Waterlines Archive -- December 2003

12-28-03
Water day. Circumnavigated Great Wass Island (a largely wild Nature Conservancy island south of Jonesport, in Eastern Maine). A gorgeous crystalline day. I've been looking for a chance to paddle around Great Wass for the last 18 months -- and today was the day to do it: moderate winds out of the northwest and temperatures in the 40's, plus the opportunity to shed my work and family responsibilities for a few hours. Completed the 16 nautical miles in 5.5 hours. Went ashore twice and paused frequently to take photos. Saw a multitude of ducks (mostly scoters and oldsquaw), a score of loons, a dozen seals, 5 fishing boats, 1 eagle, and 0 other kayaks.

12-26-03  
Land Day. Paddled Belfast Harbor in a dense fog yesterday afternoon. Weather reports listed the visibility at 1/4 mile, but experience showed it to be much less than that. As an experiment, on my return trip, I attempted to cross the harbor at a point where it is about 1/2 mile wide, knowing I would likely lose all visibility at some point along the way. "I bet I can still come within 50 yards of the boathouse," I told myself. Just 150 yards offshore I entered a soup so thick that everything except the water immediately around my kayak was obliterated from view. It's a disconcerting feeling -- paddling so nearly blind, with nothing save your bow to focus on. I paddled ahead, alternately squinting and bugging out my eyes, concentrating on keeping my boat straight despite the current pushing me to the left . . . I expected to be able to see the outline of the west Belfast shoreline after just a few more strokes, and if not, after a dozen more strokes. I was confident I would win in this bet against myself and prove that I could navigate this, my home harbor, blind.

Another dozen strokes and I began to make out the vague silhouette of a shoreline, though it didn't appear as it should. Another dozen strokes and I was ready to concede that, I had not only lost the bet, I had reversed direction 180 degrees and had returned to the same shoreline I had started from, though about 200 yards downcurrent from where I started.

I do normally use a compass and GPS, and would not normally attempt a "crossing" in a fog without them. My little experiment placed me in no danger, yet it did illustrate the importance of navigation devices and skills for those who paddle in the fog. If the size of the crossing had been a bit bigger, and waters less familiar, I could have been in real trouble.

12-25-03    
Water day. 45 degrees F., rain & fog. Nature is full of the strange and wondrous. Belfast Harbor is a temporary home to several groups of oldsquaw ducks, a small black & white sea duck also known as the Longtailed Duck. Incredible that this unassuming looking duck migrates hundreds of miles and is able to dive to depths of more than 200 feet. According to the Whitefish Point Bird Observatory, oldsquaw are a migratory duck that breed on the arctic tundra and move south as far as North Carolina (apparently the more hardy or foolish stop in Maine) during the winter: "Nesting in North America appears to commence in early June. The nest is placed in a natural depression or in an old nest on the ground, often near water or on small islands. The depression is lined with materials at hand, which normally include mosses, sedges, or grasses; down is added after the second egg is laid. A typical clutch consists of 7 eggs, although they vary from 2 to 11. Incubation takes about 26 days . . . Young mature very rapidly and are ready for flight in only about 35 days. Food consists mainly of crustaceans, although fish, mollusks and aquatic insects are also taken. They are incredible divers and individuals on Lake Michigan were recorded to dive to 156 feet, while some have claimed dives as much as 240 feet." The Canadian Wildlife Service provides a sound clip of their pleasant "caloo, caloo."


12-23-03
Water day. 44 degrees and flat calm. Too warm for pogies. A quick 40 minute paddle out to the Belfast Monument and return.

You know you're a paddler if when participating in other forms of physical exercise (running, bicycling, xc skiing, a hike with your family) you feel you've been party to a betrayal. You have this nagging guilt that asks, "Shouldn't I be paddling?" And even if you can get beyond that, you think of the activity in terms of what it might do for you as a paddler. Other sure signs of include subscription to more than one paddling magazine, internet browser bookmarks dominated by paddling sites, a growing library of paddling books, a tide chart on your refrigerator, the ability to state at a moment's notice, "It's been X days since I last paddled." Extra points for any paddling in your dreams.

12-22-03
Land day. Interesting conversation on paddling.net on how bow shape affects ability to surf up onto a beach, an iceberg, or over a mostly submerged log. Some believe this to be an advantage of the upswept bow of British style boats. Others including myself point out that bow rocker is likely as important as deadrise angle. A little discussed aspect of kayak design to be sure! For most of us, the ability to surf our kayaks up onto chunks of floating ice is much less of a consideration than speed, tracking, or stability. For Eskimo and Greenland paddlers, ability to surf up onto ice floes may often have been a matter of life or death.

12-21-03   Winter Solstice
Buoy F - W. Penobscot Bay
Last update: 12/21 1:00 PM EST
Wind: SW at 19.2 knots
Wind gust: 22.9 knots
Wave height: 1.9 ft Period: 3.6 sec
Air temp: 30° F (-1.1° C)
Visibility: 1.6 nm (1.8 miles, 3.0 km)

Water day. Paddled Belfast Harbor this morning, air temperature at 17 degrees F, winds beginning to freshen up out of the west, a skin of ice over the harbor. Did my usual harbor route, down past the town landing and the tugboats, past the old sardine plant (now being considered for a 500-slip marina), under the crumbling Veterans Memorial Bridge, to the high bridge. Beyond the high bridge, the Passy River was iced up pretty good. It's early in the year to have even a thin coat of ice on the river. From the high Route 1 bridge, headed out the harbor past Young's Lobster pound with the sun on my face and a bit of wind off my beam. Got tied up in some ice and had to double back around to the western shore of the harbor. I don't usually paddle if the air temps are much below 30 degrees, but I was plenty warm with my dry pants, dry top, neoprene cap, polypro underlayer, neoprene knee boots, and neoprene pogies. Nice to be out on the water this time of year -- quiet, and lots of light. Chased a few rafts of sea ducks out of the harbor. We start wheeling back toward the sun from here!

lives a mile from the water in Belfast, Maine with his wife, 2 daughters, and 3 dogs. He is owner of Water Walker Sea Kayaks and also teaches English at a local public high school. Please write him with comments, questions, or suggestions.