March and spring is here

New discoveries in the bayou. Mom and I went all the way up to the causeway through the third bayou from the bay. Saw 4 gators along the way and named 2: Ferdinand and Sparky. Sparky lay on the bank with us not 12 feet from him (what were we thinking?) but eventually slid into the water. The red-winged blackbirds are singing, the egrets and herons are flying and fishing, and the fish are jumping. Most of the bayou still looks brown but the green grass is pushing up through the brown grass from last year. The weather is nice and it feels like another kayak season!

December paddle

This paddle was a couple of weeks ago on Dec 18th. Mom and I went up north of the bay, up behind some of the houses on the north bayou. She is in Beriniki, the Pamlico 145T. I'm in the Millenium 160. She took a photo of me on this trip and I've added it to my profile. We saw this heron along the way. I have a new camera with much more zoom power, but not sure when I'll get the nerve to take it out on the water.


I edited these photos with Microsoft Digital Image 2006. Downloaded a trial copy, but I think I will end up buying it as I do like it quite a bit. The reviews on photo imaging software are deceiving, because I think to the average user, ease of use far outweighs the ultra-technical capabilities available.

Late fall stroll on the water

Even on a mild November day there is plenty to see. The best thing about today was I was in no hurry, I had no plan, I had no objective other than to enjoy some kayak time. My GPS shut off due to low batteries, but I went the same basic track out towards the gulf that I have done many times. The tide was very low. I bet there have been times when the whole bay emptied out completely. It was only a foot and a half to two feet deep all the way across. The herons and egrets were prevalant as usual but there were quite a few more ducks. Some of them seemed very small. I noticed how they start flying and have to get a running start with their feet slapping the water. The cormorants do this too, especially if they haven't had time to dry out their wings after swimming.

A group of 3 little raccoons was wandering around in the mud digging up snacks...

I'm a little out of paddling shape, but I really didn't have trouble with the trip all the way to the gulf and back. I passed about a dozen boats with people out fishing. Over by the boat dock, the first house on that street was in the process of being razed from hurricane damage. It still seems very quiet on the north side of the bay, where all the houses are gone and no one is there on the empty lots. One thing to be aware of now, the water is colder, and wouldn't be any fun to capsize. I suppose if I went where the water is very cold, I would need to be more prepared!

Recommended book: Across the Savage Sea by Maud Fontenoy.

Fort Bayou

Here's a trip I've been meaning to do for a while and finally got the chance. Did it today while the boat traffic is still almost nil and the weather is great. Not too exciting of a trip, but a good one to do. The tide helped me out but it was 9.3 miles. The best thing about this trip: now when I drive over the bridge and look down at the water and think, "I'd really rather be there than on my way to work," at least I can think of when I was out there in that very spot!

The tidal current was noticeable coming out of Bayou Talla. I realized that so far my kayaking is mostly focused on the world above, with the water as simply a transportation medium. The interaction with the water, while it varies in it's character depending on the location, is fairly predictable. I suppose that with whitewater kayaking the water in itself is an interaction, requiring attention and providing an adventure in addition to the above-the-surface world. So, then... does this double the experience... or split it in half?

One bit of excitement on this trip -- a mullet took a big jump towards me and almost landed in my lap. I was wondering how long it would be before one took a flying leap right at me. Man those things can jump. Wheee!

Water welcome

Here is a picture from this morning that shows how the water just came and took the houses away. Pilings, slabs, and shells of houses are all that remain along the water's edge.

On a rare day off today I had a chance to enjoy the water for a nice route around the bay and bayou. The temperature is so nice now. It's not crisp or cool yet, but the heat of summer seems to be gone. The trees are confused; they lost all their leaves during the hurricane and have grown new spring-like green leaves, yet others are brown and burnt looking still. The water seemed soft. That was my first thought. When the kayak glides through the water so easily and the paddle feels like it's pulling you through a cloud, it feels soft and inviting.

I went first up into the north side and saw some more of the houses that are gone and destroyed. Then across the bay and down the bayou. One boat was out in the bay and I believe it was the crab-pot man putting his crab-pots out.

The water was nice and I did not see debris except for over by the boat ramp. There were LOTS of fish and birds -- caught a fish jump on camera! OK, a fish splash.

The bayou in the middle is the nicest part - very natural and secluded. I'm sure the gators love this area but I have not seen any since the storm. There was a picture in the Mississippi Power newsletter of power crews working along the causeway. "A sheriff's deputy watches for alligators in Graveline Bay as crew members prepare to raise a Singing River EPA line flattened by Katrina." Guess they know how much the gators love this area. I wonder if the gators survived the storm?


Herons, egrets, rails... many kinds and many birds. I know the snowy ergets and the American egrets now. Snowy egrets have black beaks and yellow feet. American egrets have orange/yellow beaks and black feet. What a nice arrangement. Funny what an ugly voice they have, as pretty as they are to look at. Croak, croak, crooooooaaak.

I'll go out again this weekend, to look around with Mom and see that the bayou part of home has not changed and is taking care of itself.

Deer Island

Finally, a good pleasant return to the water. What a strange environment! I can imagine what it was like a few hundred years ago, before the coastline was built up, before the bridges, before the boat traffic. In a way we've been taken back to those times. Things are somewhat back to normal in the natural world -- the trees are regrowing, the crabs and fish and birds are doing all their normal things, the water is fine. I thought we would see all kinds of debris on Deer Island. There was some debris in the middle of the island in the swamp grass but not too much along the beaches. The east end restoration held up well. Salt water burned the pine trees to a crispy brown. They're just starting to show a few green needles.

Travelling up the tidal creek in the middle of the island took us to the beach connecting to the south side. The black biting flies were vicious! Again, not nearly as much debis as I expected. I suppose most of it just overwashed the island.

The trip was enjoyable; 4 of us went across, told storm stories, relayed information, discussed rebuilding issues along the coast. One kayaker is interested in forming a paddling club for weekend trips. I'd like to do that to discover new places, but most of the time I think I enjoy more exertion, more of an aerobic experience comapred to the average touring kayaker.

The pelicans seemed happy to be ruling the water with less encroachment from people. They were flying, swooping, preening, diving for fish. I thought this guy was aiming to poop on us, but he didn't.

Upon return to the mainland we went into the harbor, viewed all the boats that had been left up on land or on the houses. One house had 60 boats in the yard after the storm, but most of those have been cleared out. Final note on return was a reporter from a local newspaper doing a story on the effects of the storm on the ecotourism industry that has been growing in this area in recent years. As our kayak guide told her, the infrastructure of the ecotourism industry rebuilds itself.... so we're in good shape.

Had to share this also -- a picture taken from the dock this morning at my favorite kayak spot.

First post-Katrina venture

4 weeks later, I finally got the kayak in the water again. The bay had 1-3 foot waves today and was too rough to go anywhere, but I went to the end of the dock and back. The water scared me. It may have been that I didn't have a chance to get comfortable in the boat again. Might have been that the wind (related to the Hurricane Rita weather system) was kicking the waves up intermittently and I couldn't tell how bad it was going to get. At the end of the dock there were about 20 pelicans resting. It had been so long since people had been out there, they didn't know what to make of it. I got out to where they were and they finally flew up, hovered, made a circle, and came back as I went a little farther out from the dock. I made a circle and got sideways to the waves... tricky, but maneuverable, then took off back towards the launch area as fast as I could, adrenaline pumping, riding the waves inand trying to stay upright. The waves tried to knock me over but my new paddles kept me steady. But actually, I think the real reason the water is scary is that when you see all around you what it can do, when the houses are wiped clean off the slabs and everything that was out there is scattered for a quarter mile or more, it doesn't seem so friendly anymore. I'm looking forward to the next day when it's calm, when it reminds me of times in the past instead of reminding me of Katrina.

I have all the essential gear, thanks to a relief mission from Mom and great salvage work by Dale. I'll have to adjust my methods somewhat since there is no longer a place to store the kayak out there. We got a trailer which works pretty well for transporting the kayak. Guess it will have to come back and forth from home. It does give me some peace of mind to know that the ability is still there. I'll feel better once I can explore the water again, though that will be scary too, no doubt, there's no telling what I'll find out there. If I can see the fish and birds and gators, looking like nothing happened, that will be a good sign of life back to normal in this Mississippi home, at least in one way.