01/18/00 Paddling Long Point:
I checked into the Long Point (Brevard) County Campgrounds above Sebastian Inlet yesterday and went looking for beach access. I learned an important lesson I hope I don't forget soon. Just because there's a little turnoff leading to a beach, doesn't necessarily mean it's a maintained roadway and it's easy to get bogged down in 6 inches or more of loose sand. No one was around to witness the display I put on in exercising my superior driving skills in extricating myself from that mess. Actually it was pretty much the same as getting unstuck in snow.
As I was passing through Cocoa Beach on route A1A I began seeing a long, stretched out line of bicyclists along the way. While setting up camp they began to trickle into the campground too. It seems they're mostly seniors signed on with an outfitter on a trip from Cocoa Beach to Key West over the next 10 days. About 50 of them were camped right next to me and guess who was between them and the bathrooms and the showers? I got to meet and chat with a number of them on their way back and forth. They seemed more talkative on the way back for some reason.
I had spent a lot of time last week trying to get good pictures of wood storks and Ibises. When I pulled into the campground several wood storks and several Ibises were walking around like they owned the place. A small pond right outside my tent had several pilings sticking up out of the water with brown pelicans perched on each one. I got a picture of one pelican sound asleep not 20 feet from my tent. His body is pointed in one direction and his head is turned around resting on his back, pointing in the other direction. The last campground had orange and grapefruit trees with fruit ripe for the picking, this one's a miniature bird sanctuary. (01/19: Of course this morning 6 spoonbills had to fly into the small pond in front of the tent and spend the morning swooping back and forth as they fed).
Launching from the Long Point boat ramp into the usual 10 knot wind brought me to several small islands creating a small protected cove. A dozen or so brown pelicans were perched on several trees on the lee shore of one island, well out of the wind while several Ibises and a Limpkin patrolled the shores in search of something good to eat.
I paddled out into the Indian River but turned into the first inviting little cove I came to and continued inward along a small channel. The banks were completely covered with cypress or mangrove or whatever trees. A small, bush like tree (01/22: mangrove) with waxy, rhododendron looking leaves and a long, slender, string bean like pod. They look like they have a whole lot of slender, barnacle encrusted roots supporting them and keeping them out of the water. The root things are actually branches growing down into the water. Some of these make the tree look like they're sipping water through a long skinny straw.
The channel opened up into a surprising amount of open water. Osprey came swooping down on unsuspecting fish and carried them off to dead trees limbs to polish them off. A couple of white pelicans cruised back and forth across the waters scooping fish up as they went.
I just drifted around in these backwaters for a couple of hours, had lunch, paddled a little ways and found myself almost back at the put in. I paddled out past the island with the roosting pelicans and they were still there, as were the Ibises. Going past the island I emerged into the Indian River with the northwest wind still blowing at 10 knots. With nothing better to do, I headed north.
I paddled against the wind 40 minutes or so when a pair of pelicans distracted me. I've been seeing 3 basic types of pelicans recently. The all white one with orange bill. The gray one with a white head and yellow top I'm being told is a brown pelican. And a brown pelican?
Except for the coloring, the last two are similar or identical in size and feature and I'm beginning to wonder if the brown one is an immature white headed one? Especially after watching these two this afternoon.
The brown one would trail behind the white headed one. The white headed one would dive and the brown would dive right beside it. At first I thought the brown one was trying to rip off the white headed one by stealing its fish. But this process went on for almost 10 dives. The white one would dive with the brown one right behind it and they would hit the water about 2 feet apart. It finally occurred to me the white headed one might be a mother teaching a mostly grown child how to fish. It works for me.
What didn't work for me was a bunch of large PVC pipes sticking out of the river. Obviously some kind of markers. Unfortunately they had no tops. A brown pelican was dangling from one with its bill stuck down in the opening. It had been dead for quite a while because you could see body parts starting to dry. I guess because of the awkward position, nothing else could get at it to eat it. Sad.
The wind was kicking up some 1.5 foot waves and it was good to feel some motion under me after all the flat water paddling. The Intra Coastal Waterways I've been paddling are all protected and non-tidal so, except for wind action, are pretty calm with little current. The Sebastian Inlet is a mile or so from here and I hope to paddle down there and out into the ocean to feel some swells under me again.
01/22/00 Paddling FL-510 South:
After a day of rest followed by 2 days of howling winds it was good to get out on the water today. I launched from the SR 510 boat ramp on the Indian River, 7-8 miles south of Sebastian Inlet. The wind was down to its usual 10 knots.
The atlas showed many islands upstream and downstream of the put in with little development. The wind was down to about 5 knots when I launched so I chose to go downstream and paddle against the wind on the way back.
This area is mainly mangrove islands with a silty, muddy bottom. The water was a cold 55 degrees and the air temperature was in the upper 60's. I followed each of the channels into the backwaters and often found a sizable amount of water back there. There was, however, little more than the mangrove trees and the muddy bottom. Very few birds, probably because the water was too deep for wading and not much going on in the water either.
I ran into a couple of oyster beds. I'd recently bought an oyster knife in preparation for a yet to happen feast some night. I decided to test it out on one oyster before taking a bunch of them for supper. It took a couple of minutes of digging beneath all the barnacles and outer growth to finally get it open. I think this may be a job requiring a heavy pair of gloves. I didn't take any because I'm not convinced anything growing in mud is going to be good to eat. The only information I've been able to get so far is cold water oysters (and clams?) taste better than warm water ones because they take longer to grow.
As the day passed and the tide started receding, birds started to appear. I first spotted a half dozen white pelicans drifting around in a back bay. A little later a bunch of brown pelicans showed up and a couple of them were diving for fish. An osprey flew overhead with a fish about a foot long. It was all the osprey could do to stay airborne with that load.
In one back bay I saw a head in the water moving pretty fast along the shore. Then a mink or a river otter lifted itself up out of the water a little for a better view of me. I tend to think it was an otter because mink are smaller than you think. I did see one of them crossing the road at Canaveral National Seashore. Some blue herons put in an appearance and a couple of egrets flew overhead but that was about it.
The sun was out all day. I keep hoping for some serious rain. These folks have been pretty dry down here for some time too. I have vague plans for going over to Lake Okeechobee soon and hope it isn't just a big mud hole by then. Some people I had met recently had their Okeefenokee Swamp reservations in Georgia cancelled because of drought.
Poking around in the backwaters was interesting but I didn't get lost or fall out of the boat or anything. Just a nice, quiet paddle.
01/23/00 Paddling FL-510 North:
Today was another bright, sunshiny day with not a hint of rain in the forecast. The plan was to put in from the SR 510 put in again, going north this time, instead of south. Another group of islands extend several miles upstream on the Indian River. I thought I might paddle north, into the prevailing northwest, 10 knot wind early on, making as much distance as I could and then explore the islands on the way back with the wind pushing me along. Maybe even get up to Sebastian Inlet, some 7-8 road miles away. Wrong!
Instead of from the northwest, the wind was blowing 10 knots or so from the southwest so I was being pushed along from the outset. After paddling 1.5-2.0 hours I found myself surfing as windblown waves passed under me and I made the decision to turn back. The wind was up to a steady 15 knots and I didn't want to overstress my left arm nor the surgical area so I turned back and began exploring the islands I'd already passed.
Overhead I saw a large number of turkey buzzards soaring around. At least 2 dozen of them kept making passes around a nearby island. Mixed in among them were several osprey. Where the turkey buzzard can hover in one place very gracefully, the ospreys, trying to maintain a constant position, had to flap their wings like crazy and then could only hold it for a short time.
Poking around the islands was pretty much the same as yesterday. Most of these islands were composed mainly of mangrove trees although some had some pretty tall conifers and some hardwood. The water seemed a lot deeper and I passed over several small oyster beds.
The islands protected me from most of the wind but I'd eventually hit a dead end, have to retrace my path and head south again in the open river, buffeted by the wind. At one point, hundreds of coromonts flew overhead heading in a northerly direction. Could this be the start of northerly migration? I'd never seen more than a dozen or so coromonts flying together before and certainly not in formation. Here were hundreds, flying in formation and there were several waves of them.
In open water I just maintained a nice, slow, steady stroke into 1.5 foot waves. The Indian River and the ICW make a branch to the left while I wanted to continue straight or to the right. I stopped at a green day marker at the narrow channel to let a couple of mid-size power boats go by tossing up 2 foot wakes. As I started across the channel, those 2 foot wakes were coming at me from abeam while the 1.5 wind waves came at me head on. That held my attention for a minute or so and made for an interesting ride. I hadn't had one like that for a couple of months and didn't even get wet (much).
Nearing the put in I saw a couple of dorsal fins and closed the distance on them a little. Then I saw there were at least 3, possibly 4 dolphins. One of them had the top third of its dorsal fin missing. I don't know how a wound like that would occur except from a power boat running over it. It didn't look like the type of injury that might be inflicted during a fight with another dolphin or a shark.
01/28/00 Paddling Sebastian Inlet:
Yesterday, I took the new Perception Acadia out for its Maiden Voyage. I was pretty satisfied with the test run but had hoped for some bigger water to see how it would react. Today I got my wish.
The past few days have been pretty cold and windy and the coming Super Bowl Sunday weekend are forecasted for heavy rains. This morning wasn't too bad so I decided to grab some paddling time before the window closed.
I launched from Long Point on the Indian River in the central part of the Florida east coast with Sebastian Inlet, a couple of miles down stream, the destination. Big black clouds hovered overhead but I didn't think they would dump on me. The forecasted storm was coming in from the west but the wind was blowing from the southeast at about 10 knots. That I didn't understand.
I got down to Sebastian Inlet through some 1 foot chop. The wind seemed to be blowing about 15 knots at the inlet. I sat there for a minute trying to determine a current but couldn't. The wind was the dominant factor. The 'plan' was to paddle out the inlet against the wind and then let it blow me back in.
Sebastian Inlet is a narrow, 50-75 yard wide, passage from the Indian River to the Atlantic. It's the only access to the ocean for 50 miles or so in either direction. Jetties, with fishing piers, project out into the ocean for about 75 yards or so. Surfers usually congregate on either side of the inlet.
There are no buoys in the inlet, just day markers, and with the chop caused by the wind, I couldn't see any eddies around them. So off I go, heading towards the SR A1A bridge that crosses the inlet. A couple dozen brown pelicans just sat on shore and watched me go by, probably wondering what's this guy up to?
I saw some breakers way up ahead but assumed they were out past the jetties or were crashing into the sides of the jetties. As I passed under the A1A bridge I saw some 1.5 waves directly in front of me. Cool, just what I wanted and paddled into them. The Acadia took them very nicely as I steered directly into them.
Then the waves were 2 feet high. Well, OK and the Acadia took them very nicely too. Then they were 2.5 feet. Hmmm, as the Acadia went over them too. Then the waves were 3 feet high and very steep and coming every 3-4 seconds. Uh oh, as I slowed forward progress and let the Acadia just ride up on the waves.
Then 2.5 foot refracted waves bouncing back off the jetties hit me from the side. Oh sh**! The Acadia is 27.5 inches wide so, other than some of the refracted waves engulfing the boat, it hardly wobbled. If I had been in the Looksha IV my cheek muscles would have been working overtime to maintain balance.
It was a pretty wild ride though and I was starting to feel like the Urban Cowboy rocking up and down and from side to side. The incoming waves were very steep and coming very fast, the refracted waves, less so.
This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I had wished for some bigger water. At this point I wasn't really paddling anymore, more like aiming the bow first into an incoming wave and then swinging it around to meet one of the refracted waves. After 30-60 seconds or so (an eternity) I saw a break in the waves and managed to turn around very easily. Again, the longer Looksha would have been much harder to turn quickly.
When I looked up at the bridge, it was 50 yards beyond where I expected it to be. It kinda looked like maybe the tide wasn't coming in after all because something (the current) had pushed me out very fast to meet those ever increasing waves.
After taking just a couple of strokes, I found myself surfing down the face of the steep, 3 foot incoming waves while keeping a close eye on the waves coming at my beam. Surfing was the only way I could make any forward progress. In the troughs between waves and when there was a break in the waves, the outgoing current prevented me from advancing on my own.
Because the waves were coming in so fast, I found myself surfing almost continuously and the incoming waves got me over the outgoing current until I got near the bridge again. There I saw a very large eddy behind one of the bridge trestles. Was that there when I went out? If it had been (and I saw it), I might have had a clue.
The closer I got to the bridge, the smaller the waves became again. Soon they were pretty much gone and I had to fight the current on my own, it may have been down to 2.5-3.0 knots at this point but petered out as I got inland of the bridge.
All in all, an interesting morning. I couldn't have asked much more of the boat and its capabilities will probably exceed my skill level. I didn't think to use the rudder for additional control, which is just as well because it was still fastened securely with its bungie.
As I was paddling out of the calm water part of the inlet, a couple ofl 20-25 foot power boats went up to the bridge, took a look and turned around and came back. I did warn one boat with a load of children and the guy indicated he had no intention of going out past the bridge. I watched him anyway until he turned back.
As far as the inlet, strong wind and tides moving in opposite directions do cause a lot of wave action. I had been told a couple of times this inlet can be very dangerous and people (surfers, kayakers, boaters? I dunno) die in it every year. I could see how easily that could happen to someone who lost their boat and wasn't wearing a PFD. I could just picture someone without a PFD being pushed and smashed around by those incoming and refracted waves. It wouldn't take long for hypothermia and exhaustion to set in. I can't imagine being able to make any kind of progress towards shore in those conditions. Someone else told me the currents in the inlet get up to 18 knots. I find that a little hard to believe though.
For me, I think it would be a great place to have fun, if there were a few experienced people around to help if you got into serious trouble. Just to get out there and bang around with those waves. I'd love to try self rescues or assisted rescues or the ever popular, everybody in the water rescue, in those conditions. It would certainly add a little spice to your life. As it was, the smart thing was to get these old bones out of harms way.
Thinking back on things, I realize how responsive the Acadia was to wave pressures. Whereas the Looksha IV could take a hit and remain on course, the Acadia might make a quarter or half turn from the same hit. I'll have to keep that in mind for future adventures.
Postscript:
I dunno about down south but up north we have a saying that cotton kills. It can also make you very sick. Yesterday was one of the few times I've not worn a synthetic T-shirt while paddling.
The first refracted wave that hit me caught my attention because it seemed pretty cold as it went up under my armpit. I didn't think too much about it then but did feel a little chilled as I paddled an hour or so back to the put in with a 10 knot beam wind blowing. The temperature was in the 60's.
Because the cotton does nothing to preserve heat, I guess I was chilled more than I thought. That night I woke up with a sore throat and when I came back from a paddle the next day, I had a good cold and a minor fever. These are the first signs of illness I've had in a couple of years and that includes camping out every night in all kinds of weather for most of the past 7 months.
I guess being in Florida and the warm winter and the sun and all, lulled me into a false sense of complacency. Hopefully this is another lesson learned.
01/29/00 Paddling Pelican Island:
Today's goal was to paddle from the SR 510 bridge, north to Pelican Island, about 5 miles away and explore the on shore islands and those in the middle of the river on the way back. Again, I was expecting a northwest wind and again, I was wrong.
I unloaded the kayak at the 20-30 foot wide ramp and pushed it all the way up against the pilings to be out of everyone's way. Don't you know this old guy starts backing down right on top of the boat. He wasn't going very fast and since I didn't believe what I was seeing I didn't say anything at first. But he kept backing down and backing down and I started yelling at him to look where he's going. And he continues backing down. Needless to say I'm starting to get a little excitable but finally he stops about 4 inches from the boat.
He gets out of the truck and says, "No problem, I saw it." He saw it? If he saw it why didn't he back down somewhere else? There's plenty of room for two trailers on that ramp. He's expecting me to launch right away but I had to get something out of the truck. And he asks me to move the kayak before I go so he can launch his boat. Well, I'm pretty laid back these days, so I just push the kayak into the water and float it to the other side of the ramp. Another guy is standing on the pier watching this little drama and he just looks at me and laughs.
Anxious to get away from people, I paddle out into the Indian River and head north. There's almost no wind and I lay into the paddle a little to see if I can get the Acadia to move. I haven't tested it for speed yet but think its going to do OK.
I think I got it up to 4.0 knots (or thereabouts) with no trouble. The bottom was passing under me quickly and I was pushing some fair sized bow waves in just a few strokes. I'll get the GPS out sometime to see what it has to say. I've been able to get the Looksha IV up to 4.5-4.7 knots, at least according to the GPS.
Out in the middle of the river, which frequently shoals to just a couple of inches, I watched as a couple of hundred ducks flew overhead in several formations. I suppose they're heading south from Atlanta and the miserable weather they're having for the Super Bowl. All we're getting is cloudy skies, a light drizzle and temperatures in the 60's.
I glanced over into the mangroves and though I saw an extra long sea kayak wedged up under the branches. I think it must have been there for a long time and the branches just grew around it. When I paddled over for a closer inspection, I saw it wasn't a sea kayak broken in half but what is probably one of the pontoons from a 22-24 catamaran.
I was just poking along the shoreline, looking for something interesting when movement in the 6 nch deep water caught my eye. A little round crab about the size of my thumb was attaching itself to a small piece of debris. The little crab had exceptionally long antennae, 3-4 times the length of it's body. Once it got itself situated, all you could really see was the antennae swaying in the current just like the other vegetation in the area. You had to know the crab was there to see it. But it had given the secret of its species away. Once I knew what to look for, I was able to spot many more of the crabs on the river bottom. The giveaway is not the weed like antennae but the little round body at the end of the feelers.
The wind began picking up around 11am, from the south. Damn. The prevailing winds are from the northwest and this is the second time I've paddled this stretch and they came at me from the south.
Around noon I got up to Pelican Island. It's just another big bunch of mangroves all bunched together and, you guessed it, not a pelican in sight. In fact, all I saw was a few Ibises on the outer shore. Swinging around the island, I hoped to begin the return journey on the inside of the island to avoid some of the 10 knot wind. With that in mind, I followed each of the little channels I came to and the all proved dead ends. I guess Pelican Island isn't an island after all or I wasn't where I though I was.
While paddling around a fairly large bay area, I saw many more Ibises. Outside of Merritt Island, I hadn't really seen very many of them. A few blue herons and some great egrets could be seen along the shore too. I saw a pair of large birds with white heads near a very large nest in a dead tree and thought I might have found a pair of bald eagles. As I watched them I realized they were osprey. I still believe the osprey I've seen down here are much larger than the ones in Maine.
I lost 45 minutes putzing around in the bay so when I got back on the open river I decided to push on back to the put in. The wind was in my face at mostly 10 knots and I had 5+ miles to go. I really didn't want to put extended strain on my tendonitis left arm but didn't have much choice. So I just hunkered down and tried to get into a good stroke and cadence. A couple of 1+ mile crossing from one point to another helped break up the trip and measure progress.
Instead of watching the approaching destination, I try to figure how long its going to take me to get there and then glance at the watch occasionally and just look at the target once in a while. I've been out before and kept watching the destination and it <does not> move. My watch does move and I can see progress there and when I do look at the destination, it's usually closer.