PeterB

On Sunday morning I drove up to Popham Beach for a day of long boat surfing. Expecting to find at least a few other paddlers drawn here on this beautiful Columbus day weekend, I met a considerably larger group assembling in the parking lot at Fort Popham : some familiar faces, some not, a group of about a dozen paddlers, into which I was quickly assimilated. So, at @11AM, thirteen of us launched from underneath Fort Popham, and headed out along the beach , which wrapped around to the right and extends about two miles to the west. The Popham beach area is beautiful and offers a more diverse array of paddling opportunities than just surf play . As we made our way along the beach, the group began to spread out , disperse. Four paddlers peeled off from the group for a crossing to Seguin Island, about two miles offshore, so alluring on this most beautiful of autumn days. For the rest of us, the general destination was the area around Morse Point, about a mile to the west , where the surf seemed to be concentrated. Here, near the parking lot for the State park, the beach forms a salient which, as the tide ebbs, enlarges into a bar extending out to a small island about four hundred yards offshore. As one looked to the east or west. “standard” waves sets rolled into the beach and at this salient waves were meeting at a 45 degree angle, creating classic zippers, and a triangle of perhaps a few hundred square yards with small haystacks and confused waves. Twice I ventured into this little vortex in search of excitement after getting frustrated missing good wave sets. (Surfing is over 50% timing -my weak point - the rest is a mixture of luck, skill, and audacity), At this triangle I caught one long ride right into an oncoming wave, which my boat rode right over, almost becoming airborne, and slammed back onto the water, and was immediately struck by another wave, which infused me with enough adrenaline to sustain me until we landed for a lunch break. At @ 1 :30. Quite pleased with myself for having caught some good rides while remaining upright all morning, after lunch I was quickly humbled with about four capsizes; on all but one I rolled up, on the last one, I had no paddle purchase in a mass of foam, rolled , was immediately hit by another wave, ran out of air & pulled my skirt. Unable to pull or follow my boat into shore a mere thirty feet away (unfriendly current, or undertow), I did a re- enter & roll and paddled my lurching, sloshing boat the short way to shore to bail and regroup. I felt like a heel ,but was consoled to see a considerably more experienced paddler meet the same fate a few minutes later. Others looked like they were having a good day. I saw a paddler in a beautiful skin- on -frame (he was one of four paddlers here from Montreal) surfing a wave backwards, his greenland stick planted in an elegant bow rudder (really a stern rudder, since he was going backwards) with amber sunlight shining through his translucent hull. Very sharp! We eventually migrated over to the surf on the west side of Fox Island. Four paddlers reappeared in our midst, our friends, returned from Seguin Island (their quickie trip report: “it was lovely”.) and three of us joined them and we headed for Pond Island, back towards the fort and the mouth of the Kennebec River. On the east side of Pond island was a full fledged tidal race running at close to max current, maybe four , four and a half knots. We gathered for a quick consult in an eddy at the island’s northern tip, then snuck around to another eddy on the northeastern corner of the island and ventured into the standing waves. Paddling vigorously while standing still is a slightly surreal experience, requiring a mixture of paddling / bracing skill and timing/anticipation ; to make any progress one needs to use the falling water, a combination of brains and paddling chops , both of which I had in dwindling supply as it was the end of the day and I was beginning to fatique . After some forty minutes of standing waves(or did it just seem that long? ‘the sands of time move swiftly except in the hour of pain.”) , we regrouped in the eddy , rode the current around the far (southern) end of the island, ferried over to Wood island , where a vast sand bar was emerging, a most welcome spot to land and and take a rest while the tide slackened, before our final 3/4 mile slog home. Other paddlers began to filter back to join us , and after about a fifteen minute rest, we launched in ones, twos and threes, and strung out over good quarter of a mile, plodded home against the dwindling current in the lengthening shadows of a fine, memorable day .

Yes,Carl, I will be there; looks like a nice day tomorrow. Hope you can make it! Peter

Popham Beach: surfing Sunday Oct 8th. I’ll be at Popham Beach on Sunday Oct 8th, long boat surfing, and/or paddling, practicing in & out of surf zone, probably from @ 9-9:30 AM until I get too tired to roll (afternoon, some time) Familiar/friendly faces, as always , a pleasure. High Tide at Fort Popham is 12:30PM, low tide is 6:44PM. If you’re interested, see you there, or post here ,or email me at pbrady@neaq.org

Great practice spot. If you’re wondering what the #*&@ you’ve been practicing those low brace turns for, go to Goose Cove , you will revel in an orgy of low brace turns. Paddling back under the bridge against the current is an added thrill . We took turns guessing the current. My guess was 5- 5.5 knots, but it had slackened by the time I got through . (Rick got through first, Roger second, me last). Paddling against it is harder, I think, than just paddling the speed of the current: , because the water is a bit aerated, and is moving against you, each paddle stroke has less of a bite, kind of like walking up a down escalator that’s coated in Vaseline.

I'll join you today, @ 5PM. Don't know where to park other than Wheeler Pt. if there's a closer spot, please describe know here or by email (pbrady@neaq.org) by about 3:30 PM. thanks, Peter

It would be best if the private trips section were left for private trips, i.e. for people who want to go paddlng rather than argue about going paddling, or how to go paddling. This began as a message to get people together to go paddling. Somewhere it was hijacked into a thread on NSPN operating procedures. While this is (unfortunately) common, here it is especially problematic because , while one can usually elect to just ignore a thread if it looks distasteful,uninteresting or whatever, in this case all innocent souls who are interested in this trip will have to read it for fear of missing information pertaining to the trip itself. The etiquette of s&g's is a perfectly appropriate topic for discussion. One wishing to initiate such discussion should post their own message, perhaps in the "NSPN business" section of the message board. The "private trips" section of the message board is arguably the most precious section as it is here where people connect to go paddling, the raison d'etre (I hope) of this club. Lets all work to keep it as unfettered as possible.

The reason you can't reach in to get at the bulkhead is that... it's so far forward. Move it 9" or 10" aft and ,voila, you'll be able to paw at it to your hearts content, either from the cockpit end or through that nice roomy oval front hatch. Listen to the man,and go to the winter oufitting workshop. There, under the iron but gloved hand of Mr.Nystrom , amidst busy automotons sanding at minicell, dremeling at bulkheads, threading line through deck fittings, you will be assimilated into the cult of aftermarket outfitting geeks, and you will ride in style and comfort for ever after....

Come on, creamy Ernie. Cut out that front bulkhead and move it 9" aft. Go for it! It'll be the best thing that ever happened to you.

Moonlight paddle. Pavilion Beach/Essex Bay Fri. Oct 6 Launch from Pavilion Beach at @ 6:30 (dusk, one hour after low tide.) for a relaxed, moonlight paddle. Options are to paddle along Cranes Beach , into Essex bay, stop at tip of Cranes or Hog Island for a snack, putter around Essex Bay bymoonlight , return to Pavilion through Fox Creek. Or, if water’s bumpy: Linger around Plum Is. Sound or Fox Creek, pass into Essex Bay when Fox Creek fills (should be early with high tide) paddle to Hog Is. and back through Fox Creek. Return 9;30-10:00-ish. Flexible. High tide is 11:23 PM, low tide is 5:33 PM. It’s supposed to get a bit chilly, dress warmly , and for the swim. I’m going to pull out the drysuit. Bring lightsticks. Level 3-ish. If it’s a no-go, I’ll be at Pavilion 6:15-ish in any event. If cloudy and bumpy, will cancel. I can be reached by email pbrady@neaq.org, or cell phone 617-877-5824 Peter

Ditto Kevin for the most part. I would recommend a beginner and advanced surf class, with directional/boat control as a backup for the beginner class(in the event of no surf) and rocks & ledges as a backup for the advanced surf class. I remember hearing lots of raves about the beginner surf class last fall ; people really appreciated the patience and attention that they received and how much they learned; it would seem a natural to repeat. The advanced surf class was a washout: no conditions, so we repaired to a nearby pond and did directional control instead. Advanced surf (in long boats) would be a natural, as well, especially since we missed it last year: I would vote for rocks/ledges as the advanced surf class back up.

Suzanne, The frogs might be spring peepers, or possibly juvenile frogs , some of which (like the wood frog) are quite terrestrial. Spring peepers vary in coloration, can be brownish, grayish, a bit greenish, and are the size you described . Look for a trace of an “X” on their back (their scientific name is Pseudacris crucifer).

Regarding the Avocet, and previous queries re: its larger cousin, the Aquanaut.: A fair number of paddlers who have both a longer (e.g.)Aquanaut/Explorer etc) and a shorter (e.g. Avocet, Romany, Capella, Tempest 165 ) boat find themselves going to the shorter boat more and more often and the longer one sits on the rack. A longer boat comes into its own on expeditions , camping trips (carrying stuff) and on outings with long crossings or generally covering lots of miles. , An 18 foot boat is faster, but only when up to speed, say 3-3.5 mph and above. Below that (0-3 mph) the differences in speed are small, and the shorter boat may accelerate quicker and so be more handy, fun, faster for the paddling that many people are really doing much of the time. A question to answer for yourself is: How often do you really do trips where you’re paddling long distances? Another thing, If you’;re only going on one or two expeditions/camping trips a year, you can always rent. Some people get an 18 foot boat because they think they’ll be faster, but taking a forward paddling course with Ben Lawry or one the of the forward stroke gurus will increase your speed and “smiles per miles” more than a longer boat. Recently I took a class with John Carmody; he was in a Capella 163 and I was in an Explorer; on crossings in wind and current he whipped me so bad I’d rather not talk about it. If you can own both a long and a shorter boat, then this is mostly moot, just some thoughts to consider if you’re planning on getting one boat. …

If you feel apprehensive about inconveniencing others if you need to be rescued , keep in mind that most experienced paddlers practice rescues regularly, enjoy rescue practice, and secretly or not, relish the opportunity to ply their rescue skills in real conditions. Maybe there’s something wrong with me, but I think rescues are fun. ( to paraphrase Mel Rice of Carpe Diem Kayaking: “I love rescues”) As far as mingling with more experienced paddlers & screwing up their lives, don’t worry too much. Trips where participants want to ensure everyone is at the same skill level, or simply want to paddle with whom they feel comfortable, tend to be organized privately, and you won’t hear about them till they’re over, anyway. For S&G’s, people show and they go, so there’s an implicit lack of control over who’s in the group, which in turn implies flexibility. In my experience, when there’s either an uncomfortable ratio of unexperienced to experienced paddlers, or if there are paddlers who have not met before and don’t really know each others skill level, the float plan may be altered to accommodate the group. With real paddlers, everybody comes back. A very few paddlers cultivate the impression that they squirted out onto the delivery table with an off side roll and able to paddle 26 miles in 4 foot seas, but the vast majority of experienced paddlers still recall that they were once inexperienced themselves, once didn’t know what an NDK Explorer was, and will be happy to help you, or rescue you, or whatever else brings everybody back with a smile on their face. The only way for an experienced paddler to become experienced is to cross paths with those more experienced than they.

Whatever drysuit you get, a relief zipper and integral fabric (gore-tex ) booties are highly recommended; you'll be quickly sorry you didn't spring for the extra bucks that these two features might entail. The integral booties are great; the suit is much easier to put on and take off, and you put whatever footwear you please over them. You just have to protect the booties, don't walk on them without putting footwear on first... The advantages of a relief zipper will become obvious the first time you need to excrete on a cold day...

Gene, Provided you have a helmet, judgment, and are dressed and prepared for immersion., a surf session would be great for you no matter what your level. With a “traditional “ S&G trips, all participants pass through the same conditions and cover the same number of miles, so a participant who feels that he or she can’t keep up or can’t handle conditions has legitimate concerns for affecting the group, In a surf session, you don’t have to do what everybody else does, or worry about holding up others ; If getting into the white water and breaking stuff makes you uncomfortable, you can just practice launching and landing in surf. (Landing in surf is different from surfing: you don’t ride the waves in, you follow the waves in.) Then you can find a zone out there where you’re comfortable, just explore the effect of waves on your boat. It’s a great chance to expose yourself to bigger conditions all in a circumscribed area, where you can push the envelope just a bit, and bail when you please. You can try a wave or two as your judgment and comfort level dictate , and if you wet exit, you just hold the stern toggle and follow your boat into shore, regroup, rest, whatever, and out you go again. Fun! And, if you should find that it’s all too much for you, you just go to shore and you’re good: no holding up the group , changing float plan, or anything else. Nahant would be a great choice for that first exposure to surf and white water . It’s easy to launch from, as waves don’t dump at the shore, it’s got a sandy bottom, and the break zone is a good ways from shore. If there’s a session there, there will be experienced paddlers who would happily give you advice.

The Portsmouth, NH YMCA might be a good addition to the roster of pool session venues. Alex L. ran some sessions there a few years ago. Great pool, good access, parking etc. It would also serve club members in the southern NH/Newburyport/Portsmouth area.

Many Gerrish Island trips are timed to circumnavigate, closer to high tide. This trip, on the falling tide, (we probably stopped in Brave Boat at dead low tide) was great because many more rocks were exposed all along the way, and with that steady swell, there was lots more action in the rock gardens than at high tide. Also, better surf at the entrance to Brave Boat Harbor. Thanks, Kevin, for initiating this fine outing.

2 hours might be pushing it, more like 1 hour on either side of high tide. There's a stretch of hundred yards or so of salt marsh, maybe 1/8 mile past the culvert (i.e. between the culvert and Brave Boat harbor) that runs out of water pretty quickly after high tide. This is also around where he currents meet, so the current through the culvert runs towards Brave Boat on the flood and towards Chauncey creek on the ebb.

On Sunday morning, twelve helmeted souls launched from the sand bar in downtown Bar Harbor for an all-day “Rock Gardens” class. Our instructors were Steve Maynard and John Carmody, and this was part of the 4 day BCU symposium in Bar Harbor from Sept 8th to 11th. This was a solid group of paddlers, including some familiar faces : representing NSPN were myself, Dana, Galen, and Dan Roy, (from Montreal). At the beach briefing, Steve Maynard explained that the anticipated weather system from the south (4-7 foot swells) had not materialized, and instead the wind was from the north, so we would be ranging farther to the south where the longer fetch could create bigger conditions. So we quickly paddled though the boats & cruise ships anchored in the harbor, out through the breakwater at the south end of town , and southward along the eastern shore of Mt. Desert Island. It was a fine sunny day, and boat traffic was very sparse, no lobster boats and just a few whale watch tours out and about. There was a steady wind of @ 15 knots throughout the day. After some warm- up and introductory rock play along MDI, we made a ferried 1.75 mile crossing to Egg Rock, which sits alone in the middle of Frenchman Bay. At the southern end of Egg Rock a long bar, maybe 300 yards long, extends to the southwest, and here the wind from the north and the tidal current from the south collided, and waves were breaking from both directions and at different angles all along the submerged bar, the kind of area the Coast Pilot says stuff like ” to be treated with utmost caution” The north side was real “jobbly”, the south side a bit less so , but all in all some of the trickiest conditions I had ever experienced, . This was all, of course, child’s play for our instructors, who effortlessly buzzed around the bar in their boats, giving advice, instructions. We took turns passing across the bar, which turned out to be easier than it looked; it was much easier than holding a position in current and wind, waiting to take ones turn. The group passed through and across the bar several times, with some hoops and hollers, but without incident, and we then migrated to the south end of Egg Rock, for more traditional rock play. Along the way, Mr, Carmody emphasized staying relaxed in the boat, don’t tense or brace the thighs tightly to the boat, let them drop, keep the hips loose, don’t over-paddle, and let the water and the boat take care of you. Galen, overjoyed, said that he never expected to find himself calmly sitting in his boat, water mightily surging up and down, paddle across his lap, casually conversing one foot from a boat-eating rock face. Loose hips rule! One paddler capsized and wet exited in a semi enclosed rock garden, was churned about for a while, and his boat appeared to be lodged amidst the rocks. His was no spot for a rescue, so John coaxed him to swim out of the enclosure, Steve Maynard popped out of his boat , intending to swim to the rocks and extract the boat from the land side, but before he got far the boat was freed up by a new swell, and eventually was extracted. During this rescue it was unclear how long it would take to retrieve the boat, so three paddlers rafted up and our swimmer lay across their three decks to get out of the water until the boat might be retrieved. When the boat floated free, it was passed along, bucket -brigade style, back to its owner and soon enough he was back in his boat and underway, with smiles all around. We landed for a lunch break at a small , fairly steep cobble beach on the island’s northwest corner. There were twelve paddlers to get in to this small beach, so the whole operation took a good while, during which time I learned that, while I’d spent much time learning to move my boat this way and that, I knew little of holding one position in wind and current, and I struggled but I kept getting swept to the right towards the rocky danger area. During our lunch break, Mr, Maynard explained that it is far better to hold a position than to work to regain a lost one. True enough; I had spent a lot of precious energy fighting back to the position I had lost. Always something new to learn! We launched and made a 1.2 nm crossing into the wind, north to Ironbound Island, where more rocks awaited. The south end of Ironbound is a face of steep rock cliffs, perhaps 80 feet high. Here there were more big swells rushing up and down the rocks. As we played our way along to the east, a variety of opportunities for practice, fun and mayhem presented themselves. There was another capsize and rescue, this time Steve put a tow on the rafted boats to keep them from drifting into the rocks while the rescue was sorted out. A few hundred yards along the cliffs, three of us found an intriguing little area: three narrow entrances, one of them a narrow arch, leading into one small enclosure with steep sides, a water filled canyon. I thought of the line from “Yojimbo”, when an upstart peasant says ”Who wants a long life eating mush? I want a short, exciting life!” and paddled through the narrow, low archway into the enclosure, which was maybe 20 or 25 feet square. Seconds later, a larger swell rolled in, and water crashed in though all three openings, turning the enclosure into a cauldron of churning water, and my boat was violently buffeted all about, banging into one side, then the another. BUT, in the words of Mr. Maynard, “No worries”: I knew that soon enough the surge would play itself out, and things would return to “normal”, so it was just a question of relaxing and weathering the onslaught. I almost made it through the washing machine cycle, but was finally carried up sideways onto a rock wall, the water disappeared from under me., and I capsized, so I hung out upside down for a three or four-count, waiting for bubbles to disperse, ,and won praise from Mr Carmody and other onlookers for executing a nice, patient roll. Again upright, I found myself pointed straight toward the opening I had first come in, so I said, “boat, let’s get the hell out of here!” and slithered out into the sunlight again, paddle scratching against the barnacles on the narrow, low rock arch. Was that exhilarating or what? We began our journey back, and paddled up the east shore of Ironbound Island, We were soon heading home and paddling against both wind and tide, and the 1 mile crossing from Ironbound to Long Porcupine Island was, for me, quite grueling. I was recovering from a recent illness, not at 100% strength, and had spent much energy on the holding patterns and previous crossings. I was in awe of the mastery of John and Steve, their ability to husband their energy and move their boats so efficiently through the water. By Long Porcupine Island we had the wind at our back for about 3/4 mile , and John demonstrated some surfing skills, getting nifty free bursts of speed from small waves, that carried him maybe thirty feet at a time (make the ocean work for you.) We made another crossing from Burnt Porcupine to Porcupine Island, and, by the time we rounded Bar Island and at last had some wind at our backs for the final quarter mile, I was quite spent. It was a grand day with a fine group of paddlers and two master instructors, that certainly pushed my limits and inspired confidence, and all in a beautiful setting. This was by no means a salient moment of the recent symposium, just one paddler's report of one of many experiences the symposium participants enjoyed during those four days in Bar Harbor.

An Anas acuta support group: hmmm, not sure that sounds quite right, as AA owners probably don't need much support, all of which is provided by knowing they're astride the baddest ride yet to have creased the ocean. Anas cuta Elite Guard? Anas acuta Commissars of Quirk? ( okay, enough: I've gotta get well soon, get off the keyboard and back into the H20)

I have been (very) sick for over a week, and must wait and see how I feel on Friday before deciding whether I can go. I will miss Friday in any event , so I can't do the four star training, which requires two days. Hoping for fun with currents, and rock gardening, at least. Peter

You're welcome to mine; its a Kokatat GFER,XL, refief zip, gore tex booties, seals are good, though my neck is probbly bullier than yours and its out on Peaks Is.right now. If your travels involve some connection with MIKCO which would allow you to easily retrieve it, and it not too big for you, you're welcome to it. Peter

Head gear helps lessen that initial cold water shock, will be useful as the water temperature starts to drop soon,and beomes essential to all but the hardiest people as fall turns to winter. Options range from various lightweight skullcaps to full on 3-5MM neoprene hoods.I have a great lght to midweight Kokatat fleece -lined hood which, tucked under the collar of a drytop or paddling jacket, restricts water coming in enough to protect ones head so that that by the time you've rolled up, water hasn't had a chance to assault our head to much to begin with. Reactions to cold water immersion vary widely. A very few are impervious, most suffer from "ice cream" headaches, and then some have severe reactions, from involuntary gasping ,cold water shock, even cardiac arrest.

I have been astride my Anas for most of the summer and have thought often of Mr. Gwynn and how he must be as happy as a pig in poop in his new mount. Sweet boat huh, Bill? Missed you on Wednesday; maybe our boats could have mated and had pink babies. Some time we must have an Anas acuta party.

From the Coastal Pilot (page 155): “A marked increase in air density with increasing altitude causes looming, towering, and superior mirages. Looming occurs when objects appear to rise above their true elevation. Objects below the horizon may actually be brought into view. “ AND “Occasionally, a complicated vertical temperature distribution may transform hilly coastlines into impressive walls of lofty pinnacles. This phenomenon is known as Fata Morgana.”