The heavy rain stopped before we unloaded the kayak. Wondering whether I would keep my feet dry I set off at 6.00am for what would be a 9km walk to the canal through the streets of Trenton. Traffic was still light although many people were out and about. Renate leapfrogged with the car and got some good images.

The route was along the river for about 2km, around the edge of the city and then along the canal bank past the beams supporting the walls. Along the river bank were signs describing what a productive wetland the opposite bank had been even as late as 1915. Both Native Americans and European settlers used what is known as the Delaware Falls, just upstream of the wetlands, to walk across the river so it was a hub or focal point for a very long time.

Dug by the Irish 1831-1834 the canal linked the Delaware and Raritan Rivers and thus New York to the Delaware. It is a terrific paddle, starting off noisy from nearby traffic, becoming quiet and serene for many miles past Princeton University and then noisy again coming into New Brunswick.

Not that I am competitive, (ha ha) but I wanted to finish the canal in a day. For the record, in case anyone wants to beat it, from the Delaware to the end of the canal at the Raritan it was 62km and it took 11hrs 10mins. That’s 9km walking and 53km paddling not counting the portages around the locks, of which I think there were five but maybe it was six. There are enough to make a paddler well and truly over them by the end of the day.

Next day, New Brunswick to Staten Island, was an easy paddle but bleak with lots of smog. The river is brown and murky until you get towards the mouth and then becomes much clearer. Around Staten Island it was salty and a very slight swell rolled in from the Atlantic.

Renate          The landing point at Great Kills State Park on Staten Island is perfect and will be easy for Steve to spot. 8am, I have several hours at the beach, but it’s foggy, windy and cool. I decide to walk down the beach, collecting shells, taking pictures of heaps of plastic trash – washed up or left behind? Around the corner and into the calmer bay I run into a green horseshoe crab on the water’s edge. It’s not moving; is it alive? I grab a stick to gently move it. It feels like it’s suctioned to the ground. Here comes another one. Wow, three in a row in the sand, like a choo-choo train! Over there are five in a heap. Way up on the beach a horseshoe crab on its back. Not moving, but all organs still look intact. Must have just died.

I’m standing in the water, utterly amazed. Horseshoe crabs following each other, some heading straight for me like little slow moving puppies, turning around – wrong mate. Haha, those two are using a condom! A large plastic bag got in between them. The one out there in the water sticking up its tail must be a water acrobat. Horseshoe crabs are everywhere on this beach, clinging to each other, digging into the sand or crawling around. I’m utterly fascinated.

On my way back I see the green one again. There is another one underneath, almost completely buried in the sand. That explains the suction I felt.

Back on the rougher Atlantic beach there are two horseshoe crabs washed up on their backs. When I turn them over, they immediately head for the water – only to be pummeled around some more in the surf. That’s what you get when you try to mate at the wrong beach.

When loading up the kayak we talk to a guy who is familiar with the wildlife in this area. The horseshoe crabs are mating for only about one week each year. They are a 4-5 days late this year, because the water has been slightly cooler. (Due to this year’s cold winter, or the slowing Gulf Stream?)

Horseshoe crabs are 450 million year old living fossils. Their blue blood is used to test medical equipment for bacteria. Numbers on the US East Coast have declined because crabs die if too much blood is taken or if experiencing too much stress.

I keep thinking about the crab get way up on the beach. Did seagulls drag it there? Or a person? I regret I just left it there, thinking, this is the way life works.

Let’s go

 For the dirty water readers

 Start of the walkway along the Delaware

 Lots of old machinery

Herding Canadian geese

 Note steel beams across the canal to hold the walls up

 First of many entries for the day

View from upstream

Looking back

Entering again

 Walking around another lock, soaking wet after falling in at the exit. There was a thorny bush to climb over. The water was clear and shallow and I was standing on the seat. To be sure I braced myself by leaning on the paddle on the side away from the bank. Woops, not shallow. Bugger. Too late! A/T.

Just enough room on many bridges

Talking to the New York mayor’s office. Like all of the others on the trip, (except Vicksburg) unsuccessfully.

 Nice

 That’s the canal spilling into the river, just near the end.

 The end, at the Raritan River

Commuters into New Brunswick

Many bridges need maintenance

Lots of wetlands below New Brunswick

Pretty sure this is a landfill dump. Why the 10m high fence? Further round there is a big array of solar panels

Looks quite English

 Serious bridges. The new ones are three lanes each.

 The seagull guards a shag colony. Note the size of the chick the mother is feeding, and the dead one hanging below

Dull, bleak, smoggy – view along Staten Island

 Hey, I’m at Staten Island, New York!!!!!

Cutting out a mile or so wasn’t any big deal I guess, and we need to keep the local coppers happy. Set off from a narrow cut through from the canal to the Delaware River. Forgot to take the camera. Bugger!

The Delaware State Police – Marine Unit must be on Canal Rd because I saw the boat that had apprehended me for my own safety yesterday. Near the exit onto the Delaware was a small barge type boat with a crane on the front and two guys on board. Because they had to travel at zero wash speed I managed to catch and pass them. They reckoned I was a show off and I reckoned some Aussies are just like that.

Out onto the Delaware they went past me with the tide running out at less than one knot. The west bank curved off into the distance into the smog with the ubiquitous oval water reservoirs hovering above the trees. It was almost like the Mississippi, same width, same huge bends but without the huge current. I straight lined it, heading for the tip of the far side bank which was actually an island. The shipping channel was on the other side where I crossed through ships doing ten times the speed of those in the canal. The island was some sort of hub with birds commuting back and forth, shags, cranes, ducks and some seagulls.

After 10km I was confronted with a deeply curved shoreline and had the option of continuing in a straight line or following the edge. The current still wasn’t too bad so the decision was to go straight. Not too smart really as the outgoing tide picked up to nearly three knots. It was a tough battle all the way to the bridge about 15km from the start. Although I could see the bridge from a long way off there was nothing to see beyond it as smog blanketed everything else.

Struggling along, way over on the west bank a horn bawed a warning about something and staccato barrages of heavy weapon fire rang out, but I was just intent on getting to the end of the stretch. Just before the bridge I pulled over to fit the skirt in anticipation of an increasing wind and some waves. The bridge came and went, and so did the wind. I hugged the shore which was a mix of residential and areas of trees and grass. A few rock groins jutted out into the river, just like the Mississippi, to clean the shipping channel out in flood. They were a bit ragged with many of the top blocks having been washed off. An abandoned island with a fallen down bridge coming from a street with an abandoned building completed a picture of decay.

A guy in a white T-shirt jumped up from behind a bush and started battling a fish. His rod bent as he struggled and two more guys appeared. A big catfish, well over half a metre long was dragged out of the murky waters amidst cheers from his mates.

Eventually I made the sports stadium to meet Renate but with the skirt on and 34 degrees I had cooked myself even though I had been dipping my hat in the water all the way. I was pretty much done in and needed a rest before loading the kayak into the box. A few beers when we arrived at the van soon fixed me up. A couple of Aussies from Bunbury rolled in complete with guitar and with our neighbours from Connecticut we had a party. Klaas called it a night maybe at about 9.30, I can’t remember exactly, saying that Stevie needed to go to bed.

Next morning at 3.30am I was glad he had done that. We were up to take advantage of the tide but I had some slight regrets at my indulgence. The river was starting to clear but the smog was worse. Through the Philadelphia city reach there was a fair bit of rubbish, the area was very industrialised and even at that time there was activity on the wharves. A couple of times the water rippled with wind but in the main it was glassy, mirroring the dirty air. It was my first early morning start in a long while so I relished that, powered on with the current and made it to the pick up point just after 10.00am. It is much smarter to paddle with the tide and stop when it turns so that was the plan for the next day too.

This is a three day post because we stayed at West Chester and internet is scratchy. Less than 200km from New York and we had to wait to move to get decent internet and phone reception. Unbelievable!

We arrived back at the ramp near a Dow Chemical factory upstream of Philadelphia right on time with the tide about to turn. Tidal range at the boat ramp was about 3m so I expected a good push up the river. After about an hour it came rushing in and lasted maybe an hour before petering out to nothing. That meant that there was not much tidal water above me. I paddled against a 15-18 knot breeze for the last 16km wondering exactly what the lack of flow would mean. Eventually I found out. Renate was at a ramp about 5km before the scheduled finish bearing news that there were rapids up ahead and a small waterfall in the canal that we thought might provide a route.

With the kayak back in its box we explored Trenton and picked a walking route, avoiding the maze of freeways, which should be less than 10km long and put me in a canal connected to the New York system.

Posting this now from Freehold on the outskirts of New York the internet is pathetically slow with many images of only 150KB not making it, so no photos until we get some sort of decent connection. I am on AT&T after finding T-Mobile unworkable in most areas we went, and it costs $75/mth and is only reliable in some areas.

Klaas        We went to Intercourse yesterday. Yes, you heard it right first time. I may or may not admit not to have had it but I am referring to the town of Intercourse near Philadelphia. Besides cheese fame Intercouse is the centre for Amish people. We had a long ride in a horse drawn coach to see how they lived. Beautiful old Barnes and houses, no ugly electric or phone wires on poles to be seen. They don’t have automobiles, electricity, phones TV or alcohol. The valley is very pretty. All the houses had washing on the line drying in the sunshine. Everyone has a vegie garden and a few chooks and a piggy or two. They live the well proven old fashioned way of living and good luck to them. I could almost join them, except the NO ALCOHOL RULE IS A BIT DRACONIAN. Funnily , they do grow and smoke When I asked if that included ” Pot” they just smiled. We got soaked when walking through the town centre where they have shops selling Amish goodies, souvenirs etc. A massive downpour which only lasted ten minutes or so flooded the streets and us but the weather is very hot and humid and we were soon steaming as the sun beat down. Klaas

Setting off before the sun came up

Early morning pollution

Sun trying to break through smog and an early morning tug coming down the river

 

 Planes kept firing into the sky from behind that island

Philadelphia skyline

Philadelphia

Lift up railway bridge with road bridge behind

Another coathanger

Water treatment plant

Another one I reckon

Bristol

Maybe needs some paint

Coming towards Trenton

The sign said no swimming but I needed to cool after paddling. Note clear water

Put Julianne on the plane and Renate and I set off.

Out from Chesapeake beach it was the same heading north as it was to the south, all private. It was about 8km to the end of the land before the trip across some open water. The wind was less than 12 knots but from the south, behind me. Boats were everywhere, it being Sunday. Even kayak fishermen were out and about.

It was very an easy cruise across the bay and having forgotten my map I was wondering what landmarks I would need before I saw the bay bridge. There was no need to worry, it is such a big bugger that it peeped over the horizon 25km away.

With the bridge as an aiming point there was no need to look anywhere else so I was a long way from land most of the way. About noon the wind dropped, as it had done many times before, and then returned with a vengeance by 1.00pm. I kept the trust Fly Kayak sail up and barrelled on.

With so many boat about I guess it was inevitable that I would see a race but I didn’t expect to be in one. A forty foot yacht was on a collision course with me. My sail was on the left, meaning the wind was to starboard. The other boat had the sail on the right. My speed was slower but in the mad, frantic race that I was having I was surfing waves at 9 knots which is not too shabby. Should I call right of way? Maybe I would have in Australia but maybe their rules are opposite here. Discretion won and I passed about 10mn behind their stern.

I continued the frenetic pace to the bay bridge, pulled to the harbour just after the bridge and Renate took me home for a shower and a sleep.

The wind blew all night, just like a black nor’easter. It was about 25 knots when we reached the water at 7.30am. Keeping to my regime of safety I paddled sideways across the waves towards the point on the other side of the bay. After about 7km I reckoned if the worst happened I would be blown towards the land further up the bay but on the eastern side where I was headed. That was about 14km away but a lot better than about 60km if I missed it.

With such a breeze there was no chance of a sail. The waves made the horizon disappear when they rolled underneath meaning they were above head height. I tried not to catch a wave but some of the smaller ones picked me up when I least expected it. Close to the other side one of these shot us along at 18km/hr which is bloody fast for a plastic sea kayak.

A lone seagull came towards me. Feeling the air it almost touched the waves, drifted up and to my right, only to plunge back towards the water and swoop to my left. Underpowered it felt its way slowly through the wind going to who knows where.

About five minutes later a shag came along a similar path but with rapid, purposeful flapping about a metre above the water. It powered past. The difference was like a Mack truck compared with a postie bike.

At about 23km I was safely across, found a small beach and called Renate to let her know all was well. I wanted to take a photo as I came in with the bow of the kayak way above the land behind it as a wave rolled underneath but it was out of the question. You can’t put the paddle down in conditions like that because it is all that keeps you upright.

The shoreline bent slightly to the right so the wind came slightly behind my right shoulder while the wave refracted towards the shore and came a bit from the left. The balance was perfect and I rocketed along with the sail up. Past a neat little harbour dug into the bank with heaps of roofed area for the power boats and about 30-40 sailing boats. I was keen to photograph it but as I went past the entrance I was doing 13km/hr, just about on the plane and very busy staying upright.

It was a screamer of a run up that shore. Many times the wind tried to knock the boat flat but each time I managed to dig us out. That comes from wave skiing which is like riding the water with a cork up your bum, and from K1 racing which takes at least three months before your reactions prevent you from being unexpectedly beside the kayak instead of in it.

Before time I arrived at the pickup point but Renate wasn’t there. The message on the phone was that it was all private and she was at Betterton Beach another 2 miles or so further on. I was getting heartily sick of this private ownership of foreshore so had another pee on their beach, this time with feeling, before setting off again.

For more than half the day I had heard booming noises every few minutes. Sometimes it was like distant thunder, sometimes that was followed by a sharper sound 20km further south. Renate heard it as well so I wasn’t dreaming. I guess it was some sort of military work. For the whole east coast the military had been present in some form or another, from the roar of aircraft to acres of aerials.

Renate    Pick ups – how tricky could it be? You measure the distance you want to cover and look up a spot on google-map that has a beach and a road nearby. You enter the address into the navigator and BAM! But a mile before your meeting point you run into a sign “Private Property – No Trespassing”.

At Cove Point every single street is private, so is the beach. Residents tell you they could call the police to have you towed. There is no parking on the main road; only at the Cove Point Light House can a commoner legitimately park. At Howell Point, my journey ended about one mile away from the beach at the gate of a huge private property (I couldn’t locate anyone to ask).

I know I have a right in this country to walk on any beach, but that does not include access to the beach. I guess access belongs to the one who can pay mega bucks.

Maybe next time I’ll just drive through…

___________________

My last day on Chesapeake Bay and the wind was favourable. Setting out from Betterton it increased gradually as I came away from the lee shore. I had paddled up the arm, through the palm and was now into the fingers of the mighty Chesapeake. The route was up the little finger, smallest and to the right. My map gave me enough information to know exactly where I was. The thunder from the east bank of the bay started at 9:15 and echoed all the way to the top but because the distance was getting greater only the really big rumbles reached me. Renate heard much more from down at Betterton.

As I reached the start of the canal to the Delaware River I wondered where the boats were. Previously there had been a steady procession showing me the way. As if on cue a huge stink boat roared past with a 1m wake. Two more followed close behind but both of those slowed down for the kayak. The canal is like a river for the first bit so I guess that is the natural part and the actual canal structure starts after that. This is where the first bridge crosses and where I met a car transport ship coming towards me. It was actually going slower than I can paddle so the wake was negligible.

As the shore line had squeezed in on both sides coming up the bay I had noted a pretty good current in my favour and into the canal it increased to about 3knots. With the wind behind me, which built to a gusty 20 knots I just sat and luxuriated in an average speed of 13km/hr doing nothing except to stay up right. It was by far the easiest ride of the trip and I reckoned about time after 3,500km. Nothing lasts forever though.

A speed boat approached as I neared the pick up point. The person standing near the bow waved me down. I turned around into the wind and dropped the sail. It was a police woman with a policeman driving the boat. “You can’t kayak on the canal,” she yelled. I drifted closer, “Then how do I get to New York?” They had no answer but said maybe I could get permission to paddle it from the US Army Corps of Engineers. “Better to seek forgiveness than permission,” was my response. I guess from my questions that followed they decided not to trust me. The safety mantra was trotted out a number of times. They watched as, for my safety, I paddled over to the rock wall and turned around into the current. Again, for my safety I clung to a slippery rock with 3 knots of current trying to grab the kayak, climbed out onto the slippery rocks and dragged my 70kg (150lb) kayak 5m up the rock wall to the top of the bank. Satisfied, they sped off, returning about half an hour later having done a patrol of the whole canal I guess.

Because I had been so fast with the current and the wind helping, Renate was over half an hour away so I settled down under the bridge to wait. When she arrived she was closely followed by a police car. The speeding coppers had seen me sitting there. They really hadn’t trusted me eh. To be honest, I had tossed up what to do. Maybe run the last two miles at night, maybe start early just after sunrise, but because I was in a foreign country and had decided to behave myself, and because they don’t seem to understand flexibility of rules here I decided to just skip that bit and start again at the end of the canal.

Dan, the policeman was great to talk to. Like every contact we have had with police, troopers and sheriffs it has been a pleasure. The formal photo shaking hands didn’t come out but the informal ones did and I like them.

North of Chesapeake Beach this is Tim hoping for a fish

Like Moreton Bay or Sydney Harbour

My skirt was inside out so stopped to fix it before the blow. See the tree stumps in the water where the land used to be

Bay Bridge. This marks the start of the upper bay

Heading for rough water

If you’ve paid for a fishing charter you may as well go out in the wind. There were three boats anchored  here

Safely across and stopped to call Renate

A pusher tug towing a barge

A tree with not that long to live

The extra two miles with Betterton up ahead

Didn’t get to finish the first beer

Pulling the sail up

The other side is now really close

One of the three

Pulled in to reconnect a shroud. Don’t worry, I’m below the high tide level

Now there’s a boat!

Not sure, but no odour

Aerating the discharge

Aerial gas crossing

Raised railway bridge

Moments before the law interception. The second bridge is the pickup point

Dan is deciding whether to cuff me?

But decides that although they might be strange people this Australian is probably harmless

Renate:    The Brandywine River area is absolutely picturesque: small winding roads through forested hills and meadows, lovely historic houses dotting the landscape, millstones marking the entrance to properties. The campground near Embreeville sits right across the ChesLen Nature Preserve. Looks like there are several trails; I grab my iPad and set out for a hike.

Strange, the preserve is on the other side of the river, but the nearest bridge is almost a mile away. Don’t campers want to hike?! No wait, there is the railroad bridge! An engine is just sitting there. Seems safer than a walk on a busy, narrow street. Some of the beams holding the track have rotted away; the railing looks fragile; I see the river through a hole in the thin concrete I’m walking on. Safer to get back on the track.

I work my way through the woods to the wider path; woods and river to my left, 5 foot tall untouched grass to my right. Nobody else around. How safe is it here? If someone jumped out to get me, I would be on my own.

I’m relieved to reach the beautiful arched stone bridge bringing me back to the road. It’s narrow, the street is dropping off right at the white line, lots of traffic. I don’t feel safe at all.

Even in this part of the country, seemingly ideal for hiking, the infrastructure is almost exclusively made for cars. How different from my native Germany, where marked hiking paths would be crisscrossing this kind of landscape, inviting people to exercise and enjoy nature up close!

 

New York, what a city. So alive, so spontaneous.

Two important meetings occurred, one with the Audubon Society and one with the Manhattan Kayak Company. Because the Audubon Society is about birds and the environment they spread climate information using birds as the medium which is an excellent way of talking to people about the science via their interests. MKC is owned by Eric Stiller. He is perfectly proportioned, handsome, with close cropped beard and is almost a mirror image of me. Some might say that we are vertically challenged but I think both Eric and I agree that it is hard to beat perfection.

Enough of that rot, Eric is actually mad. He wrote a book called Keep Australia On Your Left. He and his mate Tony paddled from Sydney to Darwin more than 20 years ago. The reason that I know he is crazy is that I know the Ballina Bar well and you don’t cross it in a southerly swell. Eric and Tony were impatient and decided to chance it. They actually got out by the skin of their teeth, were blown up to Byron in double quick time and came in at The Pass where the police were waiting for them. You have to admire that. The book is a great read and I think what I do is quite tame to their exploits.

The plan is to finish at MKC maybe 21^st June. It is not far from the Statue of Liberty and had easy access to the water right in the heart of Manhattan.

Back to the camp near Washington it was time to move the RV, which is now near Annapolis. Julianne came back after the move and it was time to get back on the water again. It had to be a short day because Renate was flying into Reagan Airport so we decided to run the next leg backwards so there could be no possibility of missing the pickup time. I therefore set out from Cove Point and paddled back down to Lookout Point.

The wind was direct on shore and less than 10 knots, just as the forecast said. With the sail up set reasonably tight for the reach, the first 8km flew by. As it strengthened, I pulled the sail down and headed across the bay in a direct line for the next point. With waves above head height I was looking seawards most of the time and concentrating on the waves coming towards me. Occasionally I would get a good runner and skip along the top and down the back but most of the time I was simply trying to keep reasonably straight. That meant a lot of pressure on the pedals.

The next open bit was worse with waves about 1½ times head height and lots of white water. Still it was nothing compared to the ride up through the National Par cliffs on my way to Cronulla way back in January. Lookout Point faded into the rain as it started to bucket down. The pickup time was 1.00pm and I was going flat out trying to get there by then.

There is a causeway out to the point and while I watched the waves braking over it Julianne drove across heading the wrong way. Being about 300m off shore I knew she would have no chance of seeing me. It was about 12:45 and I reckoned that I could make it by 1:00pm so if she was off looking for me I would go and sit in the toilet block out of the rain.

A couple of hardy souls were testing their luck on the fishing jetty as I passed. Ratbags I thought as one looked up and probably thought the same about me. No-one waved, as each was concentrating on the job at hand. It was raining hard and the wind was blowing the tops off the waves as I aimed for the small beach about 1km away.

The vehicle appeared, and Julianne said that she was amazed to see me right on time at the right location. She had been off to talk to the National Park people and had an emergency number to ring. To her the sea looked very ominous because she was close to it and could see its fury. There was also a small boats warning out apparently. To me it was a bit worse than the day I turned turtle on the Rappahannock.

We signalled to each other and she drove to the small patch of sand. I folded the rudder up, reckoned the set that was passing underneath was three waves and committed to following the last wave onto the shore. Bugger! The set was four waves, bad blue. It picked me up, flung me sideways and dumped me unceremoniously onto the sand. Out like a flash I grabbed the bow and hauled the kayak onto the beach and out of the waves. Soaking wet, Julianne helped me to get it over the rocks and into the roof box. It had been a bit of fun for me but quite worrying for Julianne.

We called into the Park station and reported all was well and headed for the showers only to find that the park was closed due to the bad weather. It was just like a rain depression at home, not a cyclone but warming up to that.

We settled for hot chips up the road a bit, headed for the airport, found Renate and then spent two hours in traffic. All in all a very varied day and in my mind very successful with all goals accomplished.

The following day was Renate’s first day on duty. She dropped me off and then drove to the pickup. All was fine. The paddle was uneventful and after the sun fought off the heavy clouds and finally broke through it was a very pleasant afternoon with a light breeze.

 Klaas

When Steve was young,  he sat on the “Loo”

wishing, while straining, he had a canoe

He rushed to his parents and said;

I want a kayak,and its got to be yellow

and then his mother said:

Listen young fellow

listen good or I’ll bellow

a kayak takes a man to paddle

like a cowboy glued to his saddle

 

Stevie boy the kayak kid

was strong and very fit

looked at his mother and said

I belong in in a kayaks  cockpit

paddling up and down the water

like an overgrown bloody otter

 

So Stevie grew up and became a man

bought a yellow kayak ,acquired a tan

started to paddle whenever he can

find a new river or lake or stream

always in the kayak he was to be seen.

 

When he grew older he became  bolder

did the Murray Darling and places beyond

then without caring he became daring

and decided to cross the great pond

 

Starting in Canberra and traveling South

he walked his kayak to lake Illawarra’s mouth

paddling the ocean, going  North East

The opera House his destination

where awaited a feast.

 

On to America and the Mexican Gulf

up the mighty Mississippi, to North of Memphis, Tennessee

where the flood waters stopped him, and then he,

bought himself a bicycle and did a thousand miles

until the coast appeared again and with a lot of smiles

went back to paddling the Chesapeake coast

North to New York, an other thousand miles or so

than over to Europe, to have another go.

Ready to go!

Lots of communication aerials

Cove Point Lighthouse

Shags guarding the fishing nets

Shags on the fly

The dome is for LNG. Seems like they frack to get it and not everyone is happy about that. Surprise, surprise.

Off shore LNG loading platform

Dunno, but probably LNG processing

Houses peep out from the trees all along this section of coast

Lots of communication aerials

Why build away from the beach when you can go right to it? Oh, maybe because you could get wet when the water rises.

No need to worry with RVs though, stick ’em on the beach and move ’em if necessary

Very different buildings to Oz

Saw four commercial crabbers today (none yesterday in the waves)

Not a bad spot eh!

Chesapeake Beach – no kayak access, all is private

Not good for kayak launching

Chesapeake Beach harbour

Lucky it isn’t low tide

From last week at Maryus

It took until 1.30pm to get on the water after organising the phone and then taking a short cut. It is 10km from Bud’s place to the end of the peninsula and it is about 500m from his place to the north side of the peninsula. No contest there, on went the wheels and I set off in about 30 degrees. It was hot and sweaty but out on the water things cooled down as the breeze picked up.

About 2.30pm it was on again, full blast with lots of waves, lots of slewing right and paddling hard with the right blade. The waves increased to chest height so I kept my paddle in my hand and did not relax. The water was shallow a lot of the way with fish poles and nets up to 2km further out than me so there were lots of breaking waves.

I missed the finish by going too far but was an hour early. Cell phones don’t work there so a kindly couple allowed me to pull out of the water at their place and call Julianne with a new pick up point. There were lots of pine needles on the ground so I lay down and closed my eyes while I waited. The day had been short but a mad dash through breaking waves and the rest was welcome.

Back at Bud’s, Charley informed me that Charlie is no name for a dog so please excuse my spelling yesterday. Also Cathie corrected me with her spelling. Seems like I got Bud right though. Phew, one out of three.

Klaas

Stevie boy got wet

way out in the Chesapeake sound

and I take a bet

he only went half way around

when the kayak rolled over

what’s the matter old rover

never heard of the Eskimo roll ?

do 360 degrees and have a ball.

So next time you venture

in a 20 knot breeze

with all sails set

eating your sandwich with cheese

if the wind comes from starboard

lift up your arse

point it in its direction and let go

so to equalise the flow.

 

Back on the water early the goal was to cross the Potomac.  No worries there. The strong breeze had not come up so it was a very pleasant paddle, although hot with sweat running down my cheeks, all the way up the shore and across to the north side.

I stopped to check with a guy mowing his lawn before crossing. His name was Dan and he knew the bay and the distances so that was a relief. He was also firmly of the opinion that climate change has been invented by the scientists to get funding from the government. Nothing will change his view on that.

Total on the log before heading to New York for a few days R&R is 3462.1km

Nice island out to sea from me

Forest at edge of bay

The route in 

Now to find out where I am

About 1km out but look hard and there are more a lot further out

Shags rule here

The first and only sand hill I saw

Pelicans, finally in numbers we are used to

Finishing over the rocks

Time for a breather

And off to the car in the background

The wind was about 8 knots almost behind me when I set of from the marshes near the York River. There was a 10km bump in the coast where I had to cross a bay before turning north again. With such favourable conditions it was a breeze, so to speak. Although I could see some trees to aim for, when I got closer there was a lot of low land jutting out to my right. What looked like a big pole and eventually materialised as a light house became my target.

Slipping between the lighthouse, mounted on a pile of rocks in the bay, and the sand flats exposed at low tide I noticed more sea birds. The kayak just cleared the bottom threading my way through a gap in the sand. The water was clean, the smell from the sea birds gathered on the sand bar was strong and clearing the other side a family of about ten dolphins greeted me. This seemed to me to be a healthy environment.

The trip up the coast was in very shallow water a lot of the time, sometimes only half a metre. Apparently they say the best way not to drown in Chesapeake Bay is to stand up. Certainly for much of what I paddled on that was the case.

There were still quite a few people about even where there were no houses, and a few commercial fishermen tending there traps. The wind was in its softer stage prior to setting in strongly. As I got towards the Rappahannock River it picked up and there was almost surf across some shoals.

The aim was Bud Ward’s house on the north side of the river. I had checked Google Earth and reckoned that I could guess where it was but to be sure I aimed slightly to the east, ready to come along the shore where Julianne could wave me in. I called her before the crossing and as I was early, decided to slow down a little and just sailed with the odd paddle stroke. The crossing is 9km and about halfway the waves got quite big with the wind around 20 knots. Two sailing boats in the area were struggling with sails for some reason and I really sympathised with the guy whose headsail was in a knot halfway up.

After eating a sandwich I then opened the spray deck again to get out my water bottle. As I unscrewed the cap it, cap in one hand, bottle in the other, a wave slewed the kayak to the left. The sail crashed across to the starboard side and over I went. The paddle went to port so grabbing that was number one priority and then holding the kayak was number two.

Upside down in a rough bay it was time to evaluate. I released the line that hauls the sail and mast into position, gathered up what I could find floating around me and stuffed it into the cockpit and then turned the kayak back over. Climbing in from port side I noticed the sail hanging lazily in the water on the starboard side. A wave came, the sail grabbed the water and out I went on the starboard side again. Bugger. A negotiated my way back to the other side and tried again. This time when I tipped out it was with both feet in the air so it would have looked quite comical.

My next strategy was to get onto the kayak but wait before trying to put my legs in. Timing with the waves was crucial but the strategy worked and there I was, ready to paddle again, albeit with a kayak full of water. My sponge was gone but I manoeuvred around enough to pick up my bottles and a container with trail mix in it. The trail mix container was a good bailer and it didn’t take long to get the water level low enough to set off.

The GPS was still working fine and it registered 10.6mph (17km/hr) as I careened down a wave. With the paddle in my hand there was no chance of tipping over. About a kilometre from shore I dropped the sail because I could not hold the kayak with the rudder. Even with the sail down it was a wild and twisting ride as I approached the sand bar where I thought Bud’s house might be. My phone started vibrating then so I pulled the water proof pouch out from under my life jacket. It was full of water so I guessed that was just its death throes of a dying phone.

Coming through the opening in the sand I wasn’t quite sure where I was, so turned back out after getting about halfway through the gap and headed west, coming in the next opening through the grassed flats. Although it still didn’t look right I thought I saw Julianne walking on the beach but there was a dog with her so I wasn’t sure. Anyway I headed that way and another figure materialised. It turned out to be Bud and his dog Charlie walking with Julianne.

I pulled the kayak onto the sand, then up behind the bushes and left it there heading for a shower and a beer. The phone pouch was now empty so the water had drained from it. Bit disappointing really, I would have expected better. Anyway I was safe, Bud’s place was magnificent and a new phone could wait for another day.

Bud and Cathy provided oysters from their own colony and then barbequed a chicken for dinner. You will have to wait for the book to see how you do oysters here but it is pretty easy and works a treat. We met their friends Karen and Bill, over a beer of course, and swapped stories. Bud is an environmental journalist and has been focussing on climate change for about ten years or so.

I don’t know how people keep going here with their climate change message. There is so much ignorance. A radio show host was getting stuck into a climate educator and he kept repeating that it was a natural phenomenon occurring throughout the solar system. He repeated many times that Pluto, Jupiter and Mars were having the same effects. Believing in fairies at the bottom of the garden seems more logical to me than that rubbish.

I was in 1m of water when I took this

Lots of healthy sand but you can’t see this from a kayak until about 2km away

Trees like this can bee seen from 10km away

This is so different from Australia. The mud is bound together by the roots of the plants. It is hard but not as hard as coffee rock

Ospreys will take advantage of post in the water

Happy families. The bird life gets better and better.

Bud and Charlie who will chase a ball all day

The view from the guest house

 

I WATCH THE SQUIRRELS IN THE TREE

THEY SWING ABOUT WITH GLEE

THEY SWING AND JUMP FROM BRANCH TO BRANCH

THEY ARE AMERICAN AS A TEXAS RANCH

THEY ARE NIMBLE IN THE EXTREME

THE CUTEST ANIMAL I’VE EVER SEEN

I WATCH THEM IN THE MORNING GLOW

AND AT LAST LIGHT, WHEN THEY GO

I LISTEN TO THEIR CHATTER

ABOUT NUTS AND OTHER MATTER

PEANUTS ON THE GROUND I SCATTER

THEY RACE IN,THEIR FEET A’PATTER

THEY SIT IN FRONT OF ME, CHEEKS FULL

RACE OFF TO STORE AWAY

TO HAVE ON A COLD RAINY DAY

THESE ANIMALS ARE REALLY COOL

KLAAS

The wind was from the south but blew at something less than kayak speed, 7km/hr, and the tide was running down the bay against me when I set out from Fort Monroe at Hampton. This is where the slaves used to escape to when fleeing the south. None of that mattered though, it was a magnificent, warm morning.

Because it was Memorial Day weekend there were people everywhere along the beach. The tide was nearly out and the beach is fairly flat so people could stand in the water a about 20m off the beach. One bloke was swimming south. I asked him how far he swam because he had a pretty good stroke. About 3ks every day he replied. I congratulated him on his metrics and then I was past. A fleeting moment like two ships passing.

When the houses ran out the sea bed started to have sea grass and was very clear. While paddling about 50m from the shore and enjoying gliding along at 8km/hr with the breeze that had picked up to about 8 knots I noticed a runabout 200m further out. Two of the blokes were standing in chest deep water and had some sort of sticks so I think they may have been after oysters which are on the sand rather than stuck on rocks.

The wind turned north west, then north east, back to the south then north again. I’m glad I wasn’t dependent on a sail. About 1.00pm though, it came in from the south east at 18-20 knots and stayed there.

There is an inlet just south of York River and it seemed like every power boat in the area was out and about. It was great to see so many people enjoying the water. Of course there were a few clowns yahooing around but you get that anywhere. The boats at York River were overwhelmingly sailing boats which was a lot nicer.

Because my map wasn’t very detailed and because there were a lot of boats out I asked directions about the next landmarks. Both sources were very helpful but gave me incorrect information. It didn’t really matter though. The York River was unmistakable and after crossing it I just had to slip around an island and up through the grassy bits. That took a lot of figuring out and luckily the information I got that side was more accurate. I was worried about missing Julianne but she got lost as well so I beat her by half an hour and had mostly dried off when she arrived.

A lone seagull guarding the beach club. Note deckchairs. Bar is in the background

Rock groin and timber wall beach protection

More than 30 rods with lines in the water

Long shore rock groins

Dunno whether they built over the beach or the land moved away later

Rock protection

Renewable energy

Remains of tree stumps shows shoreline retreating where no houses

Grass!

Clear water about 1m deep

Sea grass looks healthy

This clown passed less than 15m in front of me going full bore with a breaking wake. I had to wait till he passed to be able to take the shot.

See the bend in the rod. With the sail up and 20knots of wind I couldn’t stick around to see what she caught

Everyone had their toys out

Waiting at the pickup point

 

Set off from the well to do suburb, Princess Anne, of Virginia Beach. The wind was from the north but not too bad and negligible in the swamp and trees. It was a very quick journey through the head of the water system to the mouth, all done in a few hours.

The channel was a lot wider downstream of the Princess Anne Rd bridge

What a fantastic waterway right in the suburbs

There were about ten houses in this area. One bloke in his back yard had a chat and he said there was another blockage up ahead but he didn’t have any dynamite to clear it.

Halfway through. This was very difficult.

It is another world down here, much more fun than in the traffic

Not impressed

Structured canal

Very noisy goose

Into the top of the bay and first channel marker

Widening out

Some nice homes. Note the bank for discussion lower down

Oysters. They are OK but nothing like the taste of a Sydney Rock Oyster

There’s the bridge at the mouth

Before starting out from the boat ramp we met with Carol Brighton who runs a site called http://www.tidewatercurrent.com/   Carol took us to the Chesapeake Bay Foundation centre just near the boat ramp.   It is a non-profit organization devoted to the restoration and protection of the Chesapeake Bay. It was founded in 1967 and has headquarters offices in Annapolis, Maryland. http://www.cbf.org/

Setting out from the boat ramp out of the wind but with a u-turn ahead

Heading into Chesapeake Bay after the bridge was a wee bit rough

This is the bridge that goes right across the mouth of Chesapeake Bay with a tunnel in the middle

One way of building and controlling the shoreline

But I prefer this method next door with dunes and sand fences

These groins, parallel with the beach and just out from low tide seem to work too.

Crossing over to Hampton. To the left is the bridge and then there is a tunnel section from the island

These pass over the tunnel. I was keen to get across before him.

Klaas is impressed with the ranger’s weaponry. Two guns is a bit different to what we are used to at home.

The ladies were impressed

 

 

 

After moving camp to the North West River Park we set off to explore and came across a bloke in a bird suit. His name is Jim and he didn’t have pockets for a business card, being a bird and all. Another chap had a video camera and they were filming the Chesapeake waterways as a bit of a promotion. I did a piece to camera with him which was fine but my comment about how low the area is and what sea level rise will do has to be edited out because the Republicans don’t like that.

We also met John from the Coast Guard Auxiliary who trains people in recreational boating safey. He gave us some literature and a couple of whistles. I now know what 1, 2 and 3 blasts mean.

Next day we set off for a serious attack on mileage. Forgot to put the camera in! Bugger. Set off from swamp with zero wind but picked up a smidgeon back on the canal. Put the sail up but mostly it just sat there although the wind was from behind. The occasional gust made a difference and I cleared the canal two hours later.

A couple of real boats, a Beneteau around 40 ft and another I didn’t recognise went past. The second one put a headsail up just after the canal so I was able to see him for more than an hour. After three hours I hit the straight on the Alligator River that goes all the way to the bridge at the mouth. The wind was still fickle but useful. If I paddled hard I went faster than the wind and I couldn’t see much sense in that so ticked along at just under 4knots and kept the sail full.

The intracoastal markers run a big zig zag but kayaks don’t draw much so I straight lined down the middle. The river is about 6km wide. We would call it a bay. Each side are swamps with alligators, bears and snakes so the middle seemed just fine.

It took another two hours until I saw a truck driving across the water a very long way ahead. The bridge had finally materialised. The wind built up to 8-12knots with the occasional white cap and a few waves. When I got a wave the sale lost all pressure and back luffed. The GPS was at 8mph so that gave me the wind speed. Eventually it built to 12-15 knots with waves to catch and lots of white caps. When I got a good runner I would surge along at 7-8 knots and average about five so the miles rolled by quickly. After 6 ½ hours I pulled in just after the bridge. The Alligator River was done and the trip log was 48.8km for the day.

Next morning was favourable winds to cross to the other side and then run up to Powell Point. On the water I found that I could see the Powell Point area after about an hour but had agreed to meet Julianne at the bottom of the peninsula which was the closest land. Better to be safe than sorry but it did add a couple of hours.

The wind was from the south west at 15-18 knots but gradually died and then picked up again from the north west at about 8knots which was just OK because that is where I was headed. It was all pretty uneventful but I was surprised by the lack of people about given the fabulous weather and warm water. One bloke I did see was doing something to his jetty. He was standing in the water in front of it. The water was below his waist. After that I checked water depths and almost everywhere I was paddling in water that I could stand up in. You can walk out to all the bird blinds that I saw.

From wide open waters I gradually went up the bay to where I could see both sides, through the next intracoastal canal, out into an area with islands and then right up into the top of Currituck Sound and into the Coastal Paddling Trail. With the wind from the north the close waters were very welcome.

Heading back through the swamp to the canal

Lots of dead trees in some areas. Rising water levels?

Alligators are a protected species

It looked more daunting than it was. I could almost see the end of the peninsula

Quite a few of these. Nets? Traps?

Like the ones we see in Ballina

Commercial crab boat

Look closely, you can see the eye in the dark patch and the nose on the left. It scuttled into the hole in the rocks behind it

Beautiful day and no people here

Optimistic but the sail lasted two minutes

Note nest and distance shore has moved

Some of the few birds I saw. Lots of eagles but shags, seagulls etc are almost non-existent.

Lots of these. She was warning me off

Because it is so shallow the protection walls seem to work. I am in half a metre of water with a dead tree trunk. If this guy’s neighbours don’t do something he will eventually be on an island even if the water doesn’t rise

Finally, someone enjoying the water. 

Some people go to a lot of trouble for not a lot to see.

The kayak touched bottom here

Lots of sea grass

These guys passed me heading up the river and then vanished

Spoke to one bloke while the others pretended I didn’t exist. Gave them the benefit of the doubt and assumed they were on the run from the law. Advice was crabs are more plentiful up in the top of the bay. They run 8 months of the year, winter months there are none, each crab pot yields about a dozen crabs every day

Found the coast guard around the bend putting a pole in

Heading into a short connecting canal

If you go within 10m of the bank you run into these old tree stumps

In the canal. First time there was significant current and it was the wrong way!

Can someone please tell me why I think this is fun. This was one of six thunder showers.

The wheels of the vehicle are about 30cm above water level

After a screaming broad reach across the front of a storm

The banks are closing in again

Now into the river

Spotted these up a side channel. The bottoms have been ripped off.

Then I saw this. Can’t help stupidity I guess.

Into the swamp and the route is not always clear

Still quite wide

And then this on an advertised paddling trail

And then another one. The average person simply could not get through. It is very tough work and nowhere to get out

Recently chopped down

Princess Anne, Julianne just behind the bridge, with a beer, temperature 33 deg C

This post has been a long time coming. I have been buggered at the end of each day. Everything hurt, even my heels where they touch the bottom of the kayak and I change position regularly. Hopefully it is a passing phase. 

 

Klaas OBSERVATIONS. Why is it that in America almost no one has a veranda. I have now seen well over a hundred thousand homes in six states and a house with verandas is an exception. No BBQ areas either. My conclusion is that the vast majority of Americans live totally indoors in an air conditioned environment. Air conditioned. cars, shops ,offices and homes.. In the caravan parks where we have been staying ,some with two hundred sites, you see no one outside although each site has a pick nick table. It is surreal and frightening to see all these huge RV’s parked and nobody around. What do they do all day inside and why do they camp. Our present site is in a national park and it is beautiful . We live outside, eat outside and light a fire every night and sit around and swap stories. We watch the squirrels, I feed them and they are becoming quite cheeky but they are ever so cute. We have been kayaking on the lake and river, trying to see bears and other wild life, to no avail so far. The nearest I came to a black bear was in a rangers office where their was a stuffed one. Klaas  

 

It was overcast and cool with good paddling temperature, but the wind was from the north at 12-15 knots and the route from Woodstock Point up the Pungo River was north for 4km then ENE. The friends Julianne had made were there to see us off and had read the previous day’s blog. Ella didn’t know what a hide was but said what I saw was a duck blind or bird blind. Dunno whether you sit in there and watch birds or shoot ‘em. Can’t see that either would be very rewarding. Pelicans and shags are few and far between and there is the odd duck and pair of geese as well as an occasional eagle. I’m not sure why it is, but birdlife is a fraction of that in Australia, maybe 5% at a guess, maybe less.

Ella also said that the mine that I photographed is for Phosphate. It is the Aurora mine which is the largest integrated phosphate mining and chemical plant in the world. As I put into the water Billie commented that when she started going to the area in the late 1960s the water was much cleaner. That is the same sort of story I have heard everywhere in my travels over the last ten years.

The 4km bounced along underneath me at a good rate and turning the corner I headed east and pulled the sail up. Within a minute it started to luff and within five minutes it was hopeless, the wind was from the north east. Not to worry I thought as I paddled directly into it in the hope of putting the sail up and changing angle at the far side. This was a good plan except the wind switched to ENE, exactly the line of the canal, a couple of hours ahead.

After three hours I entered the canal by following the line of the boats using the intra-coastal route. I did see a few sailing boats but overwhelmingly the procession was of stink boats. In the canal the wake from a decent sized stink boat dwarfs that of the barges on the Mississippi. Most skippers slowed right down but the odd one didn’t really care about a kayaker. This suited me if it was going in the same direction because I could get a bit of a run from the waves.

After seven hours I reached the bridge where the 94 crosses. The arrangement with Julianne was that I would not, under any circumstances, go past the bridge. The radios were not working, there was no phone reception, I was 1½ hours late due to the headwinds and there were swamps on both banks. While I tried to figure out what to do the big yellow sign on the Ford Explorer crossed from left to right far above me. Julianne was tooting the horn. She crossed over and luckily I just spotted the top of the sign coming back so I headed for the north bank up through the swamp hoping to find solid ground. After all, roads don’t float so there had to be ground somewhere. I kept trying the radio with no response and in the end I tried shouting. She returned the shout, I found a path through the reeds and there she was, a very welcome site for a tired and soaking wet kayaker.

We loaded up and headed back to the van ready to move the next day. Daily tally was 39km which I reckon is acceptable against the wind all day. Two non-paddling days days now.

When the cyclone chased me off the water two days ago we headed across to the outer banks. The morning was wet and windy when we headed east but by the time we got there it was drying out and although the winds were still strong they started to abate.

The outer banks south of Manteo is a strip of land and islands 15-30km off the coast. They are trying to migrate towards the mainland and in the main are just above high tide. The roads get cut periodically with very high tides. The US Army Corps of Engineers has done a lot of work maintaining them and dredging the channel across to Ocracoke Island but most engineers accept that one day they will have to be abandoned in their present form. In fact about 18 months ago the state abandoned the direct ferry route which took about 40 minutes and it now takes an hour and a quarter to get down to Ocracoke Island from the bottom of the long peninsula.

Amidst this, in a state that once prided itself in education and democratic ideals, the politicians have outlawed the use of the words Climate Change and Sea Level Rise. After a Coastal Resources Commission report in 2000 allowing for up to 1m sea level rise in 2100, certain science denying politicians have now managed to have that reduced drastically with predictions only 20 years ahead. The General Assembly in 2012 passed a law declaring that rates of sea level rise “shall not include scenarios of accelerated rates”. Although this was great for local comedians, it is pretty frightening stuff, akin to Book Burning Bernardi and his science denying mates like our prime minister. We won’t be burning witches at the stake but these people are doing the modern equivalent. If you are not scared of Tony Abbot and his thugs you should be.

Klaas         Hi all. Had a marvelous day yesterday exploring the Outer Banks in North Carolina. The waterways are huge and we explored multiple islands and drove along causeways to Hatteras, the playboys paradise, chesapeake bay, the Pemberton Sound where the Kennedies, the Venderbilts and Duponds have their summer enclaves and the rich and hopefuls brush shoulders with the proletariat. We went on several ferries and it was wonderfull to be on salt water again. Steve felt it too. He did not have his heart into bicycling and is now back in his element. I ate the best fish and chips ever, catfish done in beer-batter, it was delicious and the chips were superb,brown and crisp. Yummy. Looking forward to the next route along the coast to New York and than we are booked to Southampton on the 14th of July. Have fun. Klaas.

Out of the wind for lunch

This is heading for the Intracoastal Canal

This one too

I quite liked this one

Entering the canal

Remains of the old bridge with the new one on the right

There are a few  houses and jetties

Another food break

A few of these but I have no idea what they are

You travel as far as the eye can see over and over and all straight

Have a good look at the was behind this

If these are on both sides the canal is definitely getting wider and it stands to reason given the waves from the boats

Finally, the 94 bridge

Land ahead!

Welcome to the outer banks

This is serious air. 15m high.

Waiting for the ferryAdd Media, looking back towards the Atlantic seaboard. These overlook the beach

Lots of wind blown shrubs in the water

Pretty narrow here

This is the bow of the ferry. The buoy on the left is the channel marker and the post with the triangle on the top is the right channel marker. The new channel is 10ft deep and the ferries draw 5 ft.