Sunny Morning on the Gold Coast

[bob budd]

I initiated an early launch so I could get back to work in the afternoon. One candidate spurned my invitation citing the hour of the day. As I reached Tuck Point the morning sun was making progress with the remains of the system that had rained off and on through the weekend. I saw two vehicles on the “ramp”, a stretch of asphalt in mild disrepair stretching beneath the water presently well up the beach with the remains of the high tide. One was surely (or is that surly) Bradley but who might the other be?

As I pulled close the truck was unfamiliar as was the driver of each vehicle. The truck, marked with something about a sewer division, had pulled up to finish a donut and coffee. As I lowered my boat onto my shoulder and headed to the beach I found a well-insulated Corgi scrambling about the automobiles. I offered a ride on the deck of my boat but he/she settled for a thorough scratch about the head and shoulders before returning to ambling about the beach.

Back to the car and out came the bucket-o-gear and I loaded the boat. While still the only kayaker at the launch I moved my car onto the street the long way first driving to the Stop-and-Shop to answer nature’s call. When I returned again there were two vehicles at the ramp, this time I recognized Bradley’s truck and Walter’s voice (both discernable at a considerable distance).

After exchanging the customary salutations we dragged out boats into the water. After consideration of the wind speed and direction we chose to head up the Gold Coast anyway. The water was flat except for the slightest suggestion of swell. Not a stink boat was in sight, this circumstance happily held out for the morning.

With the wind mostly at our backs we made good time up the coast to Chub Creek. We fought the mighty outgoing current under the rail bridge to reach the marsh behind the tracks. From there we meandered a short distance to another culvert/bridge where further progress was limited to a hundred yards or less. Returning through both bridges first Bradley and then Walter and I engaged in play at the mouth of the river. It turns out my boat is easier to handle in the sort of thing with the water coming from behind.

When interest in further play waned our intended landing time began to factor into our plans. While Misery Island, the Gooseberrys, and other assorted destinations about the sound beckoned we chose to retrace our trip while hugging the coast and thus escape much of the above-forecast winds.

As each point pushed us back into the wind we quickly rounded same and returned to the calm in the lee. Here and there were beach walkers, both human and canine. As we passed Dane St beach Bradley left us to investigate one beach walker. Walter and I, both reluctantly interested in getting to work this afternoon, headed for Tuck Point. The wind at this point had either died or shifted. While Walter and I were loading our vehicles Bradley rejoined us at the beach. After a few mouthfuls of Trader Joe’s trail mix, courteousy of Walter, I climbed into my car and headed home.