Hope Island gives kayakers true tranquility

SOUTH PUGET SOUND, Wash. – During summer, when every Seattleite and their visiting mother-in-law seems to embrace the great Northwest outdoors, you can often hear the day-trippers in the parking lots and on the trails before you even spot them.

The stampede of feet rattling along the gravel paths. The echoes of large groups chatting, and barking dogs drowning out the tranquility.

But rest assured, you will always have Hope Island.

That’s because few tourists – or locals, even – have heard of this state marine park. Or they confuse it with the Hope Island by Deception Pass.

Nestled between Shelton and Olympia, this South Sound park remains one of the area’s best-kept secrets, a poor man’s San Juan Islands day trip and a favorite with many sea kayakers.

I saw more seals peek-a-booing around Hope Island in one afternoon than in all my trips to the San Juans. And I didn’t hear motorboats. At least not hordes of them.

This park, a hot spot for bird-watching, clam digging and mushroom hunting, enjoys anonymity for several reasons. The once-private island didn’t become public until 19 years ago, and it’s only accessible by small boat.

I kayaked there recently on a sunny, shorts-and-T-shirt kind of day, and it looked as deserted as ever.

It’s about a two-hour trip to Hope Island from Seattle: an hour to the launching dock of Boston Harbor, north of downtown Olympia, and another hour to kayak to the island when the tides are out.

We glided effortlessly, not breaking a sweat, thanks to a generous tide that had us going 5 mph, according to the GPS.

Gerry Hodge, founder of the South Sound Area Kayakers Club, leaned back on his kayak, as if relaxing in a La-Z-Boy.

“There’s no one here because everybody goes to the San Juans,” he said. “That’s why it’s never crowded.”

Sure, we spotted three-story houses along the banks on our way, but the area seems like some forgotten coast. So few folks fishing. Hardly anyone frolicking in the sun.

Instead, we heard flocks of seagulls on both sides of the shores. We saw about a dozen harbor seals wallowing on the dock of Carlyon Beach, west of us.

As the tides pushed us closer to Hope Island, I could see part of the 1.5- mile stretch of pebble-and-sand shoreline, a hotbed for geoducks and clams in the spring.

Once ashore, we headed inland. A second-growth forest of towering cedars, Douglas firs and some surprising Pacific yews awaited, with bald eagles, woodpeckers and a dozen other species hovering above.

There are orchard trees near the shore. But the real bounty, a park ranger once told me, is found below, all across the island: chanterelles, oyster mushrooms and morels, a well-kept secret for seasoned mushroom hunters.

We hiked along the two-mile interpretive trail, a flat path manageable for children and seniors, with five exit points to the beach. On a clear day, you can see Mount Rainier from the south and east side of the island.

Because the 106-acre island is so small and quiet, the movements and sounds of wildlife are more pronounced – and familiar if you stay long enough. It’s hard not to run into deer.

“It’s to the point where (the island caretakers) will even name the deer and watch the fawns grow up during the season,” said park ranger Mischa Cowles.

In the last century, this private island was mostly a summer getaway for a couple of wealthy families, including Louis Schmidt of the Olympia Brewing Company. In 1990, the state purchased it for $3.1 million and designated it a public park.

Campgrounds are located near the beach, along with kayak racks, picnic tables and bathrooms.

The drawbacks are that you have to bring your own water since no freshwater is accessible, and campfires aren’t allowed.

The closest thing you have to a visitor’s center is the island caretaker, who lives near a windmill left over from the homestead a century earlier. Other than that, the park is a sprawling mass of meadows and trees.

If you request ahead, a park ranger will give large groups a guided tour of the island (call 360-426-9226).

But I was content to spend the remaining lazy afternoon in solitude along the beach. I think those seals laying in the sun earlier had it just right.