Scary, but not really

 The first group paddle in two years was bound to be a little nerve wracking. So much of this transition out of COVID is socially nerve wracking without adding in paddling conditions. Do you wear masks on the beach and keep distance at lunch? Is everyone vaccinated?

Adding condition into the mix added an extra layer of anxiety. The sea was a carpet of white caps and the wind was forecast to increase. The conditions were nothing I haven't paddle in before, but I also haven't paddled in them in more than a year. Nor have I paddled in a group in more than a year.

Familiarity and trust go a long way in bolstering confidence.

When we rounded the point things were bouncy. The horizon was a line of breakers and we were heading straight into them.

I was feeling a bit on edge and questioning the wisdom of leaving the beach. However, I stayed the course. We had a core of strong, experienced paddlers in the group. I trusted that they would pick a reasonable route. Also, we each stroke of the paddle I began to get back into the groove.

About 30 minutes in I most of the edge I had burned off and I was feeling good. If there isn't any bounce, is it really ocean paddling?

We lunched just south of the nubble at the mouth of the Westport River. It was nice to just sit around and chat on the beach. We may have been a little more spread out than in previous years or not. It was just nice to hang on the beach and chat.

Since we were in a little bit of a time crunch, we decided to paddle straight from lunch to the tip of Gooseberry. The threatened winds were mild, the fog had burned off, and the white caps had mostly subsided.

It was a perfect route for experimenting with my skeg. The wind was just enough to cause some weather cocking. A little skeg could lighten the burden of using correcting strokes.  Too much skeg could be counter productive. Any amount of skeg blunts the Aries best feature.

In the end, I came back to my default position. Skegs are too complicated unless absolutely needed.... The Aries is maneuverable enough that keeping her on course with a little edging and slipping a little bow rudder into my forward stroke does wonders.

Rounding the point to get back to the beach looked a little intimidating. The tide had gone out enough to make the rocks visible and the swells breaky. We had two choices: paddle around or paddle through.

I was torn, but choose to go with the paddle around crew. We got to play a little on the far side where the swell was a little less pushy.

It turned out that the paddle through group wound up having to paddle around as well. Things got a little too shallow for comfort at the exit point.

Once I shook the cobwebs out, it was a nice day on the water. I am looking forward to a long paddling season with many group trips.

Foggy

Most years our club plans a paddle from Gooseberry Pt. in Westport to Cuttyhunk Island. It is a seven mile, open water crossing. It also involves crossing a major commercial shipping lane. I frequently get placed on the list of coordinators and I always think it is scheduled too early in the year.
Open water crossings of more than a few miles should be undertaken with a respectable cushion.In early June the water in Buzzards Bay is still cold enough to make a drysuit prudent, but the air temperature is warm enough to make hours of sustained paddling in a drysuit misserable. Most paddlers have only been on the water for a few weeks and have not really begun doing long paddles. The disparity between air temperature, land temperature, and water temperature cook up morning fog and afternoon winds.
The forecast for today was patchy morning fog, blistering temperatures, and building winds. TM even called last night to point out that the prevailing weather pattern was ripe for thunderstorms.
H made me promise not to attempt to paddle to Cuttyhunk in blinding fog. She wanted me to be the smart one.... Any paddle where I need to be the smart one is likely in trouble. I sometimes have a hard time listening to my inner voice of reason.
When I pulled into the parking lot at Gooseberry Pt. visibility was well under a 100 yards and I had no intention of getting my kayak off the car without a plan that didn't involve making a risky crossing.
As the other people showed up, the fog began to lift. Seeing as the forecast was for the fog to burn off and I was definitely going to do some paddling, I started getting ready to hit the water.
By the time everyone was ready to launch, the fog had thickened. Visibility was 10 yards to 20 yards. CC and I expressed serious reservations about the crossing. I, personally, thought the idea of attempting the crossing was crazy. It was not so much a navigation problem because I had a GPS. I could easily find the island. It was a safety issue. We would not be able to see a ship, and the ship wouldn't be able to see us, until it was too late. There is also the general sense of disorientation that fog can cause.
The majority of the group decided that we should paddle out to the edge of the shipping channel and then evaluate the visibility issue. The group had a bearing to paddle on and felt that we'd see the channel marker before we entered the channel. CC and I pointed out that given that paddling on a bearing in limited visibility and hitting a tiny marker several miles off shore was not reasonable. So, the plan was modified. We paddled on the bearing for 20 minutes and then reevaluated.
The fog had not cleared up in the least. We could hear boats, but couldn't see a thing.
So, we reversed our bearing and paddled back towards shore. The new plan was to paddle back to Gooseberry Pt. and then make our way along the shore towards the mouth of the Westport River. Once we got to the tip of Gooseberry Pt., the plan changed and we decided to make a crossing to the mouth further off shore.
It was a nice paddle. The fog and cool water kept the air temperature in the low 70s. The water was just bumpy enough to make it fun.
About 3/4 of the way to the mouth of the Westport River, we decided it was time for lunch. We spotted a nice section of beach that was unoccupied. We didn't want too many people on the beach as we surfed in on our kayaks. The surf was small, but even small surf makes landing an adventure.
During lunch the group decided that the plan for the afternoon was to paddle up the mouth of the river, then paddle up the river (against the current), into the marshlands beyond the town boat ramp, carry our kayaks (that are heavy and awkward out of the water) across a road, and finally paddle back to our cars. It was reported to be a very pretty paddle.
It was a very pretty paddle. The shelter of the river basin knocked the winds down. The fog had finally burned off and turned into haze. The effort of fighting the current made me work just hard enough to make my dry top into a sauna. Fortunately the company was excellent.
While people were disappointed that we didn't make the crossing, I think the group made the correct choice.
We could have attempted the crossing and likely would have been fine. I did hear someone mention that it was probably not foggy out at Cuttyhunk. Others mentioned that we had made the crossing in fog once before and it turned out to be perfectly sunny on the island.
On the other hand, why take the risk? We did not know the weather on the island. The weather on the island did not change the fact there was limited visibility in the shipping channel. The previous time we made the crossing in the fog, the visibility was much better than we had this morning. I was also younger, stupider, and had far less responsibilities.
Cuttyhunk will be out there for as long as any of us can still paddle. There is no rush.

A Lovely Ending

December has been a tough month for me in terms of getting on the water. The Q-Boat was in the shop for a few minor repairs (new deck lines, repairing a section of shoddy seam tapping, and one more attempt to fix the leaky back hatch). It being the holiday season, H and I had a number of visiting commitments that fell on weekends.
Today was the only day that looked clear. I needed to take a number of vacation days from work (use them or loose them policy) and one of H's friends was up visiting. I was clear and desperate to get on the water. I sent out e-mails trying to gauge interest and got a few responses. When I tried to firm up plans, I got silence. I was not surprised since it was Christmas Eve. I kept checking to see if anyone was going to join me.
As the hours passed, I started to get desperate and started thinking about doing a solo trip. I generally avoid solo trips for safety reasons - even in the warm weather - but I wanted to paddle. I could have taken the kayak up to Walden Pond (if it wasn't iced over and the parking lot was plowed), I could have found a local river to paddle, or I could plot out a very conservative paddle in upper Narragansett Bay. Or I would most likely listen to my sensible self and stay safely on dry land.
Christmas morning I saw CR and her husband's post that they would be paddling out of West Island in Fairhaven, MA on the 26th. I would be able to paddle!! Then I got an e-mail from PB asking if we should join CR. Melancholy turned to joy. I couldn't remember paddling in the area, but any time on the water was going to be great.
I got directions and set out early in the morning. As I neared the put-in the roads looked familiar, but a lot of back roads near water look familiar after awhile. PB was convinced that I had paddled here last year, but I was still drawing a blank.
The forecast was for a partly cloudy day with temps in the low 40s. It was a perfect day for winter paddling. PB, CR, and I set out into flat conditions with minimal winds. There was a bit of current, but it was not enough to be a factor. It was perfect for waking up my dormant paddle mind.
Slowly I began finding the rhythm of the blades in the water. I found the right angle of the stick and the right places to apply the power. My balance settled into place. The behavior of the Q-Boat started to feel familiar. After about a half-hour I was the groove. My muscles were achy from disuse, but they were happy.
The original plan was to circumnavigate West Island, but PB wanted to check out Ram Island. CR, who had the chart, altered our course accordingly.
The water was spotted with buoys and birds. There were pods of ducks that CR thought were eiders floating on the water.

Within a mile we were spotting seals. Then we paddled into the aquaculture pens and we were surrounded by seals. The seals kept a distance, but did not look shy. They would follow behind our kayaks. We paddled backwards for a bit to try and catch glimpses of them. CR sang to the seals which they seemed to like.
We lunched on Mattapoisett Neck. It was a feast of PB&J, chicken soup, tea, Christmas treats, and H's corn bread. The sun kept us from getting too chilled, so we didn't rush.
From the beach we could see Seal Island. It is a bunch of rocks covered with seals.
After lunch we plotted our return trip so that we would not retrace our steps and keep a safe distance from Seal Island. The course took us about a 1/4 mile north of Seal island. As we passed by, the seals came along and checked us out. This batch of seals got even closer than the seals in the morning.
As we approached West Island we spotted more eiders. There was also a couple of buffel heads. The buffel heads were easy to spot because they stayed clear of the main group and because of the large white spot on the back of the male's head.
As we rounded the eastern point of West Island we spotted a seal hauled out on the rocks. We changed course to give it a wide berth and not disturb it. A little latter we were surprised by another seal that was hauled out on a random rock. We did our best to give it plenty of room. Fortunately, the seal didn't appeared to be bothered by our presence.
Back at the put-in, I tried a few rolls. I don't enjoy dunking myself in 40 degree water, but I feel like I must. A roll is a delicate thing and I think it is important to practice it at least once a paddle - especially in the winter.
The paddle was just what the doctor ordered. We had a beautiful winter day in MA. The distance was enough to make me feel it, but not enough to make me sore for days. The conditions were boring, but that is fine for a winter paddle. The seals made for interesting viewing. And the company was - as always - excellent.
Upon returning home, I got an e-mail from PB with a link to my blog entry about paddling West Island last year....
Here's looking forward to some great paddling in '08.

It's Been a LONG Time...

For some reason it has been hard to find time to get on the water this summer.... Life conspires to keep us wrapped up with other things.
After a several weeks of working on the house, being tangled up with work, and meeting non-kayak based social obligations, H & I finally managed to get back on the water for a paddle. We planned an unofficial show & go out of Gooseberry Point. The weather was perfect - sunny but not too warm. There wasn't much wind and the seas looked calm.
This meant that the parking lot at Gooseberry was packed when we showed up for a 10am meeting time. It was a good reminder about why summer paddles put-in at 9am. H & I kept our eyes peeled for parking spaces as the rest of the crew arrived. We were expecting three more cars - MA, Bubbles, and CC with Cam.
I really wanted to paddle over to the wreck off Gooseberry and Bubbles really wanted to head over to Allen's Pond. So, we decided to do both. We'd paddle over to the wreck first and then head to Allen's Pond for lunch.
I had a rough idea where the wreck was, but not an exact location. I knew that it was somewhere off Gooseberry heading towards the mouth of the Westport River. I figured we'd spot it as we paddled along. The rusting hulk is pretty large...

My lack of specificity gave Cam a chance to learn how his GPS worked. The screen showed a label that looked like it could be a wreck that was in the generally correct direction. Since nobody had a better idea, we followed the GPS and found a nice little rock garden....
From the rock garden, however, we could see the wreck. It is a pretty neat structure to paddle around. The ship (or possible barge) is split into two pieces that you can paddle between and around. The structure, and the rocks that caused the wreck, create some interesting water conditions.
Today the water was flat everywhere; so, after checking out the hulk we turned towards Allen's Pond.
At Allen's Pond we took an extended lunch break. H was glad to just have some time to lay on the sand. Bubbles played in the miniscule race at the mouth of the pond. CC and Cam explored the beach. MA did a little lounging and a little exploring. I did a little longing and a little playing.
After we were sufficiently lunched out, we headed back to the put-in.
Before getting off the water CC, Bubbles, and I did some rolling practice.
After a thoroughly enjoyable return to the water after a long, long absence, we all headed to the Head of the Westport for the Roll-Up and Rebuild event to support Carl and Sam Ladd's recovery from the fire that destroyed their inventory early in the season. The event was a great time. They had awesome food, good music, and a large crowd.

A Relaxing Start to the New Year

There is a group of paddlers who will paddle through the bitter cold of winter. I've even been blocked from returning to a put-in by an ice flow. So when the forecast for the weekend called for sun and balmy temps, it was a given that I was going to paddle. So when Paul e-mailed to ask if I wanted to paddle, my only question was "Where?"
I was looking for a chance to see some new stretches of coast and was pondering the North Shore (in Massachusetts). Paul suggested Fairhaven and West Island. Fairhaven is located along Buzzards Bay, just east of New Bedford, and offered a chance for some varied paddling conditions. The location had the added benefit of being within easy reach of RI based paddlers.
The put-in is easy to find and offers a sheltered launch area. However, it is at the end of a dirt road that is pitted with pot holes. The scene caused me a few flashbacks to the paddle that resulted in the drowning of my first egg. A friend and I parked in a very similar boat ramp in Gloucester, MA a few years ago for a nice relaxing paddle along the Annisquam River. When we returned, my car was sitting in a few inches of water. Before long the salt water was above the wheels. It was a long night waiting for the tide to go down so the tow truck would drive to the landing and tow my poor egg to the safety.
Today we were launching at close to high-tide so there was no chance of the parking lot flooding. Reassured that my car was safe, I set out along with Paul and the other paddlers. The plan was to circumnavigate West Island and look for some possible bumpy water out on the Buzzards Bay side of the island. The reality was that the water was flat. The biggest challenge we faced was trying, desperately, even delusionaly, to spot a seal. The only bumps we saw where the ones caused by running into each others kayaks.
One tricky thing about today's conditions was the temperature. It was in the mid to high forties which, while not balmy, is warm when you are wearing a drysuit and a couple layers of fleece. The water was also in the mid-forties which is chilly even when you are wearing a drysuit and a couple of layers of fleece. Dressing so that you don't over heat, but also have thermal protection in the event of a swim is a delicate balance. You don't want to be so warm that you sweat too much and are likely to suffer from chill when stopped for lunch or a break on the water. You also don't want to find yourself in the water without enough layers to keep you warm.
I opted for a pair of fleece pants, heavy wool socks, a polypro t-shirt, and a midweight rash guard under my drysuit. I also wore gloves and a fleece hat. Because my hands are always wet when I'm paddling, I need gloves to stay warm. I was comfortable for the most part, but I did get a little chilled at lunch.
It is always a little sad to have completely flat paddle, but it is also very relaxing. We had plenty of time to catch up, talk politics, and just enjoy being outside with good company.

Playing Hooky

When the weather gods hand me a sunny day after so much rain, and it happens to coincide with a scheduled paddle in a great spot, I have a hard time passing it up. I hedged my bets all week, kept an eye on the weather, and refused to let myself get too excited. Thursday afternoon, after Tim M. confirmed that he was going and the weather forecast continued to look like a gift, I e-mailed my boss and told him I needed a personal day. My boss is an Irishman with a keen respect for the occasional mental health day, so after a bit of ribbing, he gladly agreed.
Friday morning I pulled into the Westport boat ramp and had a brief moment of panic. All of the parking spaces were marked "trailers only." A quick phone call to H, who was being a good dooby and working, confirmed that I was at the right spot. Shortly after I got off the phone and started to nap, Tim M. pulled in, followed shortly after by Paul B. and Bob H.. With four cars it was easy to fill up a couple of trailer spots in a manner that seemed to appease the parking police.
The trip provided a good opportunity to play in currents and practice ferry glides. Carleen--who missed the paddle due to a babysitting emergency--picked a day where the river was running against us both ways. Fortunately, there was very light boat traffic, so we had plenty of room to play. On the way out we just did a couple of zig-zags to get out to the ocean. We were all itching for some swells and open water. On the way back in, we played in the currents for a while. There was a nice eddy along the sea wall so I would poke out into the current, glide into the channel, ride a few bumps, slip back into the eddy, make my way back to the top of the eddy, and repeat. Tim and Paul mostly just hung out gliding around in the current.
The ocean portion of the trip had something for everybody: swells, wind, long haul paddling, rocks, and rescue practice.
We paddled out to the Marsh whose name I forget. There was a nice wind in our faces that kept the heat at bay and the swells up. That area of the coast has a lot of interesting features that Tim M. explained to us. There are a few exposed rocks to create little breaks, but we hung pretty far out to sea. We lunched by the marsh and soaked up the sun after a few embarrassing mini-surf landings.
The launches also offered a bit of comedy. The beach was just steep enough and the surf just big enough to breach my boat before I could get the stern afloat. Finally, with a few shoves from Bob H. I did manage to get off the beach.
On the return trip, we decided to make the trip a bit more exciting. It was rock time. There is a nice big rock formation right by the beach that we played dodge the waves with a couple of times before turning homeward.
We decided to stick a little closer to shore and see if we could find any safe rocks to play around and not get our knoggins bashed.
All went well until Bob went in search of a surf wave... The next thing we know there was a bright yellow spot where Bob should have been. Nobody, including Bob, knows exactly what happened, but we had a swimmer near a wave break and rocks. This is where rescue practice pays off. Bob held onto his boat and paddle; I spun around, locked up his boat and started the rescue; Paul B. clipped his tow-line into my bow and pulled us away from the rocks. In short order, Bob was out of harm's way and in his cockpit.
A bit later, I nearly got trounced by a wave. We were all trying to move outside a break and I was the innermost boat. A little wave crept up and forced a brace. Right behind it a bigger wave rolled in and took me for a ride. I managed to use my brace to stay upright and spin the boat so that I was facing down the wave. It was a roller coaster ride. While on the wave being pushed towards some rocks, I was terrified. Once safe, I was exhilarated.
We decided to test our luck once more on the rock formation just outside the mouth of the Westport River. There was a nice gap where the waves broke a little. Tim, Bob, and I all took several runs through it. Going out towards the waves was the easiest run because you could see what was coming. Going in was a rush because if you mistimed it, you could end up parked on a ridge waiting for the next wave to flip you or bash you into the rock. Tim actually got caught in the swirly on his first trip through, but held himself off the rocks.
I knew I had pushed my luck to the limit and decided to call it quits after four or five runs. It was a good thing too. While we were rounding the sea wall into the river a little breaker caught my boat just right and I had to brace in a hurry. It was definitely a sign...
The weather gods and the water gods shined on us.
Post paddle coffee was had at Tiverton Roasters--Great Coffee. The conversation was deep and thoughtful. Then the party moved to Evelyn's--a tradition reborn from its ashes--for fried sea food.

The Ying and Yang of Cuttyhunk

Some would say that paddling to Cuttyhunk this early in the season is crazy. Others would say that this is the perfect time to go. I sit squarely on the fence in this debate. Considering the level of exposure and the water temperature, it is early in the season for such a long paddle. Only people who have paddled over the winter are really in good enough shape to have the reserves to make it a safe trip if conditions go awry. (Note: I haven't paddle much over the winter.) On the other hand, the boat traffic hasn't picked up and most of the things on the island are open.
A group of 10 boats set out from Gooseberry Pt. to make the crossing. It was a strong crew consisting of Carleen, Carole, Alison, Ray B., Ray P., Jonathan, Bob H., Joe, Peter, and myself. As Carleen pointed out, it was a group of chiefs without many indians. That was all good for me because I was tired and more than happy to relinquish my leadership role.
When we put in the weather was ideal--mid-70s with a touch of wind. The forecast was for the conditions to hold until late afternoon when there was a chance of showers. Accordingly, we planned on being off the water by fourish and not spend too much time on the island.
Before setting out we had a pow-wow to get our bearings. It was decided that we would paddle over on a course of 155 magnetic and stick together as a group. After about a mile, we modified our float plan to follow a GPS based course. This worked out pretty well as it meant only Ray P. had to worry about where we were going.
The trip over was calm and uneventful. One of the odd things about long crossings is that they can be boring. All there is to do is paddle in a straight line for a few hours. There isn't even much to look at in the middle of Buzzard's Bay. We did see some nice barges.
A long straight paddle on mostly flat water does have a few pluses. It gives you plenty of time to chat with friends without having to really worry about paddling. It also provides a nice patch of Zen paddling where you can lose yourself in the slight sway of the boat and the repetition of the swinging blades. I found it very peaceful and reinvigorating. By the time we got close to the island the fog of waking up early had pretty much burned off.
After lunch and talking to the few interested bystanders about our voyage, the group set off to explore the island. I decided to hang with the boats. As I sat under the flag pole I noticed the flags sticking straight out and fluttering. A passer by saw the boats and asked about the wind. Nonchalantly, I pointed out that it was blowing our way. It looked like the wind would be at our backs on the way home.
Once out of the harbor, it became apparent that I was wrong. Instead of a tailwind we had a beamy headwind and it was kicking up some nice 2-4ft swells. Paddling back in those conditions is a challenge no matter how in shape you are or how skilled you are.
The other thing about long open water crossings is that they can be intense. They are unpredictable and, because there are few bailout options, challenging. They test you physically and mentally.
Physically you must be prepared to stick it out until you can get to shore, which in this case was 5 miles. You must also have the skills to keep your boat upright and on course. On top of that, you must be able to have a little left in reserve to help put in the case of an emergency.
Mentally you must believe that you can do it. You must listen to your fear, but not let it overwhelm you. You must stay alert to what is happening to your kayak and be aware of what is happening to the other kayaks in the group. You must be alert and relaxed at the same time.
Joe took charge of the situation, put Ray P. at point, and admonished the group to stay together. Ray set out at a decent clip and the rest of us fell in line behind him. Despite the fact that keeping kayakers in a group is a bit like herding cats, we managed to stick pretty close together. We meandered a bit, but given the winds and the swells most of us did pretty well.
Shortly after the island was behind us--and I developed a need to pee--Peter started having troubles. He was in a new boat, had sun screen in his eyes and an upset stomach, and was having trouble keeping the boat on course. Joe hung back with Peter and kept him going. Other members of the group also did a good job of checking in with Peter and helping out. Peter, for his part, did a great job of working through his troubles.
One thing a slow paddler does to a group, however, is tend to stretch it out. The pace Ray P. set was brisk and the head of the group kept getting ahead of the tail. This meant that we had to stop a few times to regroup.
This is a common problem in larger groups when there are conditions--10 is a large group. The point doesn't always, or cannot always, look back to see how the tail is doing. The wind makes it hard to communicate and using a radio while trying to paddle, brace, and steer is not so easy. People begin to concentrate on getting themselves safely home. One of the joys of kayaking is that it is easy to be alone in a group, but that is also one of the dangers.
While the paddle back was tough, it was fun. It was nice to have the opportunity to put some of that practice to use in real, but manageable, conditions. The adrenaline was also good. The fact that we all made it back to the beach safely without any swimmers made it even sweeter. I also managed to pull off a roll before landing and making a mad dash for the porta-potty. (I tried to pee in a bottle while in the boat, but just couldn't do it...)