prudenceb

Two Romanys Went Into a Bar Mt. Desert Island, July 30, 2014 Have you heard the one about the two Romanys that went into a bar? Well, actually, it was two Romanys that went out from a bar, a sand bar at that, but I get ahead of myself here. While I was spending a week up on Mt. Desert with non-paddling friends, Barb Kraft (she of the many names: Barb Kraft aka Barb Kraft Todd aka Barb Todd) and I arranged to meet up at the One Stop in Somesville, from which we would proceed to the low tide bar out to the island that gives Bar Harbor its name for a planned trip out to the Porcupines. One problem: Barb said that as she came over the causeway from Trenton to MDI, there was a big fog bank hanging over that side of the island. While it had been a cheerful sunny morning at my rental house on the Quiet Side of MDI, the cool water of the incoming tide was hauling a dense fog in with it. While the sun was hanging for the moment on Bar Harbor, the fog bank was hanging over Bar Island behind Barb, and the Porcupines were completely obscured. This called for a change in plans since 1) it would have been fun to actually see the Porcupines and 2) neither of us was enthused at the prospect of crossing a busy working harbor and channel in dense fog even with my handy portable fog horn at the ready. So we decided to launch and head south and east and hugging the coastline to our right. I had never paddled out of Bar Harbor before, and Barb promised that it was a beautiful trip. She was right! Unfortunately, the fog followed us. We paddled out behind moored tour ships around a dock and then the fog really closed in. We weren't far offshore, but we wouldn't have wanted to be much farther out. We kept each other in sight. But what the heck?...where are we?! Not to worry, there was the shoreline, and there must have been magnificent mansions up there somewhere. Toward the end of a quiet cove, we saw an alluring gap in the shoreline. Barb guessed it didn't go far, but we paddled up into it anyway where it ended in a burbling brook. Although Barb had paddled this coast many times, she had never seen this spot before. Ironically, it was the presence of fog that introduced her to this new spot precisely because we had been forced to hug the shoreline. We turned around and paddled out of the little passage. We startled some geese. Really! Look closely, there are geese there! The sun started to play games with us as we continued on. Or maybe it was the fog that was playing... In any event, things momentarily brightened and we could almost see shadows on the rocks. It started to get cliffier, with mini-Thunder Holes reaching into the rocks. Mini-booms! as the swells poured in. The cliffs got higher, but the incoming swells were friendly and we could get close up and ride them up and down the face of the rock. I was awed by it all. Felt pretty small. The rocks apparently made Barb pretty happy and she rode into one of the clefts in the rocks although was glad that she got out before a considerably larger swell came and really crashed into the area that she'd just vacated. Nice rock formations, too. The fog shut out the sun again. Time to stop for a stretch break in a little cove that wasn't named on the chart. Barb clambered up some rocks and found what she said was the foundation of one of the cottages (what most of us would callmansions) that burned down in the Great Bar Harbor Fire of 1947 that decimated parts of the island. I enjoyed this very angular rock formation with its two pools plus a rather mysteriously placed stump. The two Romanys rested while we explored. Then it was time to head back north. Boats loomed out the fog. We saw that there was a single line of lobster buoys anchored equidistant from the shore for some distance as we paddled along. A ledge that lobsters like, perhaps? The sun was having more success, and what had been hidden on the way out began to be revealed. This is one of Barbs favorite play spots. Kinda keeping it a secret in this photo! She liked this one, too. We sat for a time off of a cobbled beach with our bows touching the rocks as the swell washed us up then in then out. The rocks were pretty nice, and I grabbled and secured a few to bring back as mementos. (Just as a trip without an eagle is a failure for Warren, a trip without a good rock leaves something to be desired for me!) We went into another cove. I believe Barb called it Compass Cove, but again it was unnamed on the chart, with a long stretch of white beach and boards sticking weirdly out of the sand. As we paddled in to get a closer look, I saw a lumbering movement on the shore. A woodchuck! Who proceeded to settle in at a nice spot overlooking the water, completely ignoring us. We figured he was one lucky woodchuck, given the high price real estate all around him. We saw a man hauling a dinghy to shore and asked him about the boards. He told us it was the remains of an old boardwalk, where ladies used to go to take their tea. Indeed... I think that we would not likely have gotten an invite. It turned out this was the cove with the mysterious passage, looking quite different now with the sun winning some of the battle against the fog. As we approached it, we saw a pergola from which I would not have been surprised to see land-based water-nymphs (if there are such things!) emerge to dance. The tide was still coming in, and we could paddle farther in, but the spot had lost some of its mystery. We paddled back to the hustle and bustle of Bar Harbor, where we could actually see the Bar Harbor mansions and hotels. There was a line of munchkins walking along the shore, tended by some older escorts. Barb went to take a closer look. Unlike others we encountered, who grabbed their cameras to take pictures of the two pretty kayaks in the fog, the munchkins ignored us. Their loss! And the fog receded and we could see the Porcupines, and decided to visit one since the crossing could be made safely. I particularly liked this boat. Barb paddled out with Bald Porcupine over her shoulder. We noodled around a bit, looked at the rocks. This wasn't as dangerous as it looked! Then with half of Bar Harbor again submerged in fog in the distance, it was time to head back. But first, a stop at a remnant of a lost civilization And the rolling fog drew us home. A really splendid day out on the water, when conditions forced a change in plans that made the day mildly magical. For those of you signed up for the NSPN Downeast Paddle Retreat, this will serve as a taste of what's to come. I am hoping for some less foggy days, and for seas calm enough to allow a passage from Seal Cove to Bar Harbor! Thanks to Barb for her company and local knowledge. I look forward to more of both from her when we're all there again in early September! pru

I'll be there! pru

...settle for what you can. Of course, I would prefer a kayak to a stinkpot, but each to her/his own... (My sister found this waterfront property in Brookfield, VT and photographed it for me...) pru

Lovely report and photos, and so nice to run into Cath launching at the bridge, and to see you to exchange those air hugs before we headed off on our separate ways! pru

Wow, that covers a lot of the questions I had. I'd also be interested in the issue of food... What worked, what didn't ( if anything), how much did you think you needed to consume each days to keep up energy. Typical breakfast, lunch and snacks. Etc. Also, more on packing the boat, which David addressed in his post. pru

David, Thanks for your additional commentary. It helped me to understand more about the prep, logistics, daily challenges and so on. The combo of your and Warren's extensive notes/ reports has certainly been inspirational! pru

Warren, Just as you were sad when your expedition ended, I am sad to have reached the end of your trip report. Thank you for letting us vicariously join you and your buddies - human, animal and winged creatures - on this most excellent adventure! pru

Thanks for further details. Your expedition was in some ways a shake down cruise for all your further expeditions. I will be very interested to speak further with you about all this. Do I see a new - red! - four season tent in my future? I think I finally do! pru

The latest installment...A great way to start the day! But a question: you said that you'd learned during the storm how critical equipment can fail. Could you say more about this? pru

Up in Boothbay reading the ongoing saga. Most excellent! pru

"... learn how to kayak PWS with safety and style..." Style! Now you're talkin'! pru

How nice to have a continuing saga to read! Amazing! pru

Excellent start to the ongoing trip report! One question: when did David creep into my back yard, peel the polar bears off my boat, and transport it to Alaska?! pru

I'm happy to be able to do it in seven hours, so I am SUPER impressed! Way to go, everyone! pru

I'm in! pru

Weird Seas/Lovely Day Odiorne to Rye Harbor Saturday July 19, 2014 The day started with a small miracle. Everyone was on time and we actually launched ten minutes early! How often does that happen with a group of nine with a proper beach briefing (beef breaching) and all? And so Rob, Cathy, Gene, Connie, Dave, Jeff, Joyce, Mike and I set out for what had become in the days before we met up, a paddle with a lobster roll as a goal. While Cathy doesnt even eat lobster, she had been good enough make the suggestion that we have lunch at a little lobster shack at Rye Harbor. Everyone hopped on board this idea with alacrity. It'salways good to have a goal for a trip! The other goal was to do some rock play. Here, the day's weird seas played a bit of a diabolical role. The NOAA forecast had called for three foot seas with five knot winds - a lovely combination of bump and mellowness. As it turned out, the sea was if not glassy, close to it, with slow swells (did someone say two feet at 11 seconds?). The sun never really came out, so our day was under grey skies on grey seas. After rounding the breakwater and turning right toward Rye, most of us took the opportunity to don helmets and play in one of the first groups of rocks we came upon. A few stayed out a bit, while the rest of us did some circling in and out of the rocky area. All went well, and a few of us were pushed through on nice little waves. We continued on, believing there would be more of this to come as we meandered south. We came to the second grouping of rocks. Here, there was an outside passage, a middle passage, and an inner passage. I found the outer too sporty, the inner too weenie, but the middle just right. Of course Rob had his eye on the outer passage, which required more finessed timing than the other routes. After spending the requisite amount of time surveying the action of the swells, he committed with fast acceleration, and made it through. And a second time. Third time wasnt a charm. Rob had his first wipeout in the rocks (he had been envious of Cathy, who managed this feat at the Solstice Paddle), and I had my first opportunity to use some of those CAM on-water day learned skills to use a contact tow to pull him out. Never mind that it was a benign enough area that he could have made it to safety on his own. It was at the very least nice to know what to do, and to do it. Take this as another encouragement to those who havent done so to join future CAM training sessions. There really are skills and lessons learned! Oh, another lesson learned on Saturday. The water was cold. Maybe feeling more so because the day wasnt particularly warm. We continued on. And as we scouted out more configurations of rocks, noticed that the sea was just being weird. An area that looked completely passable minute after minute, and impassable as a wave set came through, suddenly changed up the rhythm of waves and calm. And in the midst of nothing, here would come a big swell that on hitting the outer edge of the rocks would generate a wave that pushed all the way through the zone. There appeared to be neither rhyme nor reason to the rhythm. If Andy hadnt bailed on us at the last minute to go get proper instruction with Tom Bergh instead, I think we could have counted on him to venture into these areas waves be damned!! But caution (mostly) prevailed. We continued on. And considered stopping at Wallis Sands but were discourage by what looked like dumping surf at the beach. No one was up for a mass surf landing and so wecontinued on. The swells kept coming. Paddlers to my left kept disappearing and reappearing. Big swells broke over shoals farther out to sea. We approached Rye Harbor, threaded our way through several areas of breaking waves, and pulled out at the boat ramp at the far end of the harbor. Half of us had the vaunted lobster rolls (and the efficiency - or lack thereof - of two teenage girls trying to make five lobster rolls...well, that is a story for another day), while others found another venue for non-fish sandwiches. A leisurely lunch at a picnic table, and then off we went for the trip back. The weird unpredictable rhythm of the swells got weirder, and we approached and backed off from numerous areas. We were joined for part of the paddle back by a tenth paddler, a woman named Charlotte from Ontario who was in a little wooden Pygmy kayak. She appeared to be a proficient paddler, who has guided in the past. The sky stayed grey. The water stayed cold. The waves stayed unpredictable. But there were a few areas where you could catch a swell/wave and ride it for a while. Fun! And so we were ultimately back behind the breakwater and pulled onto a nice sandy beach for a stretch and a bit of brief boat swapping. Somehow a mellow paddle had turned into a longish day, and we were all a bit tuckered out when we reached the boat launch. I enjoyed the day for the company, the familiar route, the strange conditions (love those swells!), and for the few times that we were able to venture intoand successfully out ofsome rocks. Thanks to everyone for coming alongand a special thanks to Cathy for her Lobster Inspiration, which should become a required part of any Odiorne paddle in the summer months. pru (I forgot to bring my camera, so if there are any photos of the day, I didn't take 'em!)

Andy, I've rented a cabin with three other women. I am sure that Warren and others will want to tent somewhere. If you prefer that, you'll have buddies to do it with I'm sure... pru

Reminder to all interested: please PM me your info for float plan. Thanks. pru

Many of us have camped here. Wonderful spot. I'm getting out my checkbook to donate now, and would encourage others to do the same. If these islands end up on the open market for sale.... pru

[quote curently recovering from camping on the Marshall Island and 50k miles in three days. Yikes, fifty thousand miles in three days!! Gene, you are quite literally superman! ;-) pru

We should be back mid afternoon, Al, so time to get back to Boston...

Join me this Saturday for one of my favorite paddles along this lovely stretch of NH coastline. Level three paddle. Opportunity for rock play for those so inclined. Long range weather forecast looking promising! Beach briefing at 9:30, launch at 10 am. Post interest here. And PM me with float plan info. You know the drill: cell phone #, boat and car info and emergency contact. pru

I'll be with you in spirit. Cathy, please find some interesting...but not TOO interesting...spots to squeeze thru, ok? pru

Franco Ferraro "Sea kayak navigation" pru

Wonderful day for the L3 rocks crowd, with Doug and Scott and Rob standing by helping the more timid of us through some narrow shallow openings. Cathy had her first capsize in the rocks, even hit her head (which was, of course, helmet-covered), and pronounced herself just fine -- and ready for more! We stopped at a truly spectacular little pebble beach complete with a small cave for lunch. Our group of ten was mellow and funny, and one of the highpoints was watching Doug and Andy towing to safety a big powerboat that had lost its power and was drifting toward the rocks at Children's Island. Those tow belts really do come in handy! Thanks to everyone for the paddle and solstice supper! pru