bob budd

We use Verizon, as Brian Nystrom now does, and I get no spam. The only unwanted stuff I get is from places I bought stuff from. No extra spam blocking needed. "I liked the service so much I bought the company" (an infinitessimal portion). Sign up now and Dee and I will thank you from the heart of our bottoms when we retire to Hanalei. For extra credit who was the Patriots owner quoted in this posting. Definitely time to go to bed.

I thought he was being funny...(email from John Leonard=spam)

Neither wind, nor rain, nor sleet and snow will deter the Crangle. Rumor has it he once wore a hat in the winter.

I am not averse to camping in Maine. (We'll be returning to Nubble Bay this summer and hope to get up there some more.) I'd need a relatively protected area to paddle from, some/all of the teens are expected to be novice paddlers.

Those of you who don't know me are probably better off but let's see where this goes. I have a 15-year-old son who lives with in Maine who visits on alternating weekends. This winter spring I got the idea to do overnight camping on Boston Harbour (et al) islands. Overnight simplifies provisioning, etc. The idea is to take a small group to most any island. As far as I'm concerned this needs to happen in the off season. These arraingements would be rather impromptu and subject to weather cancellation. I know better than to do this just he and I, he being more or less a novice. One can, for instance, launch in Hingham and paddle in mostly protected waters where two experienced paddlers would be able to pull it off. I tried to get someone I knew to join us but the rat fink claimed he was "busy with work". Perhaps by the time September rolls around I can assemble a "short list" much the same way as I now manage my morning outings.

This morning at Tuck Point may be my last for awhile. As I gazed across the water at Salem Willows my gaze was interrupted by the few boats now moored in the shallows. Next week I’ll have to pass on weekday kayaking in lieu of an early Friday exit to pick up my son in Maine. (I graciously accept all of your condolences in advance.) Two weeks from now I expect many more interruptions in this view and considerable traffic as well, making it less attractive. Thereafter the other regular in our two-or-more-some may be camping his way along the Maine coast. The elder Gwynn, one Wilbur, preceded me in the sand as did the sublime Mr. Crangle. I began to wonder if I would spend the morning mightily struggling to keep up with him. While I stuffed a few things into my boat for the morning I began to assess the conditions. The forecast was quite accurate, little more than a breeze and low visibility due to a grey fog. While parking my SUV up the road the younger Gwynn, one Bradley, drove by saying Walter was fashionably late. While Walter indeed arrived last he was first on the water. Who does that remind me of? There was acclimation that we head for the gooseberries. Through the haze we soon insisted we could see Misery Island. We made good time passing Eagle Island on the East side and ambled past the nearest Gooseberry. The expected gulls and cormorants frequented the islands and a solitary seal was seen. As we approached the Breakers many seals began to surround us, albeit at a distance, and a large stationary object on the Breakers turned out be the largest of them eventually too curious to remain stationary. Intriguing he was bringing head and shoulders well out of the water to get a better look at the five of us. Three of us were reluctantly agreed to land at noon and go to work (condolences again accepted in advance) so we returned to the largest Gooseberry for a navigation meeting. One of our number found himself a bit wet in disembarking from his boat on the pebbly beach. Another of our number ignored the advice of his younger brother, leaving the stern of his boat within reach of a watery hand that succeeded in dragging his boat back into the water. After a brief swim we were all assembled on land for the customary chatter. As we disembarked the forecast of improving visibility was affirmed. At this point the group became separated between those who followed the aforementioned trip up the coast and those who set out more or less directly for the put-in. I eventually joined the bee-liners as the three of us were the aforementioned nooners. We were joined by Mr. Crangle as we neared the put-in and landed as the cloud ceiling began to reveal a sunny afternoon.

Awhile back club members got together on a group buy of a submersible radio for ~$200. Mileage has varied, there have been returns, less than submersible behaviour, etc. Can't provide the model number (from work) but perhaps one of the other buyers can. We also use bags on cell phones and even voice actuated dialing works well. If you need something for ~$100 you are looking at a "radio burrito".

Each has its advantages and disadvantages. For convenience nothing beats a radio on the vest. Case/button size limitations can make gloved operation difficult. Add "a case of the wets" and it can be difficult to understand what is being said through the gurgling speaker. Not to mention how many "submersible" radios have failed under less than extreme conditions. I believe "mister I just got DSL" was doing some evaluation of how submersible radios really were.

Arrive 7:30AM, depart 8AM. Some will return at 12PM. Others may wish/be willing to stay out. The usual protocols, dry suits recommended.

Brad Gwynn and I will be paddling from Tuck Point on Wednesday 5-11-05. Meet at 7:30 and leave at 8:00. I'll be back by Noon, Bradley may stay out/go back out.

It's Bolonsky, but you know that...if you see Erica ask her about the scary white thing... The University of Hawaii has ten campuses, three universities and seven community colleges. Were you lucky enough to end up on Kaua'i, my personal favourite? If not I suppose you can survive on the other islands. While Dee and I were on Kauai we went on self-bailing sit-on-tops on a river trip that ended up inside the dormant volcano. This may have been the most I've ever had on flat water. At the right time of year you can paddle all the way to the waterfall on Fantasy Island ("Da Plane Boss!" though his best line has to be "I'll kill you with my knife!"). At other times of year you can portage around the dry spots. Another killer spot has to be the Na Pali coast, distance-wise a two-day trip would allow one to camp near ancient ruins accessible only via the water or a long trail from Hanalei. We found the water very big, one day had difficulty getting beyond the break with boogie boards. The (potentially) big water would likely be an issue regardless of the temperatures which you would also want to check into. After spring in the Carribean and summer in Hawaii you'll find New England paddling quite droll.

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.

Unlike Thoreau he actually lived his story rather than building a cabin in the woods and then primarily dining and sleeping with the Hawthornes.

Recent reports are that this individual may have presidential aspirations and may listen to letters from Liberalia. The URL lists only Santorum's contact information. The most effective response would be for someone to describe what this would mean to stink boaters, sail boaters, and paddle boaters alike in a letter. They are all voters and taxpayers. This letter should be sent to all representatives and senators of coastal states. Senators contact info can be found at http://www.senate.gov/general/contact_info...enators_cfm.cfm. Congressperson contact info can be found at http://www.house.gov/writerep/. Perhaps someone more eloquent than I would be kind enough to post such a letter. Contact the NSPBN!

Mystic Lake is in Medford, pronounced in the local tongue Me Fuh. If you go the home page and click on "put-ins" there are directions at "Lower Mystic Lake".

Tried my best to coerce a co-employee, me a contractor, to do humidity and salt spray testing today but he wouldn't bite. So instead I went to work and left early to ride my bike home with Tuttle. In the past Tuttle would goad me as I sought to meander down life's path, my bicycle rolling underneath. He the dilligent one, I sought his counsel and encouragement when years ago I raced. About 3:30PM I left the office and walked my bike down the road and through the courtyard munching my apple. By the time I had reached the guard shack I had cast the core beneath one of many small evergreens in the beds along the parking lot. One lucky rodent will undoubtedly be happy it looked beneath every shrub and bush tonight. As I passed the guard shack I set my left shoe in the toe clip and waited for traffic to clear before heading off. Taking the left oft taken in error we headed up Industrial Way. None of the trucks that frequented this road were to be seen, in fact few vehicles of any kind were present. I congratulated Tuttle for his research in finding a traffic-starved path for the trip. Up the small hill and across I-93 we passed through the barrels preventing heavy vehicles from invading North Reading's own big dig, the laying of new water lines. Uneventful this upon turning left onto Willow heading for a stretch on Rte 129. At the corner a policeman had pulled behind two cars obviously dealing with the curious habit many drivers have of attempting to fit two vehicles in one place at one time. Though the right turn could have been a particular challenge with these obstructions the well chosen intersection, with traffic light, made the turn uneventful. Tuttle serves me well indeed. The trip down Rte 129 included crossing Rte 28 and arriving eventually at that place we all know and seemingly can't avoid going into to shop. Tuttle the dilligent would suffer no such delay so we snuck behind the Mandarin Restaurant and found our way to the path allowing us to traverse the rotary clockwise. Soon on the second half of the severed Bay State Road we made in earnest for Main St in Lynnfield, turning left with Rte 128 in full view. As we continued north toward Essex St we passed a little known walking trail. I suggested we stop and investigate but Tuttle, his dilligence now getting on my nerves, insisted we go on. Down Essex and left on Winona, then merging onto Pine we headed for Johnson. I apparently had such Rhythm I Blue past Johnson and realized my error only when 128 beckoned. Back I went, with Tuttle nowhere in sight. As I reached Johnson there he waited, the scamp. Up Johnson then and merging onto Lowell we were now close enough to home to race down the hill and onto Prospect. Passing the mall we continued left up Rte 114 and then down Sylvan St. Taking the right fork we passed behind Danvers center and stopped at Lena's for a PPPO (Post Peddle...). The last mile passed quickly as we crossed the Bass River, the undecorated house always decorated, and landed safe and sound at home.

Like many others I have benefited from NSPN training, both from official training sessions and from unofficial paddles including rescue practice, etc. I learned to roll in a pool, the first time I tried my "combat roll" I came right back up. (Special thanks to surfing god and all around great guy Chris Thomas.) Having these skills makes me both a safer paddler and a better copaddler. Noone in this thread has said that going out alone in and of itself constitutes bad judgement. Many of us, for one reason or another, have gone out alone or with less than two copaddlers. In my opinion going out alone in these conditions and looking for trouble with the skills possessed did was bad judgement. As the number of copaddlers falls it follows that one should exercise greater caution. It is not to depend on the copaddlers. "Never less than three..." refers to a second paddler to hold your boat off the rocks while the third paddler assists in resuce, a second paddler to steady an injured paddler while a third paddler tows, etc. Bad judgement is not limited to solo paddling. One should not compromise the strength of the group by persistently running off alone, repeatedly getting into trouble, etc. I suggest that one of the foundations of judgement is the integration of individual responsibility with the responsibility for those we are with.

Since this thread has addressed similar issues I'll mention that the times recorded by the server are still in Eastern Standard Time.

We have cut our gaskets with scissors. We (try to remember to) put 303 on gaskets monthly. I don't recall treating the newly cut gasket. Stretching has its supporters and detractors, I dare you to ask how tight to trim your gasket...

>For those who have paddled to these islands during this time of >year, can you give us some help on planning this trip? For >example, where is the best place to launch--Winthrop or Sing's >Beach or Hull? Define "best". Windmill Point is the closest. If you want to tour other harbour islands you can put in at City Point or "Sing's Beach" (not to be confused with Singing Beach). Winthrop is closer than either City Point or "Sing's Beach" but means crossing President Roads. Note that there is a launch in Winthrop Town Ramp that does not involve carrying the boat as far. It means a bit more paddling but if the weather fits the current forecast the time would be better spent on the water. >Second, we need to plan launch times--what is the best time >to launch given the conditions/this time of year for >Saturday or Sunday? Check "http://www.erh.noaa.gov/er/box/" or a similar site to get marine forecast, click on the sea portion you are interested. Make sure you check outside Boston Harbour, the Harbour forecast is usually less "nteresting"

It is indeed interesting the threads that develop from a posting. On the one hand it is a unique approach to a problem. Here was "a guy" who was doing it for the camera, note comment at the end of the reel, "didn't get that" or somesuch. I must admit his roll was quick and easy. No harm in good fun. For the "water-in-the-cockpit" crowd in the prevailing conditions (other paddlers handy, flat water) it perhaps would have been more efficient to do an assisted rescue (note above "a guy"), do a cowboy-style maneuver, etc. It is unknown how much effort was involved in draining the cockpit. There are ways to empty a boat of water while in the water. I use a scissor-kick/water polo maneuver to get the bow out of the water and drain the cockpit before scrambling in somewhat cowboy-style though I mount the boat right behind the cockpit. There is also a cockpit draining method where you use the paddle "flotation" with your shoulder as a fulcrum and raise the bow out of the water.

As noted recently there are alot of "newbies" reading this message board, not to mention the value of reminders. To that end I would note that river water may be a bit warmer than ocean water but present temperatures are still capable of inducing hypothermia. The most obvious advantage to paddling a river such the Merrimack is the proximity to shoreline and assistance one won't find, say, at the Graves Light House. P.S. - If you see a bald eagle swimming please get a picture.

>...I can already hear the groans... Whoever authored this legislation should bow to popular and retract it. This long thread is making my skull ache. We deserve a stern rebuke for carrying this conversation on for so long. The subject has obviously unearthed alot of current resentment with taxation and government.

I guess it's a good thing I'm going back to school to become a math teacher.

Thanks for the lesson, I never was much for word problems. Of course, you are assuming the license is transferrable. Hope to see you on the water in the future.