The early morning fisherfolk ignored us as they waded out to catch the dawn’s rays. As did NatureCalls, still sound asleep.
SandyBottom headed on a more direct route across Mexico Bay—as I normally do—but this year I traded that with hugging the coast line with KneadingWater, body watching Spring Break and retiree beach goers. It had its moments. As KW coined the phrase, “she’s not my daughter.”
Distracted by a woman waving a towel madly on the beach, KW headed ashore to discover RiverJohn’s wife, hoping to hold us up as RJ scrambled to launch his Kruger and paddle a few miles with us. An entry in only this year’s UltraMarathon (just to CP1), to take more advantage of their Florida timeshare from the vagaries of a Canadian winter, he soon caught up with me, chatting away—always good to spend any time with John.
Once more battling against a strong tidal current, we stopped at the south side of
Photo: Tyro and PaddleCarver
A couple of times we passed and were passed by tandem Tyro and PaddleCarver, who decided to stop at dusk a few miles short of Big Marco Pass, to camp on Keywadin Island. As night fell, a weary SB was also keen to stop for the night at Sea Oat Island, but with a ripping tide to whip us through
Photo: KneadingWater in calm repose
Photo: The joys of Florida sunsets
Photo: With SandyBottom under the old Goodland Bridge