Best known for high-octane kayak surfing videos, The Hurricane Riders founder and filmmaker Marty Perry explores the quieter aspects of kayak tripping in his latest effort, Nootka Sound. For nine raw and soggy days last September, Perry marooned himself on an isolated islet off the west coast of Vancouver Island. No renegade waves, no rowdy crew. Just, as Perry explains, “The essence of why we ocean kayak, to find a secret place in the world and make it your own for a while.”
WHO ARE THE HURRICANE RIDERS?
We’re a tight group made up of a dozen wannabe wave heroes. To join THR, you must be obsessed with surfing boat-breaking surf, master the Skookumchuck wave [this B.C. tidal rapid is THR’s favored training ground and spiritual home—ed.] and have profound partying expertise. Generally, if you make it into The Hurricane Riders movies a couple of times, you’re getting close to being admitted. I feel like THR is a noun, “You paddle like a THRer.” The kayaking community has supported us tons over the years, inviting us to killer places around the world to paddle gnarly waves.
WHAT IS THE ALLURE OF FILMMAKING?
My passion for filmmaking goes back to a sunny day in Montréal in the early ‘90s. My girlfriend wanted to see The Big Blue, the freediving cult classic by Luc Besson. Her aunt owned the Crémazie Theatre, one of the oldest theatres in the city, and her cousin let us in for a private screening before the matinée. We had the whole place to ourselves. Who wants to film in the rain or freezing cold of a December session? Shooting kayaking in gale- force wind is hard work. But seeing your buddy climb up a 45-foot wave face—that visual is imprinted in your mind…and if you ever forget it, well, watch the THR vid.
WHEN WAS THE SEED PLANTED FOR NOOTKA?
I started to miss that nerve- racking feeling of being alone in the middle of nowhere with a camera in my hands and too much time to waste. My last big solo expedition was in November 2006 in Labrador. For 23 days, I chased little islands to get away from the ever-present bears and wolves, suffered four epic gales, got stranded for four days in 100-kilometer-per-hour winds, and finished off in a full-on blizzard. I had planned to camp on Saddle Island in Hamilton Inlet and surf my way back during a hefty nor’easter storm. Instead, I hitched a ride on the Northern Ranger ferry to Goose Bay. That was my last year living in Montréal. I drove to British Columbia with my kayak and never looked back.
WHERE DID YOU FIND THE PERFECT SPOT?
Ten years ago, I wondered, was there a Saddle Island on the West Coast? Today, at 45, I’m a stay-at-home dad, dirtbag kayaker living the dream, riding the wave of my banking VP wife. Work is not a priority, life is. With my mother-in-law in town nagging me about my hopeless career, I had to get out of the house, fast. I scoured the West Coast for a perfect micro island exposed to big southern swell, bought a couple of charts, and headed for Nootka Sound.
WHY MAKE THIS JOURNEY ALONE?
Recently, I had been filming rough water events in Baja, Spain, San Francisco and Pacific City, Oregon, but nothing purely for me. I knew I wanted to make a film about deliberately heading into foul weather. Finding a partner who can commit to long hours of suffering and potential danger is hard. It’s like asking people to help you move on the most miserable day of the year. That’s why solo trips happen, ‘cause it ain’t easy finding suckers.
This article originally appeared in Adventure Kayak Spring 2016 issue.
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