at me.
I sat on the end and got ready, avoiding a rusty nail and also noticing that it's jellyfish season now. There was some hip older guy in his sailboat, and he looked amused to see me. He just said, "I have to know." I think I laughed giddily.
He offered me a ride, but I explained that I wanted to be able to say I'd done it. He said he'd watch out for me as I crossed.
The channel between Nanaimo and Newcastle Island is narrow, but it's busy. There were no floatplanes, but a tug only missed me by about twenty seconds. I was lucky, because I had been delirious on the Yacht Club's dock, and hadn't actually looked at the traffic to time my crossing.
I must have looked so stupid, with my bald head bobbing along with that black plastic garbage bag.
As I neared the island, I noticed deer on the shore. I was able to drift in pretty close before the biggest one noticed me.
The sailboat village
Aware of a bunch of jellyfish stings on my sides, I hobbled barefoot along the barnacley sandstone to Mark Bay, a deep bay that cut me off from the part of Newcastle Island that's close to Protection Island. My original plan had been to run along the trail inside this bay, but the ocean was so inviting that I just got back in the water and bee-lined for my destination on Protection Island.
This was a long, strange journey between every kind of boat. The pictures I've included here and on my Swimming to Protection Island webpage were all taken (by satellites) when there were fewer boats in the harbour. Imagine that I was sunk to my neck in a huge gallery of hulls and sails, moving by me oh-so-slowly, with me trying to keep the thick taste of salt out of my head.
Some boaters smiled and some scowled. A young guy drove up from the docks in his zippy little inflatable, to make sure I was alright and to find out what the hell? I appreciated that he thought I was novel. I like attention.
A big yacht loomed toward me. I waved, and the driver (up top) waved back, and I was glad. I felt out-of-place and vulnerable, like a badger stopping traffic.
By the time I reached the shore at last, I felt like a god. I was singing The Who's "Pinball Wizard":
"That deaf dumb blind kid-
SHOA plays a mean pin-ball!"
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Social Bookmarking12 Responses to “Swimming to Protection Island”
Nicholas
You're such a trooper, Gerry. How long did it take you? And are you going to start doing it on a regular basis?
What an excellent story Gerry, thank you for sharing. I am blessed to have such a talented (And crazy) writer as my copy writing dept manager. rnrnI still remember the enthusiasm (No the lust) you had for the outdoors when we lived in Florence and toured around the Italian country side. I don't think there was a single tree you didn't try to climb or a single rock that you did not stand atop of surveying the landscape as if you were the lord of it all (Or awestruck) one of the two.
James Boyer
What a well written story. I read it because Morgan Pointed it out. In a few weeks I will be traveling back to Minnesota with my 9 year old son. I have been having thoughts of things that I did as a kid which I have not thought about in a long time. I have decided that my son and I will go and see and do a few of the things that I did as a child, such as visit Thomson Reservoir, and visit the cliffs that my childhood friends and I would jump from into the river, and see if the whirl pool that we created out of slate where a creek flowed down to the river, is still there. There will be many other things we check out as well. I have not been to many of these places in 12 or more years so it should be interesting and fun. rnrnKeep writing,rnrnJames Boyer of Morristown, New Jersey, USA
Paul Francis
Those satellite images make that swim look crazy! Morgan, you need to protect your talent with something in your employment contracts. I'm not familiar with the area but that swim does not look that safe... looks (and sounds) like a lot of fun though!
Sandi McLean
Gerry, what a well written story (and a great swim!). The rest of us can learn from your ability to grab life and run with it - talk about making lemonade out of life's lemons. Thanks for a bright spot today.
Eric Blackwell
Gerry;\r\n\r\na) That must have been an awesome experience.\r\nb) You have an unbeleiveable ability to share it with others through your writing.\r\n\r\nYou now have a reader...and a fan of your further adventures. I just bookmarked your blog.
Dad
And to think that as a child we had a hard time getting him in the bath tub! Your webpage suggests making the swim when the "tide isn't too low". Didn't you realize that the lower the tide, the less water surface area there is to swim across. (And by the way, the 'tide' doesn't get low, the 'water level' does. But that's another issue, you probably skipped school the day they were teaching that). \r\nI've heard stories about the things that you people smoke in Nanaimo. You should stop with that funny stuff and come on home before you get run over by a ketch.
Gerry Thomasen
Aw, dad! rnOf course I realize that a lower tide (sorry, a lower water level) means less distance over WATER. But have you ever picked your way across a rocky inter-tidal zone in your ginch? I'd rather swim a few extra meters and emerge at the high tide line.
Joe Lane
I had no doubt you'd make it across. Great article. Bald guys rock! 
Amazing!
Heidi Burns
Awesome! How long did it take you? Would you do it again?
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Torn between becoming a hermit or running for mayor, Gerry loves Vancouver Island and is willing to be annoying if that will keep it safe. Read More
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I want my shoelace back!rnrnI'm glad I could be a small part of your adventure. I've done a few long swims across lakes and whatnot, but that really sounds like fun!