prudenceb

A Most Lovely Day on the Water - Odiorne to Rye Harbor Saturday 7/27/13 A group of 14…or was it 13?...or was it 15? launched pretty much on time at dead low tide at Odiorne. (Counting was one of the day's activities, and with enough repetition and cross checking, we got it right: 14 launched…or was it 13?) We had managed to avoid the mud at the launch site by carrying the boats well to the left over rocky ground, then paddled out a narrow channel down the center of Seavey Creek with tall mud and sand banks on either side. Our original plan - the subject of much message board discussion prior to the trip, given NOAA's propensity to change the forecast on what seemed like a random basis at least once a day for the days preceding the trip - was to stop and interact with rocks, either intimately or at more remove, and to end up at Wallis Sands, where we'd have lunch and then head back. After going back and forth: small craft advisory, no small craft advisory, small craft advisory, no small craft advisory, NOAA settled on the morning of the trip on, yes, small craft advisory. But paddling out from behind the breakwater onto the ocean, we were met by fun and friendly swells and not much else. (Of NOAA's frequently erroneous forecasts, Rob said, "If they can't get it right, why do they bother?!") The temperature was perfect, the breeze fresh. We meandered along, pretty much staying as a group, albeit a spread out one. We stopped to play in some rocks while our compatriots waited a bit father out. We eventually reached Wallis Sands, where for the first time we could see that landing might be for some a bit of a challenge as the beach was quite crowded, and there was some surf - although not the high dumping surf some of us had been apprehensive about. Doug scouted ahead and pronounced that an area at the far end of the beach had a safe way in and fewer people. He positioned himself in a calm spot between rising waves, and waved people in one at a time. Several people landed. However, there was an on-water discussion about others' reluctance to do so given the conditions and the number of beachgoers, so in true on-water CAM fashion, we decided to split into two groups. One would either stay or land at Wallis Sands, the other would head on to Rye Harbor, the next pull out spot and then we'd meet up on the way back. But the already beached people must have immediately missed the rest of us, because they changed their minds and re-launched to join us, and we paddled as one large pod the extra mile to the welcome of the harbor. We had to skirt breaking waves before we got to the calm channel in. We lunched by the boat launch, and chatted with an older woman who pronounced that she had some apprehension sitting on the beach that someone might come up behind her and do her harm; she'd been watching too much of the Whitey Bulger trial, she said. We assured her that we would alert her if we saw anyone looming up behind her, and settled down for our lunch break. As we had paddled into the wind down to our break spot, we hoped for a push on the way back. But the wind, and sea, had died down. We went along, heading close to the beach just to the north of the harbor, and enjoyed playing among the swells and waves headed toward the beach. Ed had decided that he wanted to guide Cathy closer to the rocks, to show her the calm and safe zones that exist closer to shore - where the view is often more interesting than farther out to sea. For the rest of the way back, Cathy shadowed Ed near rocks large and small. At some point we got separated into two groups. The leading group eventually stopped, as we couldn't see our compatriots anywhere behind us. We were unable to raise them on the radio. We sat in the pleasantly bumpy water, under milky skies, chatted and waited. Glenn - good eyes! - was the first to see our missing friends in the distance. When they caught up with us, they told us that they had been delayed by carrying out a rescue. Dana related that at the end of the long beach by the Harbor, he'd been dumped over by a wave that chose to break on him. He successfully rolled up, only to see another less friendly wave staring him in the face. This wave immediately dumped him again, and he exited this time. From what I understand, Doug and others accomplished a towing rescue to get out of the surf zone. Dana pronounced the experience rather enjoyable all in all. And so we continued on back as a spread-out group, some in the rocks - Peter and Doug among others - some near the rocks, Cathy and Ed among others, and everyone just enjoying the really spectacular day. The shores of Seavey Creek as we headed in at high tide were crowded with families of picnickers and swimmers. Small motor boats bobbed just offshore. Altogether, a benign, high-summer kind of scene. We got back around 3:30, to find Gene waiting for us at the launch. He had come late, looked for us at Wallis Sands, and ended up having himself a lovely day doing our original trip, only without the rest of us. Thank you Cathy, Ed, Dana, Jim, Rob, Warren, Doug, Peter, Leon, Liz, Judy, Dave and Glenn for another excellent day out on the water. There, got it right: 14 launched, 14 returned! pru

That's fine, Judy - see you at the launch.

love to have you, Leon - see you at 9:30 tomorrow! pru

too funny!

The launch side is the bigger parking area on the near side. It's free and doesn't go underwater when the tide comes in! Plan for launch at 9:30 - with pre-launch beach briefing. Again, could people please send me float plan info. Thanks! Looking forward to tomorrow. (We should still take another look at the forecast and at this thread, but absent notice the trip is cancelled/changed, assume that we are on!) pru

I too have been tracking the weather, and the NOAA discussion is predicting winds/seas below sca levels tomorrow. Unless there's significant change for the worse through the day - and we can make final decision this afternoon or early evening - I'd be inclined to say, "let's go!" Again, particularly given the conditions, I'd like to have people's info for float plan prior to launch tomorrow - so those who haven't already, please pm me with your cell #, emergency contact, boat description, and car make color license. Thanks! Looking forward to hearing other people weigh in. pru

Thanks for your thoughts, Doug. Yes, a good idea to all check in and discuss tomorrow. I do not relish the thought of trying to land in big dumping surf, but would relish the thought of riding on fun predictable swells away from the shore and rocks. Where would one put in for the Newburyport trip? pru

Cathy, I think that we have enough skilled paddlers in the crew that we can keep each other comfortable and safe if the conditions don't deteriorate further. I would encourage you to come. However we should keep an eye on the forecast. If it looks as though things are getting too wild, we could always think of another venue that might offer some protection - I would appreciate others' thoughts on this. I won't have email access from tomorrow morning until midday, but folks can weigh in and I will as well. Feel free to email if you wish to discuss further. And hopefully everyone will keep track of the thread in case we need to make any changes in the current plan. pru

Looks as though we will have a nice group and maybe a bit of bounce and wind on Saturday. It's all good. Just bring those helmets if you plan to crash into rocks! To put together the float plan, could everybody please pm me with: name and cell, emergency contact, boat and description, car make/model and license #. (even if you've given me this info before) Thanks! pru

previously unpaddled by oneself, I assume? pru

This Saturday July 27, join us for an L3 meander down the NH coast from Odiorne to Wallis Sands, with time for interacting with rocks for those who would like to do so. We will launch in mud and return to firmer ground with low tide a little after 9 am, and high tide around 3:30 pm. BIB at 9:30 am with beach briefing to precede. Please post interest here. pru

Enough will all these individual kudos - Let's put all the accomplishments into one neat thread: It is now official that the following three NSPN members have a total of 9 new BCU stars (3 stars each): Rob Folster, Dave Merriman, and Warren Parlee. Congratulations to all three of you. Must have been great to have all that NSPN support as you all assessed this Sunday. pru

Because he'll be too modest to say so, I also want to let folks know that Warren got his three star this wknd as well! He woulda/shoulda had it last year - but the roll didn't arrive til this year. Hey, better late than never, right? Way to go, guys! pru

Bravo! pru

I was out in Salem yesterday and we were just meandering along working up no sweat at all, and even with the breeze it sure was HOT. As well it might have been, as it was the hottest day of the year thus far, and a record for the date. And it sure didn't feel any cooler today. Congratulations to you all for your fortitude, discipline and speed! pru

My friend Connie will be joining us - and I will forward on her float plan info to you, Cathy - pru

Round trip, of course - pru

out and back for sure!

I'll be there. pru

When Cathy and I talked, we were talking about being off early - before predicted t-storms, so 1:30 sounds reasonable. We have to keep a weather eye out for that day, but hope you can join us! pru ps - we would definitely stay out of the way of getting run over by the Blackburn speed demons!

We are wanting an early launch because the weather forecast is calling for increased afternoon t-storms as the week goes on. So a trip to get us on and then off the water in safe time is what we're thinking about. pru

For our first trip, Warren put together a number of things, including packing lists that we'd gathered from different places, and also a wonderfully detailed exposition on LNT camping. He wrote about food and water needs. We've also tried to incorporate tips from trip members for subsequent posts - things about what to bring and etc. In our communications to trip members, we've added links to useful sites - such as for weather and where to purchase charts and so on and have addressed some of the things that go into go/no go decisions for any given trip. We've tried to communicate about changing weather forecasts as the trip day approaches and so on. Warren deserves the lion's share of the credit for all of this. When it was my turn to take over, I was able to build on everything Warren had already done. I think we both view it all as an ongoing and evolving work in progress (now there's a redundancy!). pru

exactly!

Thanks for thoughts and feedback. One thing to clarify - we weren't asking these people to move or to break camp. We could have fit in around them. Of course a larger group has no right to bump a smaller one. But when there is potentially room for everyone, and there was, can those that got there first - particularly on an island that can accomodate more than the usual number of campers - claim the whole thing? I remember when Warren and I first stopped at Crow - on a very unseasonably warm October day two years ago. There were people already camping there. But when we pulled up, they greeted us with smiles and hellos. We didn't want to camp there, but they didn't know that. It was just a very different vibe. I will try to emulate those people in the future, and not the guy from this trip. But anyway, nothing like interesting experiences to provoke thought. And it would take an army of jerks to ruin any trip to such a beautiful corner of the world! pru

NTSK Camping Trip to Muscongus Bay: There’s a Place for Us July 13-14. 2013 Shari, Beth, Sue, Pablo, Warren and I met for the last in the 2013 series of NTSKC trips on another Saturday morning when the Weather Gods smiled down on us as we gathered at Muscongus Harbor. We talked with the man who oversees the parking area, and he told us that over the weekend of the Fourth, he had 50 cars jammed into the lot – although 12 of them were there for an island funeral, with the deceased in his casket being motored over that morning as well. This weekend after, there were only four cars tucked into a back corner – long-time customers who have houses on the islands nearby. Still, I was concerned about whether on such a beautiful weekend, now that we are in high summer, there would be room for us on our planned destination, Crow Island. Ed Lawson had been good enough to let us know that there would be an AMC group on Thief, so we had crossed that off the list of potential sites. We spoke with S -, a trip leader for the local kayaking company that paddles out of the Harbor, who was awaiting the arrival of about 10 customers for a day paddle. He gave us some tips about nice areas to visit, and even told us about a non-MITA island where it is possible to camp. We then attended to the packing efforts of our compatriots. When we were finally loaded up, we noticed for the first time the group that would be going out with S -: a flock of lovely, nubile 15 years old girls, whose preferred paddling clothing – shorty shorts and bikini tops – put our nerdy neoprene-and-etc outfits to shame. But practically clad as we were, we launched at the appointed hour of 10 am. We took the usual route under blue skies on flat water: launch to Hog, Hog to Crow. As we approached the camping site on Hog, we saw a few kayaks launching. They were daytrippers out of Round Pond and we chatted briefly with them. They knew about the Thief group, but didn’t know about Crow. On such a beautiful day it was rather stupid to be feeling apprehensive, but I was worried about getting to Crow and staking our claim. And when we rounded the eastern side of Crow and could see the landing site, a long expanse of seaweed covered rocks at this low tide, my heart sank: there were a few – two? three? four? – plastic kayaks on the rocks above the high tide line. I volunteered to land to check things out. As I glided up to the exposed seaweedy rocks, a 20ish man emerged from the trees. His body language couldn’t have been any less welcoming if he had been waiting for us sitting in a rocking chair on one of the granite ledges with a shotgun across his lap. I stumbled up onto the beach and said hello, to which I got a grunted response, and asked how many were in his group. “Two,” he answered. There were indeed only two kayaks. I peered beyond him into the trees and could see two tents, widely spaced, a hammock slung between two trees in another area. He looked unhappily at the five paddlers hovering off shore. “Mind if you might have company tonight?” I asked brightly. He responded, “Why don’t you try Hog?” then…. “Why don’t you try Strawberry?” OK, now I was getting annoyed. You don’t own this island, buddy! No doubt there was an edge in my voice when I answered that Strawberry was suitable for about two tents. “Well, you can try Hog,” he said. Again. This whole interaction was a new experience for me in my kayaking life. As hard as I tried, and I did try, I could not restrain myself from pointing out that Crow has an 11 camper capacity. My blood pressure was going up: Well, there’s Strawberry. Well, there’s Hog. Well, you don’t own this island, bub and are you even a MITA member?? I managed to keep my mouth more or less shut, but left saying that he might be seeing us again. Aren’t we supposed to leave this unpleasantness on land? Isn’t the fellowship of kayak campers supposed to be all…kumbaya? Apparently not. Through gritted teeth I told the group what I had learned once we were away from the island. I struggled not to let this experience overtake and own me. I thought of George Costanza on “Seinfeld” shouting, “SERENITY NOW!!” as I tried to calm myself down. Don’t let one or two jerks ruin the day. Serenity now. Warren and I discussed other options: Hog, and two not very pleasant campsites on another nearby island that we had visited before. One of the sites would optimally require heavy machinery and a hoist to get all the boats up on top of a high bluff, and the other had a large expanse of mud at low tide – when we would be launching for our return on Sunday morning. We stopped at Strawberry, an island too small to accommodate our group (unless we were all willing to triple bunk), and checked it out. Warren and I decided that we would just keep with our original plan for the day – to circumnav Bremen Long Island, and then peel off to visit the little group of islands that Boatlaunch Sam had told us about. Hog would be a possibility for camping, although I’m not wild about platform tenting. What I did know was that I didn’t want to return to Crow and spend another minute with that jerk… After entertaining a few more dark thoughts: of paddling over to Crow under cover of darkness and blowing our fog horns loudly to wake him and his friend… I managed to…serenity now…shake off the bad vibes, and the happy day picked up again. We stopped at Hand Warmer Cove on the northwestern side of Bremen for lunch – although Warren, attracted by some rocks jutting out into the cove, insisted that we land in a shallow area next to them that turned out to have a floor of sucking mud. We all managed to exit our boats and also manage our steps until we were safely on a firm surface. The mud tried to claim our footwear, but did not succeed. After lunch, we continued the paddle. We watched an osprey in the big cove at the north end of the island. Shari just dodged getting pooped on by a duck flying by. She pronounced that is good luck to be crapped on by a bird, but I will leave that luck to others. When we rounded the tip of the island and headed south again, the predicted 5 kt winds from the south had perhaps doubled. But we hugged the shoreline, avoiding the max flood current in the middle of the channel, and had no problem making good progress. At one point, I looked to my left, and saw that four of us were paddling in perfect formation, side by side, stroke for stroke, in a shadowed line that didn’t break down at all. Warren noticed it as well, and we smiled thinking of the recent web site thread about the proper formation for a channel crossing. We had one coming up, and we vowed to put our CAM lessons to the test. But first, a stop on a cobbly beach for a stretch. I found a nice keeper of a stone: sitting on my hand, it looked like a Maine island emerging from a surrounding fog. (It is now sitting on a shelf in my shower!) And then we were at the southern end of Bremen and gathered everyone up. We were going to cross a channel to Cow Island to the south. Warren and I suggested the plan: committing to keeping in a row, close together, for the crossing. He took the left side and I the right. And so we were six paddlers side by side, maintaining the line as we crossed. At one point I called out, “Let’s speed it up to beat that boat that’s coming our way!” – when there was no boat at all - but it was an exercise, and so we all sped up, and still kept the line. Beth to my left was smiling broadly, looking at the four paddlers to her left, saying she wished she had a helmet cam to make a movie of the pretty boats flying along tucked one next to the other beside her. And so we reached a pretty cove on Cow, and stopped to admire the real estate – not to mention the signs informing us not to camp, picnic or light fires. Despite the number of trips we’ve taken to Muscongus Bay, neither Warren nor I had ever investigated the shore of Cow Island, which had one really lovely spot: a small shed-like two story house perched on the rocks right above the sea, the front façade a wall of windows, and to the right, a hammock, no…two hammocks…make that three hammocks slung between the trees, and a picnic table. Now that would be a nice place to spend the night. But of course, no camping, no picnics, no fires… We continued onward, ending up eventually at the island that S- had told us about. As we approached, we saw what we thought was an immature eagle – because he didn’t yet have a white head. He was cruising in slow circles then landed on the very tip of an evergreen tree a bit inland, and balanced as his perch, a single vertical spike on the top of the tree, moved in the breeze. S- had told us there was a beach on the north side which made a nice landing spot. It was just on the far side of high tide, and other than a sliver of sand between some jumbled rocks, there was little that looked like a beach. Pablo volunteered to take a twirl around the outside of the island to see what he could find, while the rest of us gazed up, hoping to see the eagle once again after it flew from the tree. Pablo came back to report that he’d found a cobble beach to the south, which we all went to investigate. We got out, but found no evidence of the camping sites we’d been told about. Pablo bounded off along the rocks to see what he could find on land, and returned to tell us that there was indeed a campsite right above the miniature high tide beach. And so we turned around and went back to the first spot. We found a nice – if somewhat junky – camping area, and figured out that there would be room for all of us. As the day was getting on, we decided to call it our place for the night. Hauling the boats out of harms way was a bit of a challenge, but one that we met. And so after setting up camp, we gathered on the flat rocks – which were remarkably free of gull poop! – and provided nice jutting shelves that were perfect for sitting. Two of the ladies – Beth and Shari – went for a swim. Others of us wandered about a bit and looked at rocks. And supper commenced. Warren started with his main course (a trial of an Ed Lawson-recommended Uncle Ben’s rice dish), moved on to dessert (homemade oatmeal cookies courtesy of Shari), topped it all off with appetizers (apples and cheese from Beth and a slew of ready-made salads that Sue had picked up at a local store as she had had no time for food prep after returning from a stay in Florida tending to an elderly relative). The rest of us consumed dinner in a more ordinary sequence, and washed it all down with an amusing little box of malbec. A beautiful sunset over some seal-covered rocky ledges in the distance. Pablo, on his first camping trip on either land or sea, Shari, Sue and I stayed up to watch the sunset. Sue found an interesting way to stretch out to enjoy the evening. And then to bed by 9. Warren had gotten us all enthused about enjoying the sunrise. At 4:15, I peeked out of my tent, which was facing east, and saw a soft pinkening sky over the next island, and also a bank of what looked like fog behind it. At 4:45 I heard Warren walk past my tent on his way to sit on the rocks to enjoy the beginning of the day. I again looked out of my tent, to see that we were completely socked in with fog. First Shari, then Sue stumbled quietly down onto the rocks to greet the day, enveloped as it was in gray. I got up as well, and we watched the sun hinting of its intention to appear ...then disappearing again. Finally, in every direction, we could see the very tips of trees emerging above the fog on islands across the way. And in that mysterious way that fog dissipates, whole islands emerged from the inside out. And so a day that was clearly going to be very still, very sunny and very hot began. We had decided to launch by 8, to investigate the Crotch Islands, where Warren had heard there might be eagles nesting. As he and I waited on the water while the others launched, Warren did two loaded-boat rolls, pronouncing the experience “refreshing” when he came up. It was almost flat calm and windless as we loaded up and prepared to launch. We crossed over to the Crotch Islands, and when we arrived, we saw not eagles, but anxious ospreys, circling and peeping: there were two large nests in two different dead trees, and we could see two heads poking up out of one of them. We paddled between the little islands. Warren did another roll – or was it two? Then we re-commenced the usual site-seeing: the disintegrating ship, which since we were last there in May had clearly fallen apart more. The bow is now very splintered, hardly holding its bow shape any more. How many more seasons, tides, storms will it take before it’s all just a complete jumble? And we paddled slowly back toward our take-out. As we pulled up near a dock by the ramp out of the water, a man was sitting in his underwear next to three clothed friends. They all laughed wildly, and he grabbed a wetsuit to hide himself. We assured him that as kayak campers we have lost any sense of modesty and he had nothing to fear from us! It turned out the group was searching for an iPhone that one of them had dropped into the water the day before. Indeed, when we launched on Saturday morning, we’d talked with one of the group, who had pronounced the water too cold for diving down to look. If they ever find that iPhone, and it works, that will be one impressive ad for the product. So after worrying about where we would rest our heads for the night, we did find that there was a place for us. But it left with me with questions about island etiquette, especially in high season. Can a small group – or two people – “own” an island with a larger capacity? I like to think that I – and our intrepid group - would have been more welcoming if the shoe had been on the other foot. And so this series of trips end. Pablo pronounced that in joining the group, he’d been taking this “kayak camping” business for a test drive. I asked him when we landed, “So are you buying?” And his answer was an enthusiastic yes. Excellent! Warren and I both learned a lot, got some very good suggestions from each group, have already incorporated some of them, and will use more of them next year – god willing and the creek don’t rise pru