Wind Meets Current and Surfing Ensues

This weekend was one of the big current weekends, so BH was chomping at the bit to play in any tidal races that appeared. Saturday had the added bonus of high winds that would run counter to the currents at least once. Strong wind vs. strong current = standing waves!!
BH really wanted to play at the Charlestown breech way. The wind and current profiles looked perfect for some mayhem. The ocean forecast called for some good sized swells multiply the mayhem. In order to play at the mouth of the breech way safely he wanted at least four paddlers. The mouth of the breech way is narrow and flanked by shallow rocks. The current would wash a swimmer into deeper water, but the wind would push them into the rocks.
As of Friday night, nobody had committed to the breech way plan. I was waiting to see what TM would do since he is the most familiar with the area (and in many ways is may paddling safety blanket). I was also a little concerned that conditions at the breech way would be more than our group was prepared to handle. TM was not planning on paddling since he had spent the last week in Georgia at Sea Kayak Georgia and wanted to spend some quality time with his family.
Since nobody wanted to commit to the breech way, BH proposed plan B: Stone Bridge.
Stone Bridge would be running out in the morning. With the wind pushing against the current, it promised to offer a nicely formed tidal race. Since Stone Bridge offers easy access, plenty of clear water for rescues, and quick exits from the water, we could play hard.
The only downside was the timing. Things were forecast to be at their best between 9am and 11am. That meant getting to Tiverton by 8:30am. That meant leaving Waltham at 7am. That meant getting the kayak on the egg Friday night before it started to rain.
We had a small, but well formed group Saturday morning. We started off with 5 paddlers: BH, PB, JS, CR, and myself.
We took our time getting on the water. At 8:30 things looked pretty calm. By 9am the race was starting to rock and we had all the kayaks in the water.
At first people rushed for the top of the race near the buoys. It looked like a good spot, but JS and I found ourselves at the end of the race. The waves at the tail of the race were pretty good as well. In fact, I think they were more regular. I caught plenty of good rides as I moved up the race.
A piece of advice from the death paddle in Fisher Island Sound came in very handy. One of the British coaches talked about timing waves by waiting for the wave in front of your kayak to start lifting the bow. Once the bow starts lifting, you hit it and catch the wave behind you.
It works amazingly well. I was able to catch most of the waves I wanted to surf using this advice.
I also learned another valuable lesson on the death paddle: use the stick. Despite this being a surf session, I used the mighty stick. I can brace, rudder, and roll just as well with the stick as I can with a lollipop. The only advantage of the lollipop is the bit of initial oomf. The familiarity and comfort of using the stick far outweighs the oomf. I'll continue to switch off and use a lollipop every now and then because I think it helps me be a well rounded paddler, but I'm a stick monkey.
We spent a couple of hours riding the race. I caught a ton of good rides. The most fun were the rides the ones where I nearly stalled out on the back of a wave, but just as the hull started to flounder I pushed the bow over the crest. With a quick transition the bow dropped down and the hull rushed forward.
We did take a short break to help a feckless sailor get his boat out of the water. He tried to take out at the public beach flanking Stone Bridge. The wet sand and lapping waves conspired to trap his boat and his truck. We all helped heave the sailboat onto the trailer where it had a chance of draining. Then, our good deed done, we went back to playing.
Sadly, CR tweaked her back and was forced to call it a day early. Hopefully, she recovers quickly.
The conditions made the early wake up call worth it. It is a rare and wonderful thing when the weather and tides conspire to make a playground for crazy kayakers.

You call that gale force?

After skipping a paddle the previous weekend, I wanted to paddle this one. When PB posted that the currents at Stone Bridge would be ripe for playing and that the winds were forecasted to oppose the current, I definitely wanted to paddle.
By mid-week, however, the forecast had gone from exciting to scary. Winds were forecasted to be in the 20-30 knt range on Saturday. CC sent e-mail around wondering if her friends were sane or crazy... I pondered the same thing myself.
Caution being the better part of valor, we should have decided to cancel the paddle. A 3+ knt tidal current is exciting, but potentially dangerous. 20-30 knt winds make paddling challenging and make it easier to get cold. Cold water is dangerous. Combine the three and it is a recipe for disaster. If a paddler came out of the cockpit, they could easily get washed downstream a good distance before a rescuer reached them. The potential for someone being in the water for 5 to 10 minutes is very real.
However, haste does make for wasted opportunities. There was still time for the forecast to change and haste does make waste. Stone Bridge also has a few features that makes it a perfect place to push things in otherwise foolish conditions: There is easy access to beaches on either side of the channel. The put-in is right next to the tidal race. It is easy to get out of the race and find an eddy in which to rest.
I decided the best course was temper my excitement, but still plan on playing in some monumental conditions.
By Friday, the forecast had actually deteriorated. It now called for 35knt gusts, 100% chance of rain, and thunder storms...
Paul posts that the paddle is a go. He makes it very clear that it will be a definite level 5. I decide to wait and see what things look like on Saturday morning...
When I dragged my carcass out of bed this morning, it wasn't raining and PB had not posted a cancellation. I checked the weather radar and saw that there was rain in the air, but not in our area yet.
So, I dragged myself into the bedroom to figure out the right combination of clothes to wear under the drysuit. I opted for a single layer of thermal underwear figuring the air temperature was in the 60s, the conditions called for pretty serious exertion, and I'd be near the car if I got cold. Then I tossed a hodgepodge of post paddle clothes into a dry bag.
I muddled my way through packing the proper gear into the egg. I decided not to bring the newly restored mighty stick. It is not the best tool for paddling in monumental conditions and I didn't really want to risk breaking it again.
I roused H for help loading the Q-Boat on the roof. After we secured the kayak on the roof, she reminded me to get the key for the Lendal paddles. It was secured to her PFD and her whistle in a tangle of thin yellow twine. If I had my knife handy... Instead I fumbled around unraveling the mess.
I finally got out of the driveway 20 minutes later than I planned. To make up some lost time, I decided to skip my usual coffee stop. I figured I could always get my fix at Coastal Roasters since it is a short walk from the put-in.
Immediately after I got on Rt. 24 I could feel myself fading. Focusing on the road was a struggle. I had to stop at the rest area for coffee even if it was Dunkin Donuts coffee.
After purchasing my caffeine fix, I checked my phone to see if the paddle was still a go. TM had left me a message saying that he was not paddling today, but he would meet us at the put-in. Apparently his morning had been a little to hectic....
When I finally arrived at the put-in the sky was grey, the wind was mild, and the race was flat. PB, BH, JS, and HDT were discussing what to do. CR stopped by to give us a little grief and invite over to OSA for post paddle cider. TM showed up to wish us all well and chat.
It was about then that PB decided we should at least take a warm up paddle around Gould Island. So we unloaded the kayaks onto the beach, donned our dry suits, encased our knoggins in helmets, assembled our paddles, and hit the water.
Once on the water, I knew something was not right. I felt a little too tippy. My back and shoulders were stiff. I figured it was just kinks from not paddling in a few weeks. After a little bit of warm up, I'd be right as rain.
HDT, BH, and JS decided to pass on the warm-up paddle. They headed straight for the tidal race.
The race current was fast and strong, but it was flat. We all did a little playing near the red can. I actually got a little too close and dinged it with my bow.
I was feeling a little better, but still not right. I decided that I wouldn't push it unless the conditions grew to epic levels. I just paddled around taking pictures and movies with my new Option W60.
At one point the fog slammed down on us. JS and BH were playing in the current and I went looking for PB who was hanging out towards the tail of the race. One minute it was grey and cloudy, the next minute I couldn't see beyond the tip of my bow. I got completely disoriented. When the fog suddenly lifted, I was shocked to see where I was.
A little while later I saw TM return from his trip to Osprey Sea Kayaking. He climbed out onto the end of the jetty to see what we were doing. It was then that I noticed that BH and JS were surfing some nice waves.
The wind and currents had finally synched up to create some nice wave action. PB and I headed into the race to catch some rides. The first time through the race, I nearly speared PB. A caught a nice wave and the nose of the Q-Boat veered to the left and straight at PB's torso. I didn't want to dump, so I decided to try emergency maneuvers. I dug a rudder in and leaned hard. Fortunately, I managed to force the bow to continue its left turn and miss a collision.
The second time through the race, PB and I actually did collide. He caught a nice wave in front of me. Then I caught a nice wave that I thought would push me to the left. Instead the Q-Boat's bow cut right and towards PB's back. I was able to control the turn enough to miss PB's body, but not enough to miss his hull. The Q-Boat's nose slid up onto PB's rear deck. I had visions of us getting stuck together and one of us going for a swim. Luckily, PB's kayaked squirted out from under my bow and back into the waves.
I caught a few more rides and decided to call it a day. I still wasn't feeling on top of my game, and didn't want to push things too much.
The epic conditions never materialized, but that was OK. I wasn't ready for epic conditions today. I would likely have tried to test my meddle against the conditions had they materialized, and quickly realized I should have stayed on dry land.
The conditions that did materialize were perfect. I got a chance to get in the kayak and play in some waves. It was perfect.

Crossing Stone Bridge

We finally got a day where the currents and the weather lined up enough to give us some opportunity to play at Stone Bridge. H, who was feeling the effects of paddle withdrawal, even joined us.
TM planned the day so that we would get some calm water paddling in before lunch and then play for a little while in the afternoon.
The morning paddle was pleasant. We meandered our way north for a few miles. At the point where the Sakonnet River splits off into Mt. Hope Bay, we turned back for lunch. It was a nice way to warm up. The paddling was leisurely and the weather was perfect.
After lunch, we headed out to the race for some play. The current was pretty tame. H spent a little time getting a feel for moving water. A number of us tried to find some standing waves to surf. Sadly, there wasn't much there.
JS showed people a few good drills for doing eddy turns. The best was trying to cross the eddy line backwards. Most people took a swim trying it. What caught me up was the lean. My natural instinct is to lean the wrong way. The result is the edge gets caught in the current and over I went. Even when I tried to fix the proper lean direction in my mind before backing into the line, my first move was wrong. I had a hard time learning to drive in reverse too.....
Before heading back in, JS got most of us to practice our rolls in the current. Just about everyone managed to come back up.
Despite the mild conditions in the race, it was a fun day on the water. (Is there ever a bad day on the water?)

Return to Old Stone Bridge

The lunar cycle is 29.53059 days which means that every 30 days the moon is full. For those nautically inclined, it also means the bigger than average tides happen every 30 days. Big tides equals big tidal currents.
The full moon was Friday the 26th, so the currents at Old Stone Bridge promised to be fast on Saturday the 27th. I posted a practice session and bristled with anticipation for the chance to play. As Saturday approached, the weather aligned with the currents to ensure a maelstrom.
It was rainy and windy when I showed up to a flooded put-in. The channel was already looking lumpy and the real action was more than an hour away. I wandered up to Coastal Roasters to get a coffee and wait for the rest of the brave (foolish) paddlers to arrive.
We got an excellent turn-out. There were eight kayaks and eight paddlers. Three of the paddlers were new to the group (Gerry, Rich, and Larry) while the balance of the group were RICKA regulars (TM, PB, PH, CR). The pre-paddle preparations included a talk by TM about being ready to rescue people. It also included TM asking me if I was going to wear a helmet. I was not because I figured there were no rocks around to squish my mellon. TM's question, however, made me rethink my plan and I plopped the helmet on my mellon.
We spent a little time near the beach getting loosened up and sizing up the maelstrom in the channel. It was perfect. The winds was blowing up river as the water rushed down river. Waves boiled up at irregular intervals. The eddy lines were clear and full of whirlpools. The bad weather kept the fisherman to minimum so the area was clear of fishing lines.
It didn't take long before the group drifted into the thick of things. We spread out across area. TM wanted to spend time practicing boat handling skills in the eddies. The Ps wanted to dive right into the standing waves. I wanted to work on boat handling skills in the the maelstrom. The others all found there own spot to work. The area was dynamic. You could be sitting in relatively calm water just on the edge of the really big stuff. It was easy to slip out to get a quick breather. It was easy to slide along the side and slip into the really big stuff. There was a section in the center that would flatten out and offer a rest every so often.
It didn't take long before somebody went in the drink. Larry was playing near the evil bouy and flipped. I was in the center of the channel about 10 yards away, so I turned to make the rescue. I edge the Q-Boat a little too much, however, and also flipped. I set up my roll facing down stream and popped up with too much ease. I went over the other side. I set up my roll on the upstream side and came up just enough to get some air. It felt like the Poseidon grabbed the might stick and pulled it under. I pulled the loop and became a second swimmer.
Gerry was on me in a flash. He made sure I was OK, assessed the situation, and decided to tow me into calmer water before trying to put me back in the kayak. He latched on the Q-Boat's bow and starting towing the upside down kayak closer to the beach. It was a struggle because kayaks are not designed to travel through the water upside down... Once I was in calmer water, TM did a t-rescue to put me back in the kayak. The water was rough enough, the I managed to bounce my helmeted mellon off the Q-Boat's hull and TM's hull a few times.
Hardly shaken, I rushed back into the fray. Before long, I got to repay the rescue. Rich went over and I was in perfect position to rescue him. I decided that the water was calm enough to do the rescue. The boiling water and standing waves made it tough to get a good grip on Rich's kayak, but once I had it firmly in hand the rescue went smoothly. It was not text book, but it was successful.
Paddling in those types of conditions is tiring and we decided to take a break after about an hour. We drank some water, ate some snacks, and drained the water out of our cockpits. We also got a chuckle TM trying to squeeze into Rich's Nordkapp LV. TM's memory of the Devil Boat needed a little refreshing. Fortunately for all of us, TM couldn't squeeze in to the cockpit. We would have spent the rest of the morning pulling TM out of the drink...
After the break, I decided to spend some time experiencing the eddies. They were very clearly defined and pocked with whirlpools. I practiced crossing the eddy line without getting completely turned around. It was a challenge trying to figure out which combination of strokes and edging worked most effectively. I tried sweep strokes to counter the initial punch of on the bow, followed by a stern rudder to straighten out. It was only partially effective. I tried starting with a stern rudder, but that failed completely. The trouble was countering the initial punch to the bow. The force of the current rushing downstream wanted to push the bow downstream with and the stern of the Q-Boat offered little resistance. In the end, all that really seamed to work was finding the best angle to attack the line and digging the edge in to arrest the turn.
The whirlpools were fun. I'd stick my bow into the edge and it would push the nose around and a well timed switch to the other edge of the hull would keep the spin going through the full 360. The centers of the whirlpool looked mean. They dropped a good foot or two, and, while I'm sure they didn't have the force needed to suck the Q-Boat to a watery grave, I was not about to go sticking my bow in their to find out.
After playing in the eddies, I wanted to get back out into the boil. I slipped across the eddy line, go tmy bow pointed back up stream, and let the current suck me down between the cans. Once there I worked on holding my position and playing on the waves. It was fun until I found myself upside down. Disoriented, I set up my roll on the upstream side. It was like moving through gello and I barely got enough air to catch a breath. I slipped back under the water laying on the back deck. I felt a little panicky and just grabbed for the loop.
Needing to be rescued twice in one day didn't sit well with me. I felt like I hadn't kept my center when I most needed to keep it. After a short rest, I set out to practice rolling in the midst of the maelstrom. I was going to master the situation even if mastery meant swimming. I enlisted PB to spot me and headed back up the flow.
Along the way, PH hopped in front of me trying catch a few good rides. I found myself sitting next to him in one of the random calm spots until the boiling started. PH went over and tried to roll. Before I could get over to him, a wave picked me up and shot me forward. Fortunately, PB and several of the other paddlers were right behind us.
A smart paddler would have waited for his support to regroup before attempting to roll in conditions that had resulted in two previous rescues. I'm not always smart. I flipped myself over, made sure I set up downstream, and rolled upright. Not happy with just one, I did it again. And again. Then I set up parallel to the current and rolled up. Still not satisfied, I set up facing upstream and struggled back upright. To prove to myself that it was not a fluke, I went over again and set up facing upstream. When I finished the roll with my head still in the water, I felt the panic start and let it wash through me. Then I switched sides and rolled into the sweet air.
It was time to end the madness and land the kayak. I had regained my confidence. I had pushed my luck enough. I was exhausted. Everyone else was heading in as well.
We'd only been on the water for three hours, according PB's GPS, we'd only traveled about four miles, and we'd gained a incalculable amounts of experience. Getting a feel for confusing conditions, waves, and currents in a controlled area with a good group is a rare pleasure. The rescues made the day even better. Knowing that the others in the group can catch you if you fall boosts your confidence to push the limits and grow.

The Evil Buoy at Old Stone Bridge

TM has been talking about doing extreme paddling all season and he had finally spotted the perfect conditions. The currents whipping through Old Stone Bridge in Tiverton are pretty strong and today was a Spring tide. The max ebb current was forecasted to run about 3.5knts at around 11:15am. Because it is an ebb tide we'd get washed into the clear water heading towards Fogland. Because it's fall, the boat traffic would be lessened. Because it is forecasted to be sunny, the temperature would be pleasant.
After fretting for weeks about posting the paddle or making it invite only, we posted it. The more the merrier. The posting made it clear that this was strictly to play in the currents and that paddlers were going to need to spot each other.
Getting to the paddle was an adventure. Sometimes I drive on automatic pilot and this morning was one of those times. I operate the egg with full conscious attention, but navigate it with habit. So, when the time came to continue on Rt. 128 or take Rt. 95 south, I choose Rt. 95 south like I was launching from the western shores of Naragansett Bay. The deja vu set in quickly. Fortunately, I realized my mistake before I came to Rt. 495 and could quickly transfer back to Rt. 24 south without back tracking.
I pulled into the little beach parking lot off of Rt. 77 fearing I was going to be late. However, only TM and PB had arrived and they were having a leisurely conversation off to the far side of the parking lot. Slowly, others drifted into the lot. There was BH, RB, RR, and BD.
It was great to see BD. He is a great guy and we don't get to see him much. He is positive addition to any paddle.
We scoped out the building race by the buoys and decided to let it build a little more before getting on the water. We didn't want to wear ourselves out before the action really started. So, we decided to get coffee and take our time getting our stuff together.
I could have used more time. Because we were not paddling far from our cars, I decided not to worry about bringing my lunch, my spare paddle, my extra water, and a few other things. The one thing I did want to make sure I had was my tow belt. If someone got in trouble, it would come in handy. So I put it around my waist while I was getting the rest of my kit sorted out. When I got ready to clip the end of the belt to my PFD, I discovered that the carabiniere that I used to clip onto other kayaks was gone. I scoured the beach to no avail. Fortunately, PB had a spare. (PB is always saving someones bacon.)
Finally, I got on the water and got a chance to check out the race. The current was moving at a good clip, but there were no standing waves of stature. The wind was blowing in the direction of the current and effectively flattening things out. There was still a good half hour before max flow and nobody seemed particularly worried about the lack of big waves.
We all took opportunities to practice eddy turns, ferry glides, and paddling against the currents. It was exhilarating and exhausting. The best place to practice eddy turns was on the west side of the channel near the green buoy. The green buoy is evil and draws kayaks straight towards it. Practicing the eddy turn required that you either turn very sharply to pass outside the buoy or wide to pass inside the buoy. Paddling in the race required constant attention because swells bubbled out at random. The evil buoy was always laying in wait for a paddler to make a mistake.
Fortunately, it was easy to get a rest. To either side of the channel that remains of Stone Bridge creates eddies and a nice back current. We could duck out of the race, or wash out the back of it, and easily paddle back up the edges. It also meant that a paddler was always out of the melee and acting as a safety valve for the others.

The best conditions of the morning were provided by a mini-ocean liner. It steamed up the channel and left a lumpy mess in its wake. We were waiting like gnats along the edge of the channel as it passed through. Immediately after the ship was clear we darted into the soup. For five minutes it was a mass of confused waves and moving water. A few other power boats wakes added fuel to the cauldron.
Once the cauldron calmed, we believed the show was over. To cool down, we paddled around Gould Island and headed back to the beach. Just off the shore RR practiced his rolling and balance bracing. I did a few rolls. BD headed home. The others did various practicing. It was early and the weather was just too nice to quit early.
The race sympathized with our plight and bubbled up once more. BH, RB, PB (no relation), and I headed back into the fray for round two. This time around the conditions were more consistent and the evil buoy was more active. It was swirling around and sucking kayaks into its orbit with malicious glee. Of course, the best conditions were positioned on the edge of the evil buoy's reach. BH was the first one to be chased by the evil buoy. Shortly after BH had escaped, I had to spin the stick at a furious pace to escape it. Then as I and PB were watching, the evil buoy slowly dragged BH into its maw. Fortunately, BH heard PB and I talking about him, looked behind him, and started paddling for his life before it was too late.
After getting our fill of fun, we headed back to beach for some lunch. As we were heading in, TM and RR decided to head out for a second chance. Sadly, the currents and waves had subsided. There was still some moving water for practicing eddy turns and ferry glides, but not enough for serious playing.
We stopped for a spot of coffee at Coastal Roasters before going back to our homes for the evening. I was definitely satiated. The conditions were not raucous, but they were enough to seriously challenge me. My muscles were tired, my confidence bolstered, and my mind well fed.

Coffee, Fish, Currents, and Coffee

This is my last weekend as a bachelor and I wanted to spend it having a big adventure. The fates seemed to have a slightly different plan in mind. My original plan was to spend the weekend paddling the new RI blue water trail, but there was no place to stay at the end of the trip. The back-up plan was to paddle over to Block Island on Friday, circumnavigate BI on Saturday, and return on Sunday. However, this weekend is the end of Race Week and the only rooms available on the island are at the center of the Race Week drinking...
The plan evolved into spending Friday playing in the big currents off of Stone Bridge in Tiverton today and checking out the Fisher's Island race on Saturday. Neither place was going to be running at full steam, but the predictions were for enough current to make things fun.
The morning did not start auspiciously. On auto-pilot, I turned off of 128 to continue on 95 south to Providence when I should have continued on 128, which becomes 93 north (the engineering of space/time at this road junction is a feat of convolution.) It was not a huge problem because there are several ways to get back on track.
Then the phone rings... Bubbles is running late - he was just putting the gelcoat on the repairs (Bubbles' tussle with the rocks last week did a tad of prodigious damage to his Pintail). He was going to meet us at some point, but probably not for coffee. Maybe he'd meet us at lunch.
After getting off the the phone with Bubbles, I started to dial TM. Before I hit the Call button, I remembered that he had already left his house and, still living in the 70s, had no cell phone... TM would panic a little, but the speedy egg would get me there only a few minutes late.
At Coastal Roasters, I found TM enjoying an Americano and the superb view. I got a Coco Loco- espresso and cocoa powder melded into a magical smoothness. We sat, checked out the charts for the Fisher's Island paddle, and talked about the plan for the day. We'd put in under the Tiverton bridge, scope out Stone Bridge, paddle around, Gould Island and over to Evelyn's for lunch. After lunch, our bellies full of fried sea food, we would play in the currents.
Around 11, I decided to get my phone and call Bubbles. Before I got the phone out of the egg, the Bubble Box pulled up to Coastal Roasters. A quick look at my phone, revealed that while TM and I were enjoying coffee, the phone had been ringing off the hook. CC and H had both called looking for TM. There was a car crisis effecting H's paddle and CC wanted her spare Explorer back - if it was not on the top of TM's car.... Of course, it was. Everything worked out fine with a little help from our friends. CC borrowed a kayak from the Bomes.
All crisis resolved, TM, Bubbles, and I actually managed to get on the water. We paddled down past Stone Bridge and determined that the Coastal Roasters' side was going to be the easiest side to pass when the current was running. We then paddled around Gould Island.
Gould Island, or Ghoul Island, looks like something out of a Bond movie. We kept expecting the side of the island to open up and expel a menacing ship or divers to silently drag us under and into the layer of a maniacal madman.
Nothing exciting happened. The guano stench is more than any respectable madman would tolerate. The birds simply glowered as we passed.
At Evelyn's we settled into the outside dinning area and enjoyed the best Fish and Chips I've ever had. The fish was lightly fried and flakey. Unlike some other fried fish, this didn't ooze grease. Once past the crisp bread layer, it was yummy cod fish. The chips were just passable, but nobody really cared.
Paddling back into the Sakonnet River we were smacked in the face with a brutal head wind. It made paddling out of the pond and into the river a fair slog. It also made the prospect of facing the opposing current less than pleasant.
Fortunately when we turned up the river, the wind died to a reasonable level. The current didn't even look formidable. I feared an anti-climax.
Once at the bridge we were rewarded with a clear eddy. Bubbles paddled up into it, was pushed to the side a bit, and pushed through to the other side. I followed suit and almost got stuck. At one point I looked over and realized that despite paddling at full tilt, I was not moving. Then I looked over and saw TM being washed back down the river.
Bubbles and I slipped back into the current to play. There were a few small standing waves to ride. In the middle of the channel, I played with some rudder strokes. The sense of danger was provided by the fear of smacking into the buoys. It was thoroughly enjoyable. At one point, I was playing around in the center of the two buoys and heard a grotesque sucking sound. I looked over to the left and saw the green can slowly rising back out of the depths. It then rapidly vanished again.
After about 10 minutes of playing, Bubbles and I realized that TM was just sitting over near the moored sail boats on the far side of the bridge. We ferried across the current and joined back up with TM. Apparently, TM was a daunted by the current. He had a tough time of getting through because he was uncertain about how to handle the fact that the current, when the bow crosses the eddy, is immediately swept back down river. Nobody really talks about how to paddle up river and reacting to currents is the opposite of reacting to waves. Bubbles and I managed by acting instinctively. Bubbles used a quick rudder stroke to straighten out and paddled like the dickens. I used a sweep stroke to push the bow back into position and paddled like the dickens. TM, being a thinker, was trying to do the right thing but wasn't really sure what that was. Eventually, he decided that we had the right idea and just pushed his way through.
It didn't help that he was not used to the way the bow of the Explorer floats freely. Apparently, Valley kayaks are designed so that the bows stay locked in place and the stern floats. Looking at the front of the Q-Boat, with its sharp, prodigious snout, I can see how that is true. NDk kayaks are designed so that the bows float freely. TM's Aquilla, which he has paddled forever, is an old school Valley kayak and he is not used to the different feel.
After getting the kayaks back on the cars, we went back over to Coastal Roasters for some more coffee. We also planned out the next days trip in a little more detail.
We broke up just as the black clouds that had been building all day filled the sky. As I finished sealing myself in the egg, the sky opened.