We awoke Tuesday morning, ready to make our push south and found the air had grown heavy. Looking out over the Strait of Juan de Fuca to the west, the skies had turned yellow and we could no longer see Lopez Island in the distance. The wildfire smoke was beginning to settle throughout the Salish Sea basin and within a few days, it would be dangerous for even healthy people to be outside. But we didn’t know that at the time, and thought of it as just a mild annoyance and something that was spoiling our view. We were more excited by the lack of wind and calm seas for a long day of paddling ahead of us.
Tucked in just behind Admiralty Head, Fort Casey would be our home for the night and would mark our exit from the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and our return to the populated waters of Puget Sound. Admiralty Inlet – the body of water between Admiralty Head and Point Wilson – is the official entrance to Puget Sound, and our goal was to make it there by the day’s end. It would be over twenty miles of paddling, our longest day of the trip, and although I had my concerns about paddling such an exposed stretch of coastline, I was thankful to get it done all in one chunk. And other than the murky air, conditions were perfect for the voyage.
We got to Fort Ebey State Park around 3:00 pm. The park is situated on Point Partridge, the elbow of Whidbey Island jutting out into the Strait of Juan de Fuca. With a western swell rolling down the strait, this spot can receive waves big enough for surfers to ride. But today we only heard the faintest lapping of tiny tumblers along the beach. Still feeling strong (though definitely sore), and not wanting to waste favorable conditions, we decided to continue on for the last seven miles to Fort Casey.
We found a hike/biker campsite located in a flat, grassy area in the middle of the campground, not far from the restrooms. We were surrounded by RVs, many with radios or televisions playing. A couple of older gentlemen drove into the campground on very loud Harley-Davidson motorcycles, reminding us that we were now camping on land easily serviced by roads. The other campers were cordial, but being quite a bit older than us, most kept their distance, presumably, out of concern for Covid-10 (or maybe they didn’t want to be around a couple of dirty kayakers.) While I wished we were staying somewhere less developed, it wasn’t all that different from being in Prevost Harbor on Stuart Island, or Fossil Bay on Sucia. And we were both so exhausted from the day’s paddle that all we wanted was to set up camp, cook dinner and climb in our sleeping bags. As a reward to ourselves, we decided to watch an episode of Frasier on the iPhone before going to sleep.