Yellow Island? Where’s that? Those were my thoughts when the folks at Paraclete Charters in Anacortes told me they would be making a spring expedition there.
| Paraclete Charter Service Anacortes 800-808-2999 www.paracletecharters.com
Nature Conservancy of Washington 217 Pine St., Suite 1100 Seattle 206-343-4344 www.nature.org, E-mail: washington @tnc.org WSU Master Gardeners 306 S. First St. Mount Vernon 360-428-4270 www.skagit.wsu.edu |
Paraclete operates several charter boats that can be reserved for individuals or groups. The water taxi has a cabin, a bathroom and space for 34 people. They’ll drop you anywhere their boat can nose onto a beach in the San Juan Islands, and they also have scheduled events.
That’s how I learned about Yellow Island, a 10-acre tract near Shaw Island. It is owned by the Nature Conservancy and uninhabited except for caretakers.
In the spring Paraclete makes several trips to Yellow Island to view the incredible, native wildflower bloom, something you won’t see elsewhere in the San Juans. Purple camas, yellow buttercup and red paintbrush predominated when I visited. There are expansive meadows carpeted with these and other plants – about 170 species, all told. Colors evolve as new plants bloom throughout the early March to mid-May display.
Lack of water precludes most land mammals here, but mink and river otter trails can be found. Rufous hummingbirds present a swooping display overhead while eagles and osprey stake out nesting territory.
Recently, several deer have taken to swimming a narrow channel from McConnell Island just to the northeast to forage on the flowers, fescue grasses and succulents. I saw harbor seals hauled out on rocky reefs. At other times of the year the seals bear and nurse their pups on island shores, which are off-limits to humans during these periods.
When I first learned of the trip I went straight to a map to locate Yellow Island. No luck, not even on a Washington atlas. Finally I was able to find it on a marine chart.
It’s a gorgeous place, originally inhabited by Coast Salish Indians. They fished for salmon and exercised a form of agriculture, harvesting then roasting camas bulbs and collecting such things as serviceberry, chocolate lily, desert parsley and yarrow.
It was a sunny April morning when we departed from Skyline Marina in Anacortes. Aboard were about 20 members of the Washington State University Extension Master Gardeners Program, volunteers who provide research-based garden information.
Skipper Rok Thornton guided the diesel-powered Paraclete into Burrows Channel and, at 18 knots, we eased up to a sand spit at Yellow Island about an hour later. A ladder was dropped from the bow onto the beach and everyone disembarked for a tour of the island.
Gwen Dunlap, sister of Paraclete owner Skip Heeter, reminded us of the strictly enforced regulations on the island: No leaving the paths, no camping or overnight mooring, no food or beverage, no pets, no plant collecting, no smoking. There are no public facilities. “Leave everything as you find it” are the operative words on a small island where vegetation is extremely sensitive to human impact.
The Paraclete has written permission for a larger group but visitation is normally restricted to a maximum party of six. “They trust us,” Dunlap said. “You can’t just jump in a power boat and go there,” she added. “They won’t let you on the island.” Groups must get permission through the Seattle Nature Conservancy office. (See info box; hours are 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. daily.
Dunlap gave a brief description of what we would encounter, including the caretaker’s cabin: “Everything – the lights, refrigeration and so forth – is run by solar power.” “Even the flowers, ” Capt. Thornton added. Indeed, saw a small solar panel that provides the caretaker cabin’s amenities.
After her words of caution, we headed up the trail and ran headlong into a wildflower showcase, something akin to an impressionist painting. Plant expert Becky Stinson began identifying plants for a few of us, but there are so many it was hard to keep them straight.
Even so, I found myself dragging behind, clicking my camera so frequently I shot through a roll of film in a matter of minutes. If you’re prone to dizziness, don’t take this walk, as you’ll find yourself spinning in circles, trying to absorb the jaw-dropping views that come at you from every direction. The carpet of colorful flowers juxtaposed against a backdrop of blue sky, water and islands is spectacular.
Soon we arrived at an information sign where steward Phil Green greeted us. Green and his wife, Kathy, have been employed here by the Nature Conservancy for about seven years. He’s there full time, and she joins him on weekends and summers when she’s not teaching in the Mount Vernon school district. They live in a rustic driftwood-and-stone cabin on an island promontory. It has what you might expect – an enviable view.
The cabin was originally built by Lew and Tib Dodd, who first obtained the property in 1946. It cost $300 to construct. Both Dodds are buried on the island, and a rock on an island high point bears two commemorative plaques. After their deaths their children sold the property to the Nature Conservancy, a nonprofit organization “devoted solely to the identification, protection and management of ecologically significant land.” The conservancy owns and manages 30 preserves in Washington and 1,500 nationwide.
Phil Green explained that the only intervention on natural processes now is controlled burning. “This,” he said, “is done for shrub control – ocean spray and snowberry, things like that, and certain tree seedlings, like Douglas fir and madrona.” The latter, he said, has invaded the island in the past 100 years. “We have pictures of the island from 1895. You didn’t see any madronas then, and just a few old-growth trees. If we did not do the burning it would look like any other San Juan island.” The burning also provides nutrients for the native plants.
Green speculated that some vegetation was controlled by the Coast Salish Indians. “There was an active native agriculture, and they probably weeded out some species.” Camas was a sweet food staple, he explained. “They took out the larger camas bulbs and replanted the smaller ones because they spread. It was their form of sugar and tasted like a baked pear.” It was also traded heavily with other coastal Indians, second only to salmon.
However, if this makes you want to run out and fashion a camas garden to enhance your kitchen reserves, bear Green’s concluding words in mind: “If you read Lewis and Clark’s journals, they say it (camas) caused great flatulence. One of his party said he was almost blown out of their hut by the strong wind.”
There was much laughter at this remark, and with it we dispersed to investigate the island while Green checks on kayakers who have landed on the beach.
It was all I could do to drag myself away from this sumptuous beauty and back to the Paraclete where the others of my party were already on board, patiently waiting for me. I told them I secretly hoped the boat had already left.
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