Monday, February 19, 2007
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.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Scott & I on the Bartram Canoe Trail
On a short notice trip, Scott and I headed for the upper delta and the Bartram Canoe Trail. We launched from Upper Bryant on Thursday afternoon and made a slow trip to the Dead Lake platforms. The water levels were decent, so we poked around some of the side channels off the Tensaw River on our way. Not much in the way of wildlife though, despite the relatively warm and humid day... just the winter birds.
Friday night was interesting. We knew that a front was pushing through, but weren't sure how the weather would ultimately play out during the trip. We soon found out. I spent the first part of the night hanging half-way out of my 15F sleeping bag, trying to stay comfortable. Around midnight, a storm blew over the delta, giving Scott a taste of southern storms. The rain poured down, dropping down the visibility to a few feet off the platform. Gusting winds started to blow the rain sideways under the platform and into the tent. We hopped out to slide the tent to the middle of the platform before we got completely soaked. Once the storm blew over, the temperature rapidly dropped, leaving me well inside the sleeping bag and struggling to stay warm.
The next morning, warmed with Kona coffee and oatmal, we headed up Bayou Tallapoosa to the west branch of the Tensaw River. The wind and current were with us, making this a pretty easy paddle We swung by Two Rivers Point Campsite to check it out, before moving on to the Bottle Creek Indian Mounds, the site of homes and temples of Mississippian Indians from approximately AD 1200 to 1450. We hiked mounds A and B, but there are actually a number of mounds in the area (although none are as large as A and B). The link will take you to a map. I've heard, but never read, several stories that the mounds were particularly important when water levels rose to flood levels. It's believable when you see how low the lands lay and consider that Katrina brought roughly 20 feet for storm surge to parts of the Gulf Coast.
We grabbed lunch on the bank of Bottle Creek before continuing through Bayou Jessamine to the Jug Lake platform. I've seen a lot of gators in Jug Lake in the past, but there were none on this trip unfortunately. We looked closely on sunny patches and logs, but it appears there were none readily visible. It was definitely cold, so perhaps they were hidden in the muddy banks. The water level was also extremely low...probably as low as I've seen up there. We pulled out on the platform to set up camp and eat dinner.
Once the sun had set and the moon was up, we hopped back into the kayaks to do a near-full moon paddle. It was cold and very quiet as we paddled...and of course everything was in grey scale. It only took a few minutes to paddle the lake, and we proceeded into Bayou Jessamine to paddle out to the river. The lake is relatively open, but the Bayou is pretty well covered by trees. So, we paddled for several miles in ghostly moonlight. Downed trees and branches pop out suddenly in such dim light, and in the shadows you never see them...just the sudden bump as the kayaks slide over or bump off the logs (or gators...we'll never know!) at 3 knots. It's an interesting experience to paddle at night and if you think about it at the time, you wonder what it was like for the frogmen who paddled klepper folding kayaks during nighttime raids.
After another chilly night, we loaded up the boats for our last day of paddling. We left Bayou Jessamine and rejoined the Tensaw river, passing east of both Larry Island and Richardson Island before arriving at our starting point at Upper Bryant. All in all, a nice paddle covering about 25 miles over two day with a little history and what wildlife the winter scene offers.
On Sunday, we met up with Harriet, Fritz, and Bob to paddle Magnolia Springs and a little of the Magnolia River. The water up Magnolia Springs runs clear, and the current and narrow turns make for some enjoyable paddling. We paddled up as far as we could before turning back and going downriver a ways. Our return paddle gave us a brilliant view of the full moon sitting low in a light blue sky.
(all pictures come courtesy of Scott...I forgot to pull out my camera)
Friday night was interesting. We knew that a front was pushing through, but weren't sure how the weather would ultimately play out during the trip. We soon found out. I spent the first part of the night hanging half-way out of my 15F sleeping bag, trying to stay comfortable. Around midnight, a storm blew over the delta, giving Scott a taste of southern storms. The rain poured down, dropping down the visibility to a few feet off the platform. Gusting winds started to blow the rain sideways under the platform and into the tent. We hopped out to slide the tent to the middle of the platform before we got completely soaked. Once the storm blew over, the temperature rapidly dropped, leaving me well inside the sleeping bag and struggling to stay warm.
The next morning, warmed with Kona coffee and oatmal, we headed up Bayou Tallapoosa to the west branch of the Tensaw River. The wind and current were with us, making this a pretty easy paddle We swung by Two Rivers Point Campsite to check it out, before moving on to the Bottle Creek Indian Mounds, the site of homes and temples of Mississippian Indians from approximately AD 1200 to 1450. We hiked mounds A and B, but there are actually a number of mounds in the area (although none are as large as A and B). The link will take you to a map. I've heard, but never read, several stories that the mounds were particularly important when water levels rose to flood levels. It's believable when you see how low the lands lay and consider that Katrina brought roughly 20 feet for storm surge to parts of the Gulf Coast.
We grabbed lunch on the bank of Bottle Creek before continuing through Bayou Jessamine to the Jug Lake platform. I've seen a lot of gators in Jug Lake in the past, but there were none on this trip unfortunately. We looked closely on sunny patches and logs, but it appears there were none readily visible. It was definitely cold, so perhaps they were hidden in the muddy banks. The water level was also extremely low...probably as low as I've seen up there. We pulled out on the platform to set up camp and eat dinner.
Once the sun had set and the moon was up, we hopped back into the kayaks to do a near-full moon paddle. It was cold and very quiet as we paddled...and of course everything was in grey scale. It only took a few minutes to paddle the lake, and we proceeded into Bayou Jessamine to paddle out to the river. The lake is relatively open, but the Bayou is pretty well covered by trees. So, we paddled for several miles in ghostly moonlight. Downed trees and branches pop out suddenly in such dim light, and in the shadows you never see them...just the sudden bump as the kayaks slide over or bump off the logs (or gators...we'll never know!) at 3 knots. It's an interesting experience to paddle at night and if you think about it at the time, you wonder what it was like for the frogmen who paddled klepper folding kayaks during nighttime raids.
After another chilly night, we loaded up the boats for our last day of paddling. We left Bayou Jessamine and rejoined the Tensaw river, passing east of both Larry Island and Richardson Island before arriving at our starting point at Upper Bryant. All in all, a nice paddle covering about 25 miles over two day with a little history and what wildlife the winter scene offers.
On Sunday, we met up with Harriet, Fritz, and Bob to paddle Magnolia Springs and a little of the Magnolia River. The water up Magnolia Springs runs clear, and the current and narrow turns make for some enjoyable paddling. We paddled up as far as we could before turning back and going downriver a ways. Our return paddle gave us a brilliant view of the full moon sitting low in a light blue sky.
(all pictures come courtesy of Scott...I forgot to pull out my camera)
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Meg and I at Dead Lake Island
Thanks to the kindness of our friends Fritz and Harriet, who lent us their truck and kayak, Meg and I were able to camp at the Dead Lake Island platforms, something she has wanted to do for a while. After picking up the neccesary supplies, we headed to Upper Bryants Landing. We paddled west along the Tensaw River, and cut down the east side of Dead Lake Island, detouring up an unnamed bayou to add a little time to our paddle. The fall colors had started, making for a very nice paddle. We swung up to the platforms and set up camp well before sunset, enjoying a lovely freeze dried dinner as the sun went down. It would proved to be a very loud night, with owls and sundry other fowl hooting and squawking through the night. The occasional fish would jump, adding to the symphony. I think at this point, I have become accustomed to the noise, because I feel asleep pretty quickly. Meg is more used to the trumpeter swans of Cordova, so I think she was up a little later. Still, we both slept fairly well. The highlight of the trip (next to seeing Meg) was waking up to a spectacular foggy morning. It was chilly, but a good helping of oatmeal and coffee set us up nicely and after loading up the boats, we headed off for Bayou Tallapoosa. The water was very high, making Bayou T a very easy trip...no portaging over or around logs. We stopped for a quick snack where Bayou T rejoins the Tensaw to the west before backtracking. On the return trip, Meg scared a healthy size 'gator off it's perch on a sunny log. Unfortunately, we weren't close enough to see much more than a fleeting glimpse, but such is life! We ran back up the west side of Dead Lake Island and returned to Upper Bryants landing. It was a pleasant and uneventful trip, covering about 14 miles of water and giving Meg the opportunity to experience some good kayaking in the upper Delta!
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