Short update on a long time...

Alright...I know it's been a while, but I wasn't here! The NOLS sea kayaking trip in Baja was spectacular. I don't have time to cover the trip in detail here, but what will forever stand out toe me was the opportunity to watch 19 consecutive sunrises, alternately with a paddle or a cup of coffee in hand. The pictures are here;

http://picasaweb.google.com/out2sea03

Also, I started flight school unexpectedly early, which is contributing to the limited trip report from Baja. I have found a couple opportunities to kayak though...a classic delta trip to Jug Lake last week, and a foggy morning yesterday.

Odd Duck.
Downtown Milton.

Liquid Sunshine

On Sunday, Meg and I hit Lake Union to test out our new NDK Explorers. We had originally planned to paddle out through the locks and into Elliot Bay, but the winds were forecast to build up to 20+ knots in the afternoon and we decided that we did not relish maneuvering alongside larger vessels in those conditions while working our way through the locks for the first time. Instead, we went for a relatively uneventful paddle around Lake Union, stopping along the way for tea and crackers with Brad Soule. Never a good idea... no one wants to go back into the rain after a hot cup of tea. Still, we pushed on from his boat and paddled around Gas Works Park to Fremont Bridge and back across the lake toward Lynn Street Park where we put in. We spent about 30-40 minutes doing self-rescues at the put-in before loading the boats up and moving them to their new storage locations...where mine will sadly wait until the next time I find myself in Seattle :(

Pike Street Market

Monkfish at Pike Street Market fishmonger...suprisingly tasty if cooked well.

Mobile Blog Test

A test of mobile blogger...a landy w/ an NDK Explorer

Kayaking Johnstone Strait and Broughton Archipelago

Alright...posting from the road was a dismal failure, so here it is...the trip report from Johnstone Strait.

August 15th:
Our kayaks didn't make it from lovely old England in time for the trip, but Alder Creek was kind enough to lend us two Nigel Dennis Explorers; the same model we had ordered. After a refresher course at Alder Creek on solo and group-assisted rescues, we loaded up the Subaru and started the two day trip north to Telegraph Cove in British Columbia, stopping in Port Angeles along the way to visit Dan and Steph...unfortunately, Steph was out of town and Dan had duty at the airstation. So it goes.

August 16th:
We ferried across to Vancouver Island on the 16th and spent most of the day driving north, picking up supplies and obtaining permission from the Mamalelqala Que'Qwa'SotEnox Band Office in Cambell River to visit Village Island. The supply run and long search in Campell River for the Band Office caused us to miss our tide at Telegraph Cove and we had to spend the night at Alder Bay. Still, it gave us a chance to more carefully organize gear and enjoy listening to the woman in the campsite next to ours whose heart would apparently stop beating if she ceased talking for even one second at any time during the long, pleasant cool evening on such a gorgeous beach overlooking the cutest islands that just had to be there for...well, you get the idea.

August 17th:
Underway at last (but late again). We bucked a little current-driven confused water traveling from Alder Bay to the Pearse Islands; nothing challenging, but a good wake-up to the dangers posed by ignoring tide and current predictions around Vancouver Island!

We paddled around the Pearse Island for about three hours, getting comfortable with the boats and waiting for slack water to cross Johnstone Strait. Around 1230 or so, we made the crossing in a choppy, wind-driven sea to Hanson (Yukusam) Island...a little challenge that, while expected, raised awareness again! We paddled in calm water along the north-eastern side of Hanson Island to get to a camping area near Blackfish Sound. Although not the most attractive campsite (especially in the rain), it was dinner time and we were ready to stop for the day. We took a hike along the trail near the campsite to examine the lookout marked on our charts. The trail was easily followed and showed extensive signs of human use. Then we spotted our first British Columbia woodland wildlife...hippies! Yes, it's true...they are still there. What we happened upon was an old, secret anti-logging activists camp. First Nation tribes and these activists successfully limited old-growth logging on Hanson Island after plotting the location of numerous culturally modified tree's; tree's whose bark had been stripped by First Nation's for baskets and other cultural artifacts(click here and here for descriptions). Walrus and his younger assistant provided us a tour of the site, describing the history of the First Nation tribe that had occupied the island, the history of the anti-logging camp, and modern efforts to limit logging and resource extraction in the area by training First Nation descendants to identify culturally modified tree's.

August 18th:
We left the Hanson Island campsite without looking back...in addition to not being particulary attractive, it was also littered with soggy cardboard boxes from the encampment. We crossed Blackfish Sound bound for Village Island and the remains of a 1930's village that was the site of the last potlach in British Columbia. The event was raided by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police under anti-potlach laws (source: Kayak Routes of the Pacific Northwest). Crossing Blackfish Sound was our first interaction with significant marine traffic...this small area is a funnel for all major shipping traffic traveling the Inside Passage. We sat and waited off Hanson Island for a large tug and tow to pass before we started our crossing. We meandered through the islands as we paddled towards Village Island, watching porpoises transit past and examining the sunlit kelp beds. Camping isn't permitted on Village Island, so we stopped near Ralph Island to explore several small islets (read large rocks!) as potential campsites. One rock looked perfect... great views, barely enough room for two tents, dry driftwood, and a great place for a campfire. We stopped to pitch the tents and decided to push Village Island off until the 19th...the beauty of being on vacation!

We spent a nice night on the islet...a good dinner was consumed, s'mores were prepared, sunset was observed...

August 19th:
We woke to a foggy morning...ahhh, the many moods of British Columbia! No reason to rush...we started slowly and enjoyed our coffee while the fog lifted. We had barely started away from the island when we were overtaken by more transiting Harbour porpoises. We stopped to watch again as they came by. It's very cool to sit in near complete silence on the water, listening as porpoises break the surface and breathe heavily. We continued on towards Village Island, landing on the broad beach facing the village. Although our guidebook suggested an easy walk around the village, we found it heavily overgrown with blackberries (delicious blackberries...). The beach was littered with broken glass and many of the houses showed similar signs of beer-fests. Still, the attractiveness of the village was evident and we found two beautiful, aged totem poles on either end of the village...now barely recognizable as such without closer inspection.

From Village Island, we paddled northeastward towards Broughton Archipelago. We started our search for campsites towards evening, focusing our search for a beach facing the sun. We spotted numerous small islands some distance ahead, and given our success with the small island the previous night, we elected to push onward. As we paddled up to the islands, we could tell we had found somewhere special. More birds (and a greater variety of species) were winging their way around the islands as we approached, we saw more seals here than anywhere else, and at least one very large sea lion (the only one we saw on the trip) was sighted. Finding an island with a tent spot was a challenge...our marine recreation map didn't extend this far and our marine chart didn't provide sufficient scale. After 45 minutes of searching, we found somewhere we figured would work. We hopped out to check; there were no signs of a rookery and the island appeared unsuitable for a seal haul-out. There was a tiny flat spot on the island where we figured two tents would just fit. Perfect. The take-out could only support one person at a time, so we began a caravan of dry bags out of each kayak one at a time before hauling them up the rocks.

Although we practiced minimal-impact techniques throughout our trip, we were particularly careful here...the area was rich with marine wildlife, the island we camped on was extremely small, and due to it's exposed, isolated nature seemed to be rarely visited by humans. I won't publish it's location here...like us, you will have to explore a little to find it!

We whipped up a salmon alfredo with pasta for dinner and watched humpback whales blowing heavily as they swam by at sunset.

August 20th:
We woke to the sounds of heavy breathing...ORCAS! We scrambled for clothes and leapt out of the tents. The islands were ringed by very, very deep water and we watched for about a half-hour as three or four Orca's circled the island, apparently fishing. The water was clear enough to see them as they swam underwater, barely 100 feet from where we were standing. It was a spectacular sight and made for a great start to my 27th birthday. Not being experienced enough to distinguish between a resident pod of whales that feeds almost exclusively on salmon and a transient population that prefers seals and sea lions, we elected to linger over breakfast and a second cup of coffee to be sure that (a) we didn't disturb the Orca's, or (b) become the first recorded case of a wild-Orca attack on humans.

Once things had settled down, we proceeded towards Berry Island to explore a promising mark on our charts..."petroglyphs." We landed on the north side of the island and quickly found the trail. Unfortunately, he headed out the wrong direction and found only a resort. Backtracking to our starting point and hiking the other direction led us to a promising area sealed off with a sign identifying a First Nation site closed to public access. So, we had a nice two-hour hike in the woods, but saw no petroglyphs. We paddled on from Berry Island and hauled out at Compton Island. Although this is one of the few islands where a camping fee is levied, it also had great campsites set back in the woods that were relatively dry...a nice break from the rain we had experienced for most of the day...and some log benches that were a nice change from rock seats! Meg whipped up some enormous Enchiladas for dinner and broke out several small birthday cakes she had squirrelled during our supply run on Vancouver Island.

There might be better places to be on your birthday, but I can't think of any :)

August 21st:
While we packed the kayaks in the morning, waiting for our tide to cross to Blackfish Sounds, we were treated to an unusual sight. A deer had decided to brave the not-insignificant current in the channel between Compton and Harbledown Island. He narrowly missed a collision with several salmon fishermen (who evidently lacked deer licenses, or I suspect he never would have made it!) and after a 5-10 minute swim hauled himself out on Compton Island a little ways down the beach, calmly shook off, and meandered into the woods. Evidently, deer can swim. We paddled "straight out of Compton" shortly afterwards and made an uneventful crossing of Blackfish Sound to Hanson Island. We tucked into a lee on the south side of the island for a second review of the weather.

Winds for the next day were predicted to build late in the afternoon to strong to moderate as a high pressure built over the forecast area. That's it. "Outlook: strong to moderate northwesterly's."We sat around discussing the situation for a few minutes...the crossings we had made previously were in light to moderate winds. Scott spoke up first...given his previous experience with Johnstone Strait where and and Fisher never made it out of Telegraph Cove due to weather, we decided to bag the trip a day early. We didn't want to attempt a crossing of Johnstone Strait after a reasonable duration of wind over a long fetch had a chance to work on the surface, nor did we particularly want to get stuck on Hanson Island waiting out the weather.

We proceeded from our lee to the crossing, reaching Vancouver Island near Kaikash Creek and turned towards Alder Bay. Perversely, the weather improved throughout our paddle, ultimately becoming glass calm with no wind at the take out. Still, we felt no need to tempt the weather gods in what might easily have been the calm before the storm. We unpacked the boats and loaded the car. A bittersweet moment...it was a great trip, and I was ready for a shower and a beer, but it also meant that this vacation in the Pacific Northwest and it was about time to leave home and return to the South.

We never looked back to Johnstone Strait to verify the veracity of the forecast and evaluate our decision...better to let such things go.
----------------------------------------------------
I didn't spend a lot of time with the camera in hand, mostly due to challenging conditions during crossings that made photography unwise, or because I was too busy enjoying the view. You can find the pictures we did take on the trip here:

-- Johnstone Strait and Broughton Archipelago Pictures --

(I recommend using the slide show feature)

After about two weeks of intensive failing to plan, Nate, Jon, Adam, and I met at Tuscan Oven to plan an overnight trip down the Blackwater River. We left agreeing to meet at my apartment. We failed to set a meeting time. At about 9am, we were all at the apartment ready to go. A quick stop for sandwiches and ice and we were on our way to the take-out at Blackwater River State Park to leave a vehicle. Here we encountered our first obstacle...none of the guides noted that although you could make multi-day trips down the Blackwater, leaving a car overnight at the final take-out was not an option. Fortunately, we were able to pay Blackwater Canoe Rentals for an overnight space just outside the park.

From the park, we headed north towards the put-in at Peadon Bridge. We crossed the border into Alabama. That was unexpected...the entire trip was supposed to take place entirely in Florida. We turned around and found our missed turn; the street sign was entirely covered by tree's. Not that it mattered...the road was closed less than a mile later due to a bridge replacement. We turned around (again) and headed for Cotton Bridge two miles downriver. Shortly after noon, we were on our way down the Blackwater.

Enroute, we determined that we hadn't brought spoons or bowls for oatmeal in the morning. That later proved irrelevant, as we also forgot the oatmeal, granola bars, coffee, and s'mores makings (except the chocolate). Frankly, it's a miracle we survived. Jon and Adam were able to save the inner-tube containing beer and dinner from several near-punctures and we made it to our sandbar that night and lit a great fire. We found a lot of dead cedar across the river from our camp, so after some heavy hatchet work, we had cedar-smoked kebab's for dinner.

Sunday morning, after a breakfast that didn't consist of oatmeal and coffee, we made our way down the last 9-odd river-miles to the take-out. Sunday was significantly less eventful than Saturday and we pulled out at around noon.

Jon and Adam maneuvering the beer cooler downriver.

Nate on the Blackwater

Drying clothes on the fire.

The boys...

Fire on the Sandbar.

Post-trip at the take-out.

A couple things...

Alright, so I've been lazy on this....I've attached a few pics from a whitewater class that Jon, Ali, and I went to in Helena, AL. It was sweet, definitely different than sea kayaking. I'm hoping to get a little more involved in the sport, just not sure how it will work out. Anyway, here are the pics...

Meg and I are planning a big trip this summer...some hiking in Alaska and kayaking in Canada. As I can, I will try to post updates from the road.

Circumnavigation of Gravine Island on a Clif Bar...

Last Saturday, I decided it was time to try a new paddling route...kayaking around Gravine Island seemed like a good idea so I borrowed a truck, loaded my Eddlyline SeaStar, and headed for the launch at Byrnes Lake. Byrnes Lake is an oxbow-type lake and used to be part of the Tensaw River. Gravine Island is predominantly a spoil-island that was created during a dredging project in the Tensaw River to allow for the movement of a mothball fleet of WWII-vintage warships into long-term storage.

The weather continues to be reasonably pleasant for kayaking (maybe a little warm) and paddling out of Byrnes Lake was completely uneventful. It was nice to be in a hard-shell boat again and I spent some time playing around as paddled out. From Byrnes Lake, I quickly crossed the Tensaw River to avoid being mowed down by the Memorial Day Weekend crowd of boats (I don't plan to find out, but I suspect a kevlar hull might do some good damage to an outboard!) and turned south to paddle with the current along Gravine Island's Eastern shoreline. There wasn't much to see along the Eastern shore, although everything is noticeably greener with the coming of summer and you can hear a lot of birds flitting around in the bushes. I wish I knew a little more about bird calls and give a better description of what I was hearing, but all I can say is that it was loud! The powerlines are home to osprey nests, but interesting enough, although each tower could theoretically support four nests, they each only hold one. I suppose, however, that it provides a chance for squirrels to cross to Gravine Island.

The West side of Gravine Island provides significant shelter from current due to the winding channels through grass and swamp. On any trip, this makes it worth planning to paddle against the current on the West side, and with the current on the East side. When I originally planned the trip, I didn't intend to cut into the two inlets on the West side, but I was felling energetic and paddle back into both. They make for interesting paddling, especially the southern inlet, because you can see a marked change in vegetation and growth as you paddle in towards the center of the island. Because of the shallow entrance, there is very little powerboat traffic and a good deal of bird life. After a quick stop on the sandbar at the North end of Gravine Island (home to red-bellied turtles during nesting season!) I rounded the island and crossed back to Byrnes Lake and the landing. My two detours ultimately drew out my original trip plan of 8-10 miles into to a 15 mile excursion, but it was well worth it! A shorter, and equally interesting trip would involve paddling around the North end of Gravine and cutting into one of the inlets before paddling back along the same Northern route and across to Byrnes Lake.

The bird

ok...Tracy nailed it, we saw a female anhinga.
http://www.birds.cornell.edu/AllAboutBirds/BirdGuide/Anhinga.html#descriptio

Back to the big mound of dirt...

On Saturday, I led a paddle out to the Bottle Creek Indian Mounds. "Led," isn't exactly accurate as it was a pretty self-propelling group, but I can still take credit for it. We met at the Stagecoach Cafe at 9, waited the obligatory 10 or 15 minutes for late-comers and then headed for Rice Creek Landing. The water was very low, but we found a Lexus with two empty kayak racks already at the landing...evidence that (a) there was enough water to paddle, and (b) I'm not the only yuppie-kayaker in the deep south.

We launched into Rice Creek without incident and made a pretty quick trip through Rice Creek, across Briar Lake, behind Larry Island, and into Bayou Jessamine. Jessamine was also very low, but it looked like the State Lands folks had been through recently to clear the logs jams and we made it through without any real problems. We stopped to watch a couple good-old fishermen attempt to jump their 125hp john-boats over a fairly significant log. Not sure how it went, but we didn't see them again.

The Indian Mounds were as expected...about 40 ft high and heavily overgrown. I won't repeat the information here, but click this link to read more about this historical (and undeveloped) site...Bottle Creek Indian Mounds.

After a brief stop for lunch we paddled back towards Rice Creek with a quick diversion into Jug Lake to show several newcomers the platforms available for kayak/canoes to reserve for camping (click here and follow the overnight trails link on the right to get to the reservations page).

We didn't see any 'gators on this trip, although we did hear one inside Jug Lake...similar to a distress call found at the Florida Natural History website. We also saw an interesting bird we couldn't identify...similar in shape to a cormorant in flight, but with an all white head and neck...juvenile maybe?

Anyway, it was about a 9-10 mile paddle and the weather was about perfect...warm, light breezes, and not humid. Possible one of the last days of good paddling weather until October!

Mobile Urban Adventure Race

On Saturday, Jon, Alli, and I ran the first Mobile Urban Adventure Race. We were not prepared. Still, we did alright; finishing in the middle of the pack with a time just under three hours. I won't reveal too many details about the course, but it involved about 9 legs involving running, biking, and canoeing, along with several mystery challenges. We ultimately canoed about 4 miles, ran about 5, and biked about 15. Definitely a good time...recommend it next year. Here are the pics:

A few things...

Ok, since I haven't updated in a while, here are a few quick items. First, England. Tried to kayak. No joy. We did take punts down the river Cam a few times...it's a nice relaxing way to see some of England's oldest colleges and it has the benefit of being human powered. It's also funny to watch people who have no idea how to push a flat bottomed boat with a big stick try to get around. Especially when the pole get's stuck in the mud and they decide it would be better to hold onto the stick than stay on the flat-bottomed boat. Sadly, I've only actually seen this happen once. But it was funny! (I'll post a picture as soon as I get them uploaded)

I made it to St. Louis for a work conference the week after coming back to England. I was pretty ill on the tail end of the England trip, so St. Louis will have to be full explored another time. However, I did get to the famous arch (pretty cool, worth a ride up) and I ran some of the trail that runs along the riverfront. It's a great biking and running trail...a little shady around the abandoned warehouses and power plant, but still cool.

When I got back, the club did a night paddle. It never fails...I really like kayaking under a full moon. It's very relaxing, but it also makes me think about special forces teams using kayaks to conduct nightime insertions during WWII.

first drive of my new Werner paddle...

wow. yeah. nice. soooooo much nicer than I expected. OK, enough meaningless descriptors. I bought a new 210cm Werner Cyprus paddle. It's their foam core, carbon fiber high-angle touring blade. I have been using a 220cm Werner Camano, a fiberglass, low-angle blade...which I like and it's been a very good paddle. But I wanted a spare paddle. I considered buying something cheap (sort of like a donut spare for your car) that would get me back to the beach in the event of a broken Camano. But after paddling the higher angle blade while Meg and I tested some boats in Portland, I decided to get a good quality paddle and have the option of high or low angle blades while underway.

These are my thoughts on the new blade....first off, it has a much lighter feel out of the water. The adjustable ferrule had me a little nervous, but after seeing the quality up-close, I'm no longer worried about it. It's much more versatile than a fixed feather-angle paddle and easier to adjust on the water. Once on the water, the paddle was a dream. The adjustment to a higher angle stroke was a little awkward at first..if you try to paddle hard at a low angle, the blade flutters a little, which is effective feedback if you get lazy. With the larger blade-face there is a discernible difference in the power at hand. I was able to get the boat up to speed much quicker, and even a more relaxed touring stroke felt much more powerful. The buoyancy in the blades really reduces the effort on the back part of the stroke; at the right pace, it almost paddles itself. The lighter weight, shorter length, buoyancy, and larger blade face made it really easy to pull-off some maneuvering strokes. I found I was able to use one hand to hold the paddle upright an execute some draw strokes, and I was able to put significantly more power to the water with the larger blade (power-available may be biggest difference between this and my other paddle).

All in all, I love the paddle; certainly more than I expected too. I led a commuter paddle along the causeway when I first used the new Werner, so I didn't really have the opportunity to do as much experimentation as I wanted. Right now, I can't wait to get back out on the water.

Bay Minette Creek and the Blackwater Heritage Trail

Well, I got two things done this weekend. I had intended to hit the Gulf this weekend to paddle on the ocean rather than up in the Delta, but with small craft advisories out on Saturday I changed my plans and headed for Buzbee's fish camp and Bay Minette Creek. I have paddled out of Buzbee's a number of times, but we invariable turn right and head for the river. So, for a change, I paddled north up Bay Minnette Creek. A quick look at the map showed a bridge a little over 5.5 water miles north, so that was my aim point. The creek was a lot nicer than I had imagined. There was very little development and as I moved north, it narrowed down and actually started to look like some of the river banks in parts of the American Southwest. Like a lot of the rivers and creeks, Bay Minette Creek terminates in a tree-choked, gin clear spring. In this case, it was just past the bridge. On the paddle back, a hawk flew close-by, a large fish swimming in it's talons. There were a lot of turtles out too, as usual they began throwing themselves off their logs as soon as I came into site. There were some very large splashes, so some of these turtles are pretty large; smart enough not to be caught napping on a log by a hungry 'gator. Bay Minette was about an 11 mile paddle.

On Sunday, I drove out to Milton to ride the Blackwater Heritage Trail with Nate. The trail is pretty neat, and it runs from Milton out to the back gate at NAS Whiting Field (hoping to be able to commute along it next year!). The portion that runs through Milton is pretty busy and has a lot of stops, but once through the village, it opens up pretty nicely. It is, literally, up hill both ways though...the lowest part of the trail in in the middle, so essentially you are riding across a valley. Nothing serious though, it is THE SOUTH! The trail is part of the national Rails to Trails system, and part of it runs through farms...quails run across the road, adding to complications such as wayward children on training wheels and vagrant-looking teenagers on skateboards. All in all though, it was perfect weather for biking and a good distance, maybe 16 miles overall.



l.

Canal Island Group Trip

It's always nice when plans come together! Jon, Ali, Nate and I had been thowing around the idea of kayaking trip into the Delta for a while, particularly before Nate PCS'd out to Hawaii. Last weekend proved to be the perfect merger of a cutter maintenance period for me, a few days not on the road for Jon and Ali, and a non-flying Saturday for Nate. So, after laying in supplies for an overnight we strapped kayaks to trucks and headed for Hubbard Landing.

Our launch was slightly delayed as we had forgotten the beer at home and had to drive back to Stockton in order to pick some up. Once we were suitably loaded we hit the water and began paddling towards Canal Island platform. We stopped in Big Beaver Creek for Jon and Ali to dip the 5 Rivers Resource Center paddle before continuing to the platform. We were able to approach the platform from the northern channel; last time I was there I had to come from the south as the northern end was completely blocked by downed trees. We stopped by the platform to offload gear and pull out the map to plan the rest of the day. We elected to paddle down Little Lake until we were tired, or reached a point where we needed to turn around and head back before we lost daylight. As we came out of the south channel into Little Lake, we ran into Rob Nykvist, who pointed us towards Napp Lake where he had seen a number of small 'gators out sunning themselves. Seeing as this was probably a one-off opportunity for Nate and as everyone apparently wanted to see alligators, we revised our plan and turned north for Napp Lake. As Rob promised, we saw several small alligators that had roused themselves out of torpor to hang out on some of the sunnier logs. Nate was able to dip the paddle in Napp Lake, and once we hit the end of Napp Lake, hunger drove us back to the platform.

Canal Island platform seems to harbour a lot of fish; like the last time I was there, we could hear fish jumping all through the night. The owls were out too, and combined with a full moon, made for a really nice, if loud night. Still, we all slept well and woke up to a very cold morning. We paddled the 5 or so miles back relatively early that mornng as Jon had a flight out that night...with a following wind and current, we made very good time. At the end of the trip, we had paddled about 14miles through five named bodies of water.

Sometimes...

not checking the map or the weather before you leave makes for interesting paddling. I left this morning after a bracing breakfast of tamago kake gohan (Wikipedia it if you must!) to paddle off Fairhope. I've started runs from the Pier Street Boat Ramp many times, but I've never used it as a kayak launching point before and wanted to check it out. I pulled on the windproof fleece and headed to the water....not many people out, so I got to assemble the boat quickly. In addition to the using the Pier Street Boat Ramp, I also wanted to look for a creek north of Devils Hole that I had heard about (but didn't look for on a map). A gentle 3-5kt wind followed me as I paddled past the Fairhope Municipal Pier and Devils Hole. Unfortunately, no other creek appeared to be forthcoming and as I was unwilling to wait for global climate change to generate results, I turned around about a mile or so past Devils Hole and paddled back. Devils Hole contains the Fairhope Yacht Club and "Fly Creek," so I swung in to check out the sailboats and paddle up Fly Creek. On the way out, I ran into (almost literally) a bearded, old fisherman throwing a cast-net out for mullet. I need to start carrying cash with me when I paddle; I just found a recipe for fried mullet and this would have been a great opportunity to pick some up fresh. Still, it was a pleasant scene watching someone who had obviously been fishing for many years working his trade on a sunny day. As I popped out of the breakwater, I realized that the wind had picked up significantly...to the tune of a 10-15kt headwind. Actually, a pure headwind would have been nice, this one was slightly off the port bow, requiring me to shift my grip on the paddle to the right. That works well for making automatic correcting strokes, but it does give wind gusts a good lever to work on! Anyway, it was a good paddle, about 8.5 miles over 2.25 hours with a strong finish and a Clif bar at the end.

Kayaking Key West and the Dry Tortugas

I bought my Feathercraft folding kayak for occasions such as these...

COBIA was the first cutter from 8th District to deploy to Key West to help fill the gap left by the recent suspension of operations of the eight 123' patrol boat conversions. Operationally, it was less exciting that I had hoped, but before we left, I stuck the kayak in the bilge, slept under my paddles en-route, and subsequently had the chance to do a couple neat paddles while we were deployed.

My first trip was in Key West itself when we were kept in-port due to weather (7-9 ft seas outside the reefline, larger in the Gulf Stream). The kayak guru's at Lazy Dog Outfitter's provided me with information about some of the best mangrove trips in the area, so I lugged the boat about a quarter mile to the old seaplane docks and launched into some strong headwinds. The route I followed ran north along Key West past the sailboat moorings (and there were many!). I then turned south into a small canal that immediately shifted to dense Mangrove. Despite being spitting distance from civilization (in this case, Ruby Tuesday's and Winn Dixie), it feels like you are miles from anywhere. I could see countless fish swimming amongst the mangroves, and a small nurse shark passed underneath the boat just after I entered the canal.

After about ten minutes of easy paddling, the canal made a 90 degree turn and opened up into a residential zone...airport property on the right, houses on the left. I took a right into a small entrance that passes through more mangrove forest and into the salt ponds. I paddled around in there for a while...no more sharks, but more little fish fleeing the kayak, blue herons, and great egrets.

I paddled out of the salt ponds, and in the interests of not backtracking, I continued along the canal until it opened up into the pass that bisects Key West. After passing under the famous Route 1, I continued north into more open water. While I was inside the mangroves, the wind had picked up considerably, but was at my back fortunately. I kayaked around the North side of Sigsbee Naval Park and back through the sailboat moorings to the seaplane dock with significant following winds and seas. Always fun!

My second trip was at Dry Tortugas National Park when we stopped by on our way home for a little R&R (our first trip there was less relaxing...we picked up 21 Cuban migrants who were "feet-dry" and transported them back to Key West). We were anchored about a half-mile north of the park, so I dropped the kayak in the water and paddled off to see the fort. With only a couple hours available, I landed on the north swim beach and walked around to the front of the fort. There is a short 30-40 minutes unguided tour, so I walked around for a while looking at everything. The fort was built as a strategic outpost to protect the Gulf Coast, the theory being that anyone who controlled the Dry Tortugas had secured themselves a base of operations that would allow them to strike anywhere inside the gulf with relative ease. The scale of the fort is simply amazing...and that actually contributed to it's failure. The building is so heavy that it settled onto itself, cracking the freshwater cisterns and creating other problems. Still, it's worth a stop if you are in the area.

After walking around the fort, I hopped back into the kayak to circumnavigate the fort from the water. From the outside, you can easily see how impregnable the fort would have been...three tiers of cannons laid out to provide effective crossfire. It would have taken a substantial fleet some time to bring down such a fort.

Great Egret(?) in the Salt Ponds.

Pushing into the mangroves...

Oh, the temptations!

Bird on watch along the old piers.