Wrong Again

She's almost to Flamingo. A moment ago, she was where the road crosses the canal. Two possibilities: Set up a tent near the fish cleaning shelter, or rest a bit and head on across Florida Bay. It might depend on whether the store is still open for a microwave cheeseburger, but no more prognostications from me.

If she forges forward, she could best her previous Class 1 Female record. She also doesn't have a designated place to sleep in KL, but I'm sure people will provide. She's almost certain to get to Key Largo before Southwest and Super Shuttle can get me there.

Beach Cruising

KB and comrades are making good pace along the coast of Everglades National Park. The body of water you see at the lower right is Whitewater Bay, which they will cross to reach the canal that comes into Flamingo from the north. The question is, will they stop at Oyster Bay Chickee, which is inside the entrance or continue on? It's about 12 miles to Oyster Bay Chickee, so 3-4 hours at current pace. That's where SandyBottom planned to be tonight, but I can't check on her as her Spot has stopped transmitting. DancesWithSandyBottom is trying to get Santiago's track, as he thinks that's who she's with.

Other options for KB and friends include two chickees in the Joe River or going on to Flamingo. I'm skeptical that they'll push on to Flamingo. It's about 30 miles, and they've not shown much inclination toward late nights. As usual, we'll see.

CP2

KiwiBird and (presumably) Seiche stopped briefly at the ranger station, where we hope KB got the text message from FlieswithKiwiBird about campsite reservations. Then they proceeded on to CP2, where they spent about an hour. I'm hoping it was to visit the above. I need to get back there soon to replenish my stock of Havana Cafe hot sauce.

The reservation for tonight is for Rogers River Chickee, about 25 miles as the crow flies from Chokoloskee, and kayaks don't (or shouldn't) fly. They either didn't get the message or have decided it's too far for today, as they appear to be heading out to the Gulf of Mexico. Here's the track:

As was the case yesterday, time will tell.

Update: They did have lunch at Havana Cafe and are heading out to Mormon Key tonight to battle the raccoons. The plan is to stay outside until Whitewater Bay. KneadingWater is also with them.

Into the 'Glades

As expected, KB had dinner at Marker 8.5 in Goodland and proceeded on into the 10,000 Islands, where she set up camp about 20:30, apparently with Seiche. This morning they were on the water by 07:30 and headed for Everglades City.

What they didn't know--and we hope they will find out--is that SandyBottom already acquired permits for camping in Everglades National Park. In WaterTribe, this what is called a "filter." The ranger station in Everglades City (marina at upper left, above) is open from 08:00 until 16:30 daily, and there are no advance campsite reservations. So the wise challenger times his or her arrival during office hours.

Checkpoint 2 is actually at Chokoloskee (lower right, where the causeway hits civilization), and each competitor must stop there. Besides, if at all possible, one wishes to arrive there during open hours for the Havana Cafe, which serves excellent Cuban food—worthwhile fortification for the two days about to be spent on the Wilderness Waterway.

It's been an interesting day for following kayakers. Weather reports have not indicated much wind, although it's mostly been out of the SSE. I'm guessing that's why KB started hugging the shoreline around North Naples and then went inside with SandyBottom at Naples. They're now cutting over to McIlvane Bay presumably to follow the canal next to highway 951 down to Marco Pass.

Dinner at Goodlands is often a part of the ritual at Marco--particularly if KneadingWater and Seiche are nearby. Beyond that, I'm not guessing. I don't know the 10,000 Islands other than that Indian Key is at the entrance to the Everglades City channel. That's about 15 miles after dinner. Here's what that looks like:

All will be revealed in the morning.

Arriving Naples

Yesterday was a tough day slogging into the wind (so much for the forecast), so KB stopped relatively early. She was on the water about 06:15 this morning and is currently approaching Naples.

KB, SandyBottom, KneadingWater and Seiche have been near each other for the past 24+ hours, appearing to paddle together sometimes and then separate slightly at others. Although all tend to get to the same place about the same time, each has a different pace depending on the conditions.

By now SewSew probably has already finished, as he was at CP3 midday yesterday, but I have had no confirmation of that as yet. Race management requests that we not attempt to use the WaterTribe tracking map, so that race personnel might be able to figure out where people are.

Charlotte Harbor

Kristen and Dawn were on the water by about 06:45 this morning and are now most of the way across Charlotte Harbor. They're heading for the Matlatcha side of Pine Island, which is the most common route for paddlers. Their speed has picked up a little in the last half hour or so, which may be the sun producing some wind.

Forecasts are for another relatively calm morning but no shift to north winds in the afternoon. In one way that's good news, since it will keep the seas down on the exposed passage south of Fort Myers to Marco Island. The paddlers, of course, always hope for favorable wind but take whatever the wind's whim offers.

Kristen called home from CP1 last night and reported a great day on the water. She saw two porpoise and a sea turtle, had favorable afternoon winds and made good progress. She was off the water last night by about 22:30, which should have given her ample time to get her necessary five hours of shuteye.

Day One, Later Afternoon

KiwiBird did come inside at Venice Inlet. The track above is only a couple of minutes old, so she's right next to Venice Municipal Airport. I now have a track for SandyBottom as well, and the two of them have been together since going outside, if not longer.

This section of the intracoastal earns its nickname, "the ditch." It's a depression lined with rip rap. There's generally little breeze and not much to look at. Of the portions of the EC route I've seen, it's easily the least scenic. In roughly another mile, though, it opens back up, but I don't remember much about it, because it was dark when I got there.

KB and SB are making good time today. They're about 16 statute miles from CP1, with an ETA of around 21:00. I expect they'll only stop briefly to get water and check in. They'll camp a little farther along, before the Charlotte Harbor crossing.

Until morning....

Day One PM

Those of you attempting to follow Kristen (or any other competitor) on the WaterTribe mapper are no doubt aware that it's not working. Fortunately, I'm able to log into her Spot account and follow her there. The above screenshot is her position as of 12:32--just off the inlet to Sarasota.

I had a Spot Check/OK message from her at 10:11 this morning, which I thought rather odd. She wouldn't normally send one of those unless stopping for the night or making a major course change. When I checked her position, however, I realized she was going outside at the inlet between Anna Maria Island and Longboat Key. This (and the weather report) tell me that conditions are quite calm. Winds are less than 16 KPH and predominantly controlled by the diurnal onshore/offshore swing.

To the best of my recollection, she's never before gone outside at this point. I suspect the rationale is some mix of novelty and avoiding powerboat wakes in the intracoastal waterway. Most likely she'll come back in at Venice Inlet, but she might stay out until Stump Pass, which is shortly before checkpoint 1. There are other alternatives as well should conditions change.

She's making quite good progress thus far, and at the current pace she should arrive at CP1 around 20:00. I'll update later this afternoon before heading off to a wedding.

Once More unto the Beach

It's boat-loading time. Besides KiwiBird and SandyBottom boats, I think I recognize the CWolfe avatar on the green-decked Tiderace Pace in the foreground. The wooden boat just past SB might be FeralCat's Pygmy, making the next boat DeadCat's Eddyline, but I don't know; could be the wooden boat is StripBuilder's or even SaltyFrog's. That does look like Dolphin Gal's Nemo with the red deck three boats behind SB. Where are KneadingWater and Seiche?

Most participants try to pack everything the day before--except possibly food, which must be defended from racoons assiduously--which means having redundant camping gear or a vehicle to sleep in. A spare stove will likely be used collectively in the campsite to boil water in the morning for vital fluids and a spot of porridge.

All of the folks mentioned above are what are called "elders," which means they have finished a Challenge (it's just a coincidence that there's no spring chicken among them;). Elders can self-inspect, but every first-timer must undergo an inspection of required gear by an elder. About now, the local West Marine is likely doing a land-office business.

By the way, credit for both of today's photographs goes to KiwiBird, although the breakfast shot obviously involved a helper.

Breakfast at St. Pete Beach

Since the the beloved Cottage Inn closed a few years ago, IHOP has become the go-to place for registration-day  breakfast. I can't be certain of it, but I'd almost guarantee that someone's having eggs benedict. On the left, we have John (aka Jake, aka PopTarp), who sails with Alan (aka SOS) second from right, Dawn (aka SandyBottom) at right, and, of course, Kristen.

I'm sorry to report that Dawn's father passed away yesterday morning. You can get details at Dawn's blog, linked above, but suffice to say that her mother and sister insisted that she continue with the Everglades Challenge. He had been sick for quite some time, and Dawn has flown to Hawaii every couple of months to see him and help out with care. In any case, our thoughts are with her.

Everglades Challenge 2014

It's time for round eight of KiwiBird's Adventures goes to Florida. If all went as planned, KB picked up SandyBottom at 05:00 this morning, and by now they've feasted on fried chicken at the stand at the back of the BP station (above) in Midway, Georgia, and should be near Jacksonville. And all in such luxury--in the new-to-KB Toyota Venza with (imagine this!) cruise control.

Prep for this year's EC has been minimal, what with the demands of work and school, but she'll paddle her way back into fitness within a couple of days. At this point, the weather forecast looks fairly benign: A bit chilly, with highs having trouble threatening 21C (70F) at Fort Desoto, and northerly winds at 16 KPH (10 MPH) or less.

As has often been the case in previous years, your faithful correspondent is Floatsome. I'll be with you daily until Thursday, March 6, when I fly to Tampa to ferry the Venza to Key Largo. Recall also that you can follow progress at the WaterTribe Tracking Map once they start on Saturday morning. You may also find some worthwhile commentary at the WaterTribe Forum.

Until tomorrow....

A Christening

FliesWithKiwiBird finally let me take out the (NotSo)WeeOne (6) for a long weekend kayaking expedition, in the Seda Tango tandem kayak we'd bought a wee while ago. Floatsome joined us in his solo Mirage, and we decided to spend three nights/four days camping on Shackleford Banks, as I've often regaled Andrew with stories of the wild horses I've seen there when I've solo camped. And it's just a beautiful island, eight miles long, wonderful fine white sand, gorgeous ocean views and clear night skies, and you can wild camp any where.

We didn't want to drive the three+ hours to Beaufort without testing Andrew out first, so had taken him to my local training lake--Jordan--for a 30 minute spin, just to make sure he wasn't going to baulk--thankfully we left with him begging for more.

We left from Harker's Island with a beautiful clear day, though a 5-knot wind against us, as was the tide. Fully loaded with gear and a lot of water, I'd often have to remind Andrew to keep paddling, as there were times we weren't making any head way! 9km and a few hours later we rounded the point opposite Cape Lookout lighthouse and meandered down the island to find just the right camp site.

The crazy thing I never get used to on Shackleford is that we're on the east cost of the US, but the sun goes down over the Atlantic--it's the odd shape/angle the island is.

Cooking dinner up for the first evening. Never thought I'd bring a sieve/colander away on a kayak camping trip, but I hate soggy pasta and it packs flat--a great find.

Lookout Bight in the background.

A view of behind the sand dunes looking east, and back to civilization. We counted 15 wild horses in the distance, seemingly munching on the sea grass.

Sunday morning, we paddled over to Cape Lookout Lighthouse, another sight high on Andrew's want-to-see list.

We wandered around and then over to the seaward side of the Outer Banks.

We returned to the camp site via an inside loop of Lookout Bight, to paddle among the 50 odd mostly yachts and a few launches moored for the long weekend. The night before we'd sat on the beach gazing at the mass of masthead lights--it looked like a scene from Tangled, when all the lanterns are released--stunning.

And this is sometimes how I'd see Andrew paddling... "Andrew, I really need your help about now." Amazing what a difference he would make!

And then a wild foal gamboled onto the beach, and back up to its guardians, Andrew chasing along below them in utter delight.

 Lovely sunny evenings...

We had planned to spend three nights on the island, but Monday morning around 0700 a huge bank of black headed our way from offshore. We quickly dragged our tents, full of gear, to behind a couple of sand dunes and within about 15 minutes we were each tent bound for over two hours as 35 knot winds and lashing rain hit us--what a racket! Nothing fazed Andrew as we played a few imaginary games and chatted away. It was so noisy that I couldn't even yell over to David to check how he was faring.

When we finally surfaced, after a fair bit of discussion we decided to head home. Tomorrow's forecast wasn't too hot, and a fair incoming tide would be much later in the afternoon. We also knew we'd gain lots of browny points, acting so careful, like.

It was a terrific paddle back, even with Andrew "napping" every now and then, with a slackish tide and 15 knot winds astern. With Andrew paddling we even hit 5.1mph!

It was a sleepy chappie on the way home...

But a happy one, who'd even lost his first tooth the day before...

Today I became an American citizen!

A very nice ceremony this morning, at Raleigh-Durham's new US Citizenship and Immigration Services offices. I was one of 57 new citizens, representing 37 countries. One of the best parts was the Call of Nations, when every country represented was called out and those from them asked to stand. There were folks from Afghanistan, Syria, Nigeria, Kenya, Panama, Zimbabwe, Mexico, Ireland, Slovakia, Ukraine, Canada, Britain, India, South Korea, and others—a real representation of the American melting pot. That brought a tear to my eyes.

Of course, what really set me awash, was the sign off, with a video of Lee Greenwood's song, God Bless the USA.

As we left, Andrew held my hand and said, Congratulations, Kristen."

Next steps: registering to vote, and applying for a US passport!

EC2013 Days 6-7

Homeward Bound, as that great ol' song goes!

With FeralCat still snoring soundly as we packed up over him—later moving to a bit more space where SandyBottom's tent used to be—and me feeding DeadCat an apricot as she snuggled in her hammock—we headed off as dawn broke. Destination Flamingo, and Flamingo's WaterTribe-famous microwave hamburgers.

In true EC fashion, the tide was roaring out against us paddling up the Harney River, so we hugged the southern side of the mangroves to find some slack. It's always terribly exciting turning that last long right hand bend of the Harney into Shark River. Often, for some bizarre reason, if you've had the wind against you heading west up the Harney, you'll often still have it on the nose paddling east out the Shark. Not today. We caught the tide out, and even a breeze woke up, to pop sails.

In only one previous EC—my first—have I had the weather opportunity to have a decent paddle/sail down the long, wide expanse of Whitewater Bay. Normally, the winds have been atrocious, and we've had to head right across  east to snake down Joe River—which may shelter you from the seas that kick up on Whitewater Bay—but the winds are only slightly reduced, with only low grasses offering some protection. This was the second time, and what a lovely, sunny ride we had down the Bay, averaging around 4 knots.

Around 1400 hours, we arrived at Flamingo, with Seiche and KneadingWater's family to greet us. We'd decided on the way down to not stay the night at Flamingo—hey, we're not that much on holiday!—but to keep on paddling the last 55 kms (34 miles) across Flamingo Bay, perhaps resting on a key for the night, on the way to the finish at Key Largo. So we took off our for'ad and stern hatch covers, and with four of us hanging on to each side of the rim of each hatch, one-by-one slowly carried our four boats the 200m or so from the northern side of Flamingo's ramps, to the ramps of the southern marina. It was the most walking we'd done in a week.

Then it was burger time! And waiting for SandyBottom to reach Flamingo, to check what her plans were.

One day I'd like to visit Flamingo, in clean, dry clothes, and try one of the Flamingo microwave burgers, just to see if they taste as incredibly good as they do after six EC days. Just 45 seconds in the microwave et voila, heaven on earth. Down we scoffed those, watching SandyBottom arrive. She decided to stay a few hours to rest, and then perhaps head across Flamingo Bay later that evening. We mentioned that we may be on Rankin or End Keys, if she felt like stopping by.

Flamingo Bay. We paddle left to right.

And we were off. The first hour or so felt as though I was paddling in treacle. The tide was heading out, and there's a lot of water moving with that tide. It took us some time to finally reach Tin Can Alley, to truly head south. Flamingo Bay is around 99% very shallow—we're talking 30-50cms or mostly less in many places—with a few strategically placed windy channels—perhaps 60-70cms deep—to make one's way across. This is why speedboats have to stay on the plane to get from Point A to B. And one never leaves one's craft—the mud can suck you down. And without a chart for the day (or great local knowledge), and a GPS for night, you've pretty much had it trying to find your way across. I've never seen a pleasure boat on Flamingo Bay at night.

Seiche powering along.

KneadingWater, I believe pointing to the heavens...

Once past Tin Can Alley, we popped up sails and in dead calm, glassy waters, sped along. The sunset behind us was superb. We reached Rankin Key just before dusk, so decided to keep paddling in such superb conditions. KneadingWater shot ahead, and as night fell, we donned warmer jackets and turned night lights on. It kicked up a bit as we neared End Key, KneadingWater trying to find an appropriate place to make camp for four. HammerStroke, Seiche and I had pretty well decided that we'd keep paddling, but once we hit the beach, KneadingWater was a little less gung ho, mentioning that it would be safer to stay put. Hey, I'm back on holiday!

I was glad we stopped, in no hurry not to miss another last night of camping with great pals. We each found a wee place to pitch a tent in the scrub, and gathered together in the dark to cook a meal and yarn. It was nearer 2200 hours before we hit our pits. Everyone seemed to sleep very well. I was happy to lay there resting, dozing off every now and then. At 0400 I asked KneadingWater to stow his FEK sail, flapping as the wind increased, and around 0500 we were up and packing. The wind had changed more around to the NNW, and I realized that strategically, we should have taken Crocodile Dragover as our route across. If anyone else took that more NW route, they'd be well home before us.

With the wind coming in kicking up the foam in the shallows, the beach looked as though it had snowed in the night.

Of course, once we rounded Manatee Key, the keen NNW hit us, making a fairly typical long, wet—yet satisfying—ride to Key Largo. It's no fun if the last 10 miles or so are too easy!

As always it's great to paddle around that final point and slowly see—and hear—everyone waiting on the dock and beach at the finish line, cheering you in. Just makes you want to come back again next year...

A very happy KiwiBird, at Key Largo.

EC2013 Day 5

Squeaking through the Nightmare at pretty well low tide.

A really fun day! Only a 46.6 km (29-mile) paddle today, to the next chickee on our permits, Harney River, but we still had to navigate the Nightmare and the eastern reaches of Broad River—all narrow, gnarly, overgrown channels, even more of a challenge when the tide's out...

Knowing that we only had a short paddle—but, hey, I'm on holiday now!—we all decided to sleep in until dawn, around 0600. But, as we have all come to know, as soon as that first zip goes off... Alex O was off first, and then SandyBottom. I soon followed, just as dawn peaked, knowing that HammerStroke, Seiche and KneadingWater would catch us up pretty quickly.

Dawn in the Wilderness Waterway is spectacular. As the mangroves are fairly low, you see everything—and that low sun in the morning can be pretty hard on your eyes as it reflects off the water so low. I hardly wore my sun glasses this year, and could see so much better, not fighting against salt-stained lenses. I found that with my Kokatat sun hat brim low, and my Buff up high under my eyes, I had no problems against the glare; and wearing a Buff, it meant my sunnies didn't fog up.

I shortly caught up with SandyBottom, with AlexO tagging her. The wind picked up, and we had some pretty close sails across the wider open bays. Until we hit Broad River. In true EC style, we doused sails as the blast hit us full on, and for what seemed like hours, hugged the southern side of the mangroves, trying to find shelter from the wind, and some respite against the very strong incoming tide. It's a long stretch of river.

HammerStroke, Seiche and KneadingWater stopped off at Broad River chickee—another favourite of ours—with KneadingWater immediately falling in. SandyBottom, AlexO and I declined and headed around the corner for the infamous Nightmare, afraid the tide would be falling even further. And it was.

There's only one real obstacle in the 13 km (8-mile) Nightmare when the tide's down—a pretty good sized log, right across your path. In a previous year, the tide had been high enough for me to just run it, up and over. Not this year! With SandyBottom and AlexO waiting patiently behind me, I tried to run it—raised about 10-12cm above the water—but got firmly stuck not even half way across. No pushing with my Greenland paddle was going to push me over—in fact, I had to stop trying to pole as the mud kept going on forever, swallowing up my paddle. Not wanting to break the back of my boat, SandyBottom paddled up and brought her sturdy Kruger bow aside my cockpit. I lifted myself out of the ocean cockpit—not as easy as a keyhole cockpit!—lowered my bum onto the bow of the Kruger, and stood up on the very muddy, slippery, narrow log. I then tugged my boat over the log, and managed a variation on a cowboy entry to regain entry into the cockpit. Et voila! AlexO very kindle captured the sequence.

And from my angle, with AlexO in the background.

Then it was Dawn's turn. She had it down pat, until she slipped off the log and fell in. It was amazing to watch her. She said later, knowing how deep and thick the mud was, no way was she going to touch bottom, instead springing right back up, wet to below her midriff, and not a speck of mud on her!

We both turned around and said, "Okay, Alex, let us help you over now." Alex just waved and said, no thanks, he would paddle back and find another route. He ended up heading out to the coast via one of the Nightmare's earlier tributaries, and then coming in Broad River.

Then it was on to the eastern reaches of Broad River. I've always believed that this stretch is far more difficult than the Nightmare. Most of the Nightmare you can paddle; not this section of Broad River. It's more hand-over-hand pulling yourself along. And it's even more fun trying it at night!

A couple more miles and we made Harney River chickee. The tide was a little low, which makes it a bit more difficult to unpack. We got all Dawn's gear out first—we weren't going to drag her Kruger up on to the chickee! By the time we were ready to unload me, HammerStroke arrived, and helped me drag my boat up, gear and all. By this time, Seiche and KneadingWater arrived. We put the boys on one side of the chickee, and Dawn and I on the other. I'm not too sure how long this chickee's going to last. It was starting to groan and sway a bit with us all decked out.

We ate dinner even before the sun went down. AlexO passed soon later, and waved on as he kept paddling to Flamingo—quite a paddler.

Pretty much asleep, we heard a couple of boats arrive, and the voice of FeralCat warning us to move on over! DeadCat strung her hammock to the side of Dawn and my tents, and FeralCat just hunkered down on a three-quarter length of 2mm foam, threw a space blanket over himself, with his paddling boots as a pillow, and slep soundly through the night. I could tell, as his head was only a foot or so from mine, and his snoring loud enough to scare away any pythons. Had to admire the bugger!

Near midnight or so, I could hear someone calling out "here, kitty, kitty," anticipating that the Cats were on the chickee. Seeing everyone else sound asleep and not an inch of chickee to spare, Scareman and OneEyedJake slowly paddled off, looking for a bit more room.