You ever feel like you’re the luckiest person in the world?
Two weeks ago my wife, Djuna, and I decided to celebrate two years of being married by paddling for a couple of days at our favorite local tidal race. We caught the tail end of a big ebb to get to “the spot”, took a break to eat some snacks and see how things would shape up as the flood began. The signs were good–a small surge from the Straits and a moderate wind from the west predicted to build in the afternoon. I exchanged looks with Djuna saying, “It’s gonna be good, darlin'” hoping I wasn’t jinxing us, but confident that it would, in fact, be sweet.
Sure enough, an hour into the flood and already there were surfable waves, and we had the place all to ourselves. Having so much fun we opted out of landing for lunch, just snacking in the eddy behind a large rock. Suddenly, things jumped up another notch as the combination of current speed, depth over the ledge, and the surge all synched up into beautiful 4-5 foot walls of water. We ended up paddling for 4 hours straight, and left with the race still going off, feeling foolish about expending energy early on. No matter, for we were going to return the next day to an even stronger flood, and similar weather conditions.
We caught the flood back to our starting point searching for the whitest, roughest water we could find. We saw a large gnarly whirlpool zone and I suggested we head for it, as I was trying to get some good video. I dropped into an intimidating bowl about 20 feet across and maybe 3 feet deep–no sucking vortex but kind of scary, I looked back to Djuna, separated now by a massive upwelling, in time to see her descend into the white mass, flip and then successfully roll up laughing. Things calmed down after that and we enjoyed the conveyer belt back to our put-in, marvelling at how lucky we both felt to be able to enjoy these dynamic places together, and feel well within our comfort levels.That evening we spent with some good friends on Lopez, Colin and Heidi, who graciously let us camp in their garden, and rested up for another day.
Day two was even better than the first, and we were spontaneously joined by two other paddlers, Warren Willimson, and a guy named John, who is a competetive racer, and had the skills and strength to be out there in a surf ski, always staying just upstream of the white stuff. I think he ended up being a little jealous of us in our shorter sea kayaks, and will soon be buying a Capella!
I slowly backed away and the little fellow moved on to a nearby lobster buoy. We had an amazing couple of weeks of coaching in both Maine and Rhode Island with every possible environment, cold temps, fog, rain, swell, surf and couple of blue bird days now and then to dry things out.
