“Red and green, go between…but only if you’re crossing a channel you dope,” goes the ye olde kayakers’ saying. Big hugs to all y’all. And best wishes for a safe and happy New Year! 🙂 🙂
Kayaking
For some reason, people assume we’ve hung up our paddles by now. Or trade them for skis (not gonna happen!). In fact, winter is the most magical time to paddle—as gal pal and fellow blogger, Julie, aka Kayak Cowgirl, demonstrates here: Hudson River, near Spuyten Duyvil. (Click for video)
This week’s photo challenge is new horizons. Perhaps wintertime kayaking belongs on yours? 🙂 🙂
Home, chaotic home. 10.15.16 Kayak-camping on Shea Island (just us geeks) after paddling from home, slightly-more-organized home, 20NM away. A late start and high winds made the slogging tough—and our sleeping bags that much cozier.
There’s order in the universe. Did you know that you can tell the air temperature just by listening? All you need are crickets! They slow down in autumn (like the rest of us), but their chirps are spot on. Here’s how we knew the nighttime temperature outside our tent was 45°F:
To convert cricket chirps to degrees Fahrenheit Count number of chirps in 14 seconds then add 40 to get temperature. (Example: 30 chirps + 40 = 70° F)
To convert cricket chirps to degrees Celsius Count number of chirps in 25 seconds, divide by 3, then add 4 to get temperature. (Example: 48 chirps ÷ 3 + 4 = 20° C)
Alex makes tracks for the loo
Deer made tracks last night!
See more interpretations of this week’s photo challenge 🙂 🙂
Not just another “Kayak Night” at Horseshoe Harbor Yacht Club—special guest and good pal, Luke (aka kayakhipster), presents a show-and-tell about traditional paddling and its “downside,” rolling. The audience is transfixed. Including this guy (can you name him? Please tell us!):
While you’re down there, fetch me a bunker?
Birds’ eye view?
August 17 Paddling back to HHYC on a balmy Wednesday “Kayak Night,” we encountered huge schools of bunker—and August’s magnificent “Sturgeon” (almost-full) Moon. Native Americans gave distinctive names to each recurring full moon, and Algonquin tribes from New England to Lake Superior agree that sturgeon fishing is best right about now.
Some tribes call it the “Red Moon,” thanks to its reddish appearance through August’s sultry haze.
A final post re our paddling trip to Tangier Island, VA. So many photos, so much left to tell.  The title of this post is Tangier-speak for “I mean what I say.” Here, Tangierman (?) Sonny Forbes gets the last word in this ode to his home 🙂 🙂
To the Stranger Who Walks Our Shores
Step not lightly upon these shores nor cast lighthearted gazes upon our isle… take not a dim view of our dwellings nor laugh at our narrow roads…
Hilda Crockett’s Chesapeake House
…do not misunderstand our language nor make joke of our native tongue… do not mock our walk or look down upon our quaint ways…
…for upon these shores have walked men of God, made of fibre woven close for age…
…and inside these dwellings laughter and love have flowed to make mansions of our homes…
Everyone knows everyone here, so one invitation fits all
…our language is that of times past and ages still unknown and our native tongue speaks with truth, understanding and compassion…
Cellphone reception is practically nil here
…our walk is that of pride and labor—bent somewhat from our toil but never from shame…
…our quaint ways may be misunderstood as slow but time is abundant here and we wish it not away…
…and fear not our streets, as narrow they are, for they are roads of welcome to strangers, highways to let all visitors come into our lives, and exit for those who misunderstand us, or mistrust us or wish not our love…
—Sonny Forbes
Best wishes to our hosts on Tangier Island! Read our other posts about this very special destination here and here. And “make a hurry” to plan your own paddling trip! 🙂 🙂
More on our trip to Tangier Island, Virginia, 6/17-19. In our previous post, we described Tangier as shrinking. Well, the better word is “sinking.” In an odd we-were-just-there coincidence, the New York Times on 7/10/16 published a fascinating article about Tangier’s predicament, which according to David Schulte, marine biologist with the US Army Corps of Engineers, is this: The island may have only 50 years left, and its residents are likely to become some of the first climate-change refugees in the United States.
Tossing our boats over the wall of the town dock…
…much to the amusement of the local watermen
Tangier has lost two thirds of its landmass since 1850. And it’s not alone: Over the past four centuries, more than 500 islands have disappeared from the [Chesapeake] bay, about 40 of them once inhabited. Most of Tangier Island, which consists of several long sandy ridges connected by footbridges and amounts to a little over a square mile, is approximately four or five feet above sea level.
Yet, there remains this beautiful fact: The low elevations and the quiet, bird-filled wetlands and tidal creeks produce a sense of living with the water, rather than beside it. (Click for video.)
Paddling what’s left of the Tangier region called “Uppards”
Alex in the “zipper,” recently a dry sandy hook
We’ve long had a “gnawing” (hunger) to take a “scud” (vacation) to tiny, shrinking Tangier Island, Virginia, smack in the middle of Chesapeake Bay. Inhabited by hardworking watermen since 1686, Tangier has remained fairly isolated—so much so that its 450 residents speak in a way that Queen Elizabeth I might recognize. (Click for video):
We just had to hear it for ourselves. (And taste the best Chesapeake crab cakes!) So when Rick Wiebush of Cross Currents Sea Kayaking posted the 6/17-6/19 trip, we were “happy as larks” (Tangier-speak for thrilled) to paddle along.
Alex boards the Crisfield, Maryland ferry to Tangier Island
In case you didn’t know, crabs are king
Alex ponders the ins and outs of crab pots
A fresh catch
Chesapeake crabs, next seen on your NYC dinner plate
Watching our step, we heaved our yaks up onto the top deck of the Crisfield ferry
The U.S. mail, en route to Tangier
Approaching Tangier by ferry
Town landing
Tangier Island post office
Tangier is accessible only by boat or plane. And once you’re here, it’s a golf cart, bike or your own two feet.
This makes us laugh—just like everyone who lives here!
A typical mode of transportation around here.
Alex watches the traffic go by on a wild Saturday night
Walking to our lodgings at Hilda Crockett’s, we couldn’t help but notice the graves in the yards of families’ homes. This isn’t unusual at all, to folks familiar with the Eastern Shore of Virginia (and other parts of the Chesapeake region). Long before there were public cemeteries, the dead were buried in family plots located on a patch of high ground somewhere on the farm, usually not far from, or in view, of the main house.  Tangier differs from the mainland only in being much smaller and having less land available—so this is just a “mini” version of a custom you’ll find around the South.
Stay tuned for more posts about Tangier Island. 🙂 🙂
“Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing—absolutely nothing—half so much worth doing as simply messing around in boats.” —Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows
Summer is finally here. And we’re messing around in all manner of floating craft…from Bea’s new Valley Avocet sea kayak to Jim’s handmade wherry…
… to Rick’s Rockpool Taran speedster to Jean’s new (and Andrew’s old) Epic V10 Sport surf ski…
The Long Island Sound is warm (70F) and swimmable and fully mess-around-able!
We learned a lot of new things over the course of our 10-day, 120-mile paddle. (If you’re just tuning in, we invite you to visit our previous Keys posts.) Today’s eureka:
#7: It’s possible to paddle in the shade.
The sun’s strong here. Luckily, mangrove forests are everywhere (but they’re tight quarters….just remember to take your paddle apart and maneuver with one half).
Short cut! Mangroves line more than 1,800 miles of shoreline within Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary.
The dense tangle of prop roots make the trees appear to be standing on stilts above the water. This tangle helps the trees handle the daily rise and fall of tides. Most mangroves get flooded at least twice per day.
The red mangrove produces a spear-shaped seed that is up to 10 inches long and will float until it implants into soil.
Seeking relief (ahem) on a black mangrove island
Or you can paddle in the shadows of the Long Key Viaduct (1907) and modern-day Long Key Bridge.
The Long Key Viaduct was part of Henry Flagler’s Overseas Railroad; today, it’s a bike and pedestrian path/fishing pier
Long Key Bridge was built to replace the Long Key Viaduct (1907), which still stands parallel to the bridge.
Sometimes you just have to make your own shade. (2G3K Gear Recommendation: the versatile UV Buff)…
Jean, is that you?
Hen at SPF 1,000
…Or you can simply take advantage of passing clouds.
Next up: Wildlife takes vacations too. 🙂
2 Geeks @ 3 Knots 