Leaky Kayaks

Our boats all started leaking recently. We tend to hit rocks kayaking Antietam Creek when the water is a bit low, which happens a lot in the summer. When the river gauge  downstream of Burnside Bridge reads less than 2.6 feet on  american whitewater.org then it is too low to run that section. So after 24 years, my Wilderness Rascal kayak started springing leaks. Jeff’s Pungo preceded mine with a big hole in it 4 years ago,  which he replaced with a smaller one, and then recently, it got a hole too. I finally patched the first boat with layers of fiberglass cloth and epoxy and it has started to shred after one year. The latest holes, I sealed with FiberFix Rigid Patch, and so far so good. Be careful to follow the directions exactly on that stuff. I peeled off the last bit of clear plastic before I was meant to and it took a long time to cure because of that.

Using leaky boats on small local creeks and the lazy Potomac is not that big of a deal, but when we decided to rent a house on the Chesapeake for a week, we got nervous. There are too many ways for a long paddle to go wrong with poor equipment.

We began searching  online for the Wilderness Systems boats that we like and finally found them at the Appomattox River Company down near Farmville, Virginia. We wanted ten foot long, fairly stable Class I and II (occasionally III) rated boats with good storage and comfortable seats. It was important that they track well in flat water, so they needed a keel, but we also did not want the keel to get all beat up dragging over rocks. We ordered a midnight blue Aspire 100 for me and a slightly larger Aurora colored  Aspire 105 for Jeff. They have a drop down skeg for deep, flat water and two inverted keel channels to glide over rocks and handle in shallow water. The two kayaks arrived via truck, in fine shape, 4 work days later,  all wrapped up in big sheets of cardboard, 6 mil plastic and packing  tape. I pulled off all the tape and used the cardboard as mulch in the blueberry patch. The electric meter reader laughed when he found me sitting in my boat on the grass as I adjusted the comfy seat and foot pegs. This boat is so much more comfortable than my old one. The foot pegs move easily along their track, the cushioned seat and backrest tilt and move up and down, and the seat drains.  I was down to baling twine on the old one and often had to sit in a puddle after a lap splash.

On to the Eastern Shore of Virginia!

My Honda Ridgeline truck has a four and a half foot bed when the tailgate is up, so we loaded the two kayaks on the roof racks. The cockpits are a little bigger on these boats and we had to face them out to sit on the kayak racks properly. We had our bikes on the hitch in the back. We loaded all our stuff for the week in the back seat and the under-bed trunk and headed out the road.

The noise! Something was humming like a pack of hunting dogs in hot pursuit. We pulled over and tried to find the source of the un- harmonic baying but all I could figure to do was tighten the straps and tie the ends in a different place. The pitch changed to a slightly higher tune. It was pretty bad. I turned on the radio to drown it out and finally got sort of used to it with the help of an Alleve. We had a 5 hour drive ahead of us with this.

House in Crystal Cove

After stopping at a farm market for some fresh sweet corn, cantaloupe, and ice cream cones, we arrived at our beach house.

It was a stroke of luck that Jeff found this house at the last minute out on Crystal Bay. The house was perched up on stilts and sat just a few feet from the high tide mark, facing Northwest over the water. The beach was sandy and the water shallow and warm, with gentle waves lapping.

We could see marshes way out there and some sort of structures just barely poking up. With my camera zoomed in they turned out to be duck blinds and a hunters shack. The neighborhood consisted of about seven houses, with one tiny house past ours and then just marsh, with egrets stalking the water. No people. It was perfect.

We walked through the house and decided to take the bedroom at the top with great water views on 3 sides.  As soon as our gear was inside, we carried the boats out to the beach and started paddling to the little marsh visible from the back of the house.

It was about 7:30 PM and the tide was still high enough but starting to ebb. It is never a good idea to enter shallow water without taking the tide into account, something we learned on the Wicomico River in Maryland a few years ago, when we had to fight a strong river current coupled with an outgoing tide, trying to get home before dark. Some mistakes do not ever let you forget.

We paddled around the marsh for about a half hour, watching egrets and crabs scuttle around, before returning to watch the mostly cloudy sunset from the deck.

Tobacco Island Marsh

The next morning, we waited for the low tide to start flowing back in, packed our boats with lunch and water and set off across the open water towards the far marshes of Tobbacco Island. It looked impossibly far but according to the GPS it was one mile and took us twenty minutes. It is just so flat. The water was shallow most of the way, rarely deeper than 2 feet, and we paddled past numerous crab pot buoys, which enabled us to feel as if we were actually getting somewhere. It is hard to tell in open water just how far anything is-at least for these landlubbers.

We paddled past duck blinds and could see a shack out in the grasses which we finally managed to find a shortcut to, a passage that would not exist at low tide. The water trail meandered around, bending back on itself constantly until I was totally turned around.

Jeff kept egging me on but there was still a time when I just wanted to head back and see familiar… anything.

Sometimes he underestimates how long trips can take and we have endured some tense moments wondering if we would make it back by dark. We paddled to various white sandy beaches, getting out to look around and stretch a little. He wanted to go out into the main bay but the waves were too high out there to consider it without spray skirts on our boats. Whew. Glad I talked him out of that.

We cruised through marsh for almost 8 and a half miles and saw lots of Cormorants, Eagles, Herons, Egrets, Ducks and Geese, along with what looked like a beaver lodge made of grasses, lots of crabs, and a few small fishing boats way off in the distance.

No people. We were tired and ready to get out of the boats and float ourselves in the 82 degree water of our perfect little beach when we got back. Then a hot outdoor shower and a cold drink. Ahh…

Village of Onancock

After an exhausting day on the water we drove into the little village of Onancock, about 5 miles away, for dinner. Mallards is a restaurant on the wharf where we were able to sit outside and watch the boats come in. I had a delicious crab cake and fresh green beans, while Jeff had blackened tuna. It was delicious. I had to bring most of my Blueberry Bread Pudding home though, as I was stuffed. Afterwards we walked around town, admiring the well kept old houses and the friendly folks strolling under the large trees. The sunset as we walked across a little bridge.

Onancock sits way up a protected creek and seems like a wonderful place to live, with a playhouse, a movie theatre and an artistic community.

Chessconessex Creek

The next day we paddled along the shore up to Chessconessex Creek and followed it all the way until the end, where a downed tree blocked the way.

There were some nice homes and farms, long docks and an oyster nursery (I think) along the creek. There were also some large birds, osprey maybe, with their young, up on nesting poles in the water, and Cormorants perched on old dock pilings.

We could not feel any current but the water was rough on the windy side so we tried to hug the leeward shore.

Our friends arrived with their boats just after sunset, driving just behind a storm that was moving North and East. It missed us.

Pompco Creek and Long Beach Island

For the next few days, the weather was supposed to be in the 90’s, sunny and dry.  Jeff had scary big plans for this next trip. With the good zoom on my camera, we could see a house way out there, and a long white beach, but they seemed too far to reach. I was feeling intimidated by how far away it looked.

Satellite photos showed the areas we were headed for and Jeff had it  mapped with the GPS. You would think that would make it easier to navigate through all the twists and turns but it does not. Sitting in a kayak low on the water, you cannot see over the grasses and it is easy to make wrong turns in the maze.

 

 

 

 

 

We kept getting into big open lake-like areas with no other way out. Then we’d be in skinny streams you could barely poke through that would open up to big water.

Another Hut Way Out in the Middle of the Marsh

It does not help that the marsh changes with every storm, so you can’t rely on a map or photo. Every now and then I would see one of the hunting shacks off in the distance, but we did not find our way there easily.  We were startled by sting rays a few times, suddenly leaping up beside us, and at one point, a boat capsized in deep water and it was tricky to bail out with no place to stand. Sometimes it was so shallow and muddy you could get stuck, and the pluff mud can really suck, but we saw lots of herons and ducks and egrets and the marsh was beautiful .

After many wandering turns we found the right route, which eventually brought us out north of  Chessonessex Creek and on the far side of open water. Two of us booked it across, riding the tide on the far side, and we beat the guys back by about 20 minutes. They came home and joined us, relaxing in the water, glad to be back.

We were all pretty exhausted after about 16 miles of paddling. The trip seemed better, now that it was over.

Parkers Marsh and Onancock Creek

The next day we headed South West into open water, skirting around Parkers Marsh, watching Bald Eagles perched atop snags onshore.  We were hoping to find a way through Parkers Marsh, but went all around it without finding an entrance.

We pulled into a beach for a break and hen started up the wide creek towards town, four miles away. Jeff and Carla wandered off exploring the marsh and left Tom and I waiting for them for over an hour, trying to keep our boats from being blown too far upstream. We could see no sign of them, no matter how hard we tried, and finally gave up and let the tide and wind push us up the creek to town. I was glad I had my phone so we could look up Google Maps and not make a turn up the wrong fork. The other two materialized not long after we had loaded our boats on the truck we had left at the dock and we all headed to the Wharf for cold drinks. It was another day I was glad we had gotten through.

When we got back to the house, we all dropped ourselves into the water and just floated around, relaxing. We thought we’d take the next day off and ride the  ferry to Tangier Island, since none of us had ever been. Unfortunately, the small boat was booked solid the rest of the week, so it turned into a day of games and reading instead. We watched a horseshoe crab vacuuming up down in the swim area and the guy tending his crab pots.

Wachapreague

A woman we spoke with in town told us we should go out to Wachapreague  for some good fresh seafood while we were here, so we made plans for that. We thought it might be close to the ocean, but there are barrier marshes and islands to navigate and no roads east of the village. A motor boat would have been the way to get out there but we were content enjoying a delicious dinner at the Island House Inn on the wharf.  The guys had fresh flounder and the gals has crab cakes. They served us warm sweet potato rolls as we waited and we shared Smith Island Cake and a Triple Chocolate concoction.

Back in Onancock

The next day, we walked around Onancock some more, admiring the flowers, and the giant Crepe Myrtle  and Magnolia trees. It is alarming to see how many huge Ash trees make up the shady canopy and I hope the Emerald Ash Borer never makes it this far. All of the Ash trees are dying at home and it is a huge loss.  We ate lunch at Mallards on the wharf again  with some excellent Mahi-Mahi tacos and Coleslaw made with Cilantro which was really yummy.

We also stopped in to the kayak guide shack next door and met Mary Burnham, an author of “Hiking Virginia”, and bought the brand new edition. She and her husband Bill, lead kayak trips all over the Chesapeake Bay, in the Florida Keys and Everglades, as well as Costa Rica. I would love to go to Costa Rica kayaking sometime.

Our friends have to leave later today and the weather is supposed to turn rainy for the whole next week. It has been gorgeous here so far so we do not mind some down time.

We thought we might go to the Onancock playhouse to see “Kiss me Kate”, but they were sold out. I did not even think a reservation would be needed in this small town. So, Saturday we stayed home all day and watched the rain, and more rain, and then wind. The house swayed a little in the strong gusts and when high tide came in it was higher than any we had seen, covering the entire beach and surrounding the breakwater. I pulled the boats up near the front steps and tied them in case they got to floating during the night.

It is so scary to think what a major storm might do to this nice house. They have already lost all of the yard and the water came very close to the house pylons in this little storm.  A hurricane will likely do some major damage. I loved spending a week here but I could not handle the stress of owning a house this close to the water. The bay is getting higher every year and you can see in satellite photos where roads and lots are now submerged. Shorelines will always changing and it is a risk you have to take if you want to have a house on the water.

Now for the long drive back home, this time with the boats and the bikes wedged into the bed of the truck to stay out of the wind. It was a much quieter ride home.

-Wendy Maddox, writing at Edgewisewoods, Gardens and Critters