01/06/00 Paddling Upper Islands:
Arriving at the River Breeze Park put in around 9:15am, I unloaded the kayak and was prepared to load it back up again as dark storm clouds rolled in. It was deja vu all over again.
Yesterday I pulled into the park under heavy winds, but as I neared the ramp two pelicans flew past, I could see an egret eyeing its breakfast on the opposite shore and a hawk or buzzard was soaring around off in the distance. Well, maybe the wind isn't really blowing 'that' hard. Against my better judgment I unloaded the kayak and when was unloading the gear when two fishermen came in and had trouble docking because of the wind. That did it for me and I loaded back up and left.
Today, while the storm clouds were building, they didn't seem overly threatening and it had been several days since I've been out. I just got the rain gear out of the forward hatch and slipped it under the aft bungies and turned downstream into a 10 knot wind.
I thought we should be at about low tide as I passed out of the ICW over a sand bar into a quiet bay 0.25X0.50 miles in size. On the extreme northern part of Mosquito Bay are a hundred or more small islands surrounded by a reasonable amount of water. By that I mean there are more than just tiny little channels weaving through the islands, more like small rivers. This is where I was paddling today.
The bottom was firm, hard packed, white sand so if I was wrong about the tide and got stranded it should be pretty easy walking over the bar. As I entered the bay I noticed a primitive campsite and supposed there were many others on the various islands.
I had on new polarized sunglasses that made the stormy skies seem even more foreboding. I had been getting mild headaches on sunny days. My tinted eye glasses do a good job indoors and out but they just aren't strong enough for on the water. I tried a couple pairs of frameless sun glasses but the nose pieces kept coming off and I'd loose them. I finally found a pair with frames and will wear them with Croakies so I don't loose them overboard.
The islands had varying vegetation. The shoreward islands had lots of loblolly pines, live oaks, cabbage palms, palmettos and scrub brush with nothing over 10 feet in height. Islands farther out had a ground hugging bush similar to the blueberry bush, with many small dead trees rising above them. Many of the trees had a bird of prey or a wading bird perched in the dead branches presenting an eerie sense of death and doom, especially silhouetted against the storm clouds in the background.
As I paddled around the bay the sandy bottom gave way to mud and I could see sea gull tracks on the bottom. That probably was not a good sign about how much water would be left at dead low tide. I decided if the lone fisherman at the other end of the bay left, I was leaving too. I couldn't tell which way the current was moving because the wind was dominating the surface.
A 6 inch puffer fish went by, apparently gasping for air. I don't think it was playing dead and suspect he had been caught by one of the fishermen and released in a less than gentle manner. My guess is he was actually fighting for his life.
I decided to investigate an island with palm trees on it a half mile away. After 20 minutes I decided you can't get there from here. Every time I went around a bend expecting a channel I'd find a little cove or another bend.
I still didn't know in which direction the tide was going. The whole time I was paddling in 1-2 feet of water. The vegetation here was encouraging though. It was kinda mossy and didn't appear to be the kind that would every be exposed to the air. I hoped.
Rather than try to retrace my route or try to find a new one back to the ICW, I chose to paddle to the other side of the islands where I expected to find a deeper channel near the peninsula. From there I thought I would paddle a mile or so down to the open waters of Mosquito Lagoon and then come back up the ICW from there.
As I neared the far shore, I started seeing clouds of sand, rather than the little puffs of a few days ago made by sting rays. I assumed they were fish a foot long or so. When I scared up a dozen or so at once they made a fair commotion as they made a hasty retreat. This kinda confirmed that belief.
I soon saw a nice wide channel to the palm tree island but really wasn't interested in that any more. When I broke out of the shallow, vegetation filled water into 2-3 foot water, it was like being released from quicksand without that constant drag on the boat.
While having lunch I saw a smaller hawk I though might be a Peregrine Falcon. Why? No reason except it was much smaller than the other hawks I was seeing and I believe they do winter in these waters. They're also an endangered species.
I was rounding the outer islands facing the open waters of Mosquito Lagoon when I saw a very large (to me) sting ray moving out of the shallows into deeper water and directly at me. I don't know who was more surprised, me or him. Probably him as he made a 90 degree turn and tried to burrow under the vegetation. Of course by the time I stopped, got the camera out, turned around, he was long gone. This guy was 1.5-2.0 feet across and a darker gray.
It had been cloudy and overcast all day. The wind died down a little but the storm clouds were building up again. Off in the distance, I could see a couple of larger power boats and could assume that was the Inter Coastal Waterway.
As I was turning into the ICW I passed over another large sting ray. This one didn't even flinch as I drifted by so I kept an eye on him as I stopped, got the camera out, turned around and maneuvered back to him. The bottom was white sand and he stood out clearly as I snapped a picture from directly over top of him. The zoom was all the way out and the picture will probably just show a big gray nothing though.
I slowed down and was paying so much attention to the bottom I was 15 feet from a raccoon out in the shallow water digging for dinner before I saw it. He saw me and was watching me intently as his feet kept on kneading the bottom, in search, I presume, of clams. Since he just stood there looking at me I snapped his picture too. This one I got dead center and will be as good a picture as I take.
All in all, this paddle turned out to be more interesting than I had thought and offers a lot of potential for future paddles. I saw fewer birds than I have the past few days but couldn't say I was disappointed in their numbers though. You'd need at least a week to fully explore all the nooks and crannies but you could probably do so without fear of being stranded by the tide.
01/08/00 Paddling Upper Islands:
Mosquito Lagoon is surrounded by the Canaveral National Seashore except for the one section on the mainland I put in from the other day. The Kennedy Space Center and Cape Canaveral lie immediately to the south.
This morning I drove out to the peninsula and was shocked to find they wanted $5 for a day pass. Most of the National Parks I've been to offer a week long pass for $10. I turned around and left and then started thinking about the annual pass they were offering for $28. It includes the Merritt Island Wildlife Refuge, which is also immediately to the south so I went back and forked over the money. My plan, such as it is, calls for 2-4 weeks between Mosquito Bay, Merritt Island and Indian River, all of which are covered (more or less) by the pass.
The drive in through New Smyrna Beach was apparently through a retirement community. I felt positively rejuvenated as I watched all the old(er than me) geezers out for their morning constitutional. There were row after row of houses on this narrow strip of land between Mosquito Bay and the Atlantic. To get a view of one or the other, they were building porches and decks at roof level with stairways leading down to the lower levels. I hadn't seen that done before.
The park has several put ins, one at either end of the peninsula and a couple on the mainland. Instead, I put in at the information center, which involved a short carry. As usual the wind was blowing 10 knots from the north and as usual I headed into it.
This area is actually a little higher up in the island group I had paddled the other day. The nearer islands appeared nearly flat, covered with a short bush of some sort. Islands farther away (towards the mainland) had hardwoods, pines and palms.
A mile or so farther north, I seemed to be running out of water so hung a left into a smaller and deeper channel. I must be going in the right direction because the number of fishermen picked up considerably. Pretty soon it looked like a fairy heavily used street.
The wind continued to blow 5-10 knots and the tide was also trying to keep me from advancing. I just kept up a nice, easy stroke, trying to keep strain off of my left forearm and elbow where I'm trying to fight off tendonitis. I've also been holding the paddle much looser and using less power. I probably don't go as fast but a) I'm probably not going that much slower and b) I'm not in a hurry anyway so why strain myself?
After a couple of hours it was time for lunch and I pulled into a small white sand beach surrounded by palm trees. The sun really pounded on me and felt like it might be in the mid-80's. I applied a liberal amount of sun block before hitting the water again. The PFD was placed under the rear bungies as was the spray skirt until I realized how hot that sun was on bare legs. In January, you ask? Why of course, this is Florida, not the frozen north.
I was tired of the power boats zooming by so headed off into the maze of islands. Immediately, I apparently entered some deeper water because right in front of me was a dorsal fin. A minute or so later I spotted a second, larger fin. This one was split right down the middle with the 2 halves flopping in different directions. My guess is it was a male who had been in a fight with another dolphin during the mating process. I don't know where these guys came from unless it was from Ponce de Leon Inlet a few miles to the north. There are no openings to the ocean to the south.
I had been paddling into small coves and dead end bays when I glanced at the compass. I thought I had been heading in a generally north and west direction but the compass said southeast. What? I thought I had a pretty good sense of where I had come from but the compass completely disagreed. I got the GPS out to settle the argument. Since I haven't been using charts since I left Maine I (almost) always take a waypoint at the launch site.
Unfortunately it confirmed the compass reading but I still didn't believe it. I've always given in to the hardware when I don't agree. I know I have a lousy sense of direction but this time I was sure. It was still fairly early so I decided to follow my instincts rather than the GPS and compass. If I was wrong, there was still plenty of time to get back on track and I wasn't the least bit tired.
As it turns out, we were both right even though we were pointing in opposite directions. To get where I wanted to go I had to twist and turn through a few channels and I had forgotten about the hard left turn I had made early on. The GPS, of course, was pointing in a straight line to the launch site.
I scared up a dozen or so 12-18 inch sting rays, several of which I could see did have legs at the base of the stinger, on the way back. I was still poking around in the backwaters and followed one channel a half a mile or so before it dead ended. I saw lots of egrets, a few pelicans, a few blue herons and several hawks, a couple of which were quite large. They had white heads and I thought they might be bald eagles until I saw they also had white chests. When they lifted their wings, the undersides were white too. (01/11: Turns out they were osprey. They osprey I remember from Maine were smaller).
Oyster beds everywhere were playing grab ass with the bottom of my boat. I'm afraid to look at it now. I started cussing the oysters and threatened to come back tomorrow with a sack to stuff them in for steaming. I got my annual salt water fishing license which is supposed to be good for shellfish, crabs and shrimp too. I brought my clam rake along from New Hampshire and bought a collapsible crab cage. All I have to do is figure out where and how to use them. Apparently they catch shrimp with a net like they do shiners and minnows. When I figure out where they are I'll get one. I think I'll go shelling early tomorrow morning and then do a little surf fishing. I'll bring the chaise lounge and tie the line around my big toe in case things are slow.