[Paddlewise] Plum Island Sound, Ma.

Plum Island Sound, Ipswich, Ma. or Chatting With Wild Life Refuge
Officials

Plum Island is 8 miles long and is on the Atlantic Flyway, a waterfowl
migration stop over and nesting area and a National Wildlife Preserve
south of the Massachusetts/New Hampshire border.  I wanted to get down
there during the spring migration and before those nasty, blood sucking,
green flies came out, so this seemed like a good weekend.

I got there around 8:30 or so at pretty close to low tide, which it what
I wanted.  There was a sandy beach leading down to 50-75 yards of flats.
I didn't care too much because I intended to play with the GPS I got a
couple of months ago but haven't really looked at yet. 

In the middle of the flats I see a 10-12 foot kayak with a large cockpit
and wonder what happened.  Pretty soon a guy comes over and starts
chatting.  It's his kayak and no, he's not stuck out there.  The flats
are sand, not mud and he's just unloading.  He's been out fishing for
striped bass and was still pretty physched.  He was fishing in some rips
and hooked into a couple of 2 footers which would then pull him around
and out of the rips.  Kinda like a little Nantucket sleigh ride.  (The
old time Nantucket whalers would give the rope of a harpooned whale to a
bunch of guys in a life boat who would then hang on while the whale
pulled them around until it died).  Stripers have to be 28 inches (I
think) to be keepers so the guy went home empty handed but happy.

When he  didn't sink of sight on the flats, I said to hell with the GPS,
loaded up and took off myself.  I didn't have any real plans so when I
see some breakers about half a mile out I decide to go out and
investigate (there's a quick drop off out there from 2 feet to about
10).  I get about half way out and some little 1 footers appear.  A
little further out they turn into 2 footers and then maybe 2 1/2 feet
and I start wondering how far out I'm going to go before common sense
kicks in.  Then I notice a break in the waves and start thinking about
heading through it.

A little further on the wind picks up and common sense finally kicked in
and I headed back.  There were half a dozen guys fishing from shore and
it wouldn't be among my favorite things having them drag my sorry butt
out of the surf (assuming they noticed).  One of them would probably try
to slip a hook in my mouth and try to claim a state record.  Maybe next
week when I have a little more experience.

So I turn back into Plum Island Sound and head north on the inside of
the island.  Of course there is a 5-10 knot wind blowing from the
northwest.  At least my deck mounted compass says I'm heading north.  It
even says I'm heading north when I remove the 'beener from the bungees
right next to the compass.  In any case there's no question, the wind's
blowing in my face, again.

I have a very vague goal of reaching the Merrimack River which is up at
the other end of Plum Island.  With the wind in my face I figure I'll
watch the 1000's of birds I expect to see along the way, go as far as I
feel like and then head on back, with the wind at my back.  Yeah, right!

There's not much geographically interesting about Plum Island.  All
beach and flat lands with the tide coming in.  At least all of the
development on the west side gave out to... not much.  More flat lands
about half a mile to a mile away.  Oh, BTW, since this is a National
Wild Life refuge, you're not allowed to land, at least until June 7 when
I guess the plucking plover nesting season is over.  I think that's what
someone told me or maybe they didn't like plovers or something.

With the wind in my face and the tide behind me I was expecting some
wave action but there wasn't any at all.  Maybe it wasn't blowing as
hard as I thought or the tide wasn't very strong.  There weren't any
birds either.  :-(

So I'm paddling along and when the development gives way, I look at the
chart and see that's the end of Great Neck.  A little further along I
see a break in the far shore line, yup that must be Rowley River.  I
know exactly where I am.  We're navigating now.  Then I see some green
cans up ahead.  I'm expecting #23 but get #13.  Where'd that sucker come
from?  I look on the chart and there ain't a 13 anywhere.  Obviously a
misprint (probably on the can).  I forget to look at the next can and
don't go near the next but eventually come to #27 so we're back on
track.  I see another break in the far shore so that must be Parker
River. We're really navigating now. 

Now I'm on Plum Island River and things have narrowed down considerably
but I see a couple of islands that will disappear with the tide, where I
expect to see them.  Just call me Magellan.  I come to a little cove
type thingie and can't immediately see where to go (glasses all salted
up).  I'm on the right (east) side so figure I'll just paddle down to
the end and look for the channel.  I find one but figure this is a side
channel.  The chart shows a side channel hooking back up with the main
channel in little ways so I take it. Wrong!!

I head down/up this channel and it's about 10 feet wide with mud banks
about 4 feet high.  Is this cool?  Well it's different.  There are all
kinds of mussel type shellfish sticking out of the mudbanks.  They look
like the farm bred mussels I buy at the store but these have tiny ridges
along the shell.  Because they're wild?  I dunno.  I wonder why the
gulls don't eat them all?  Dunno that either.

I'm paddling/poling along, minding my own business, when all of a sudden
I come to a stop with my paddle blades stuck against either wall.
Hmmmm.  Am I having fun?   I think so.   Well the main channel must be
just ahead.  Then I come to a sharp bend with the banks about 4 feet
apart.  How am I gonna get an 18 foot kayak around that?   I pole
forward and dig the bow into the mud.  I pole backwards and dig the
rudder into the mud.  Back and forth and somehow finally I get around
it.  Am I still having fun?  I'm not sure.

Then I come to a blob of mud with 18 inch channels running to either
side of it.  I try one and can't get through.  I try the other, ditto.
Hmmmm.  Now what?  I'm stuck and I know I can't go back around that
corner.  Not backwards, anyway.  Now I have an attitude problem.

There's open water ahead (if you can call a 3 foot wide trickle open
water) so I decide to get out and pull the 'yak over the hump.  I can
imagine myself getting out of the kayak, sinking up to my arms pits in
mud, not being able to get out, the tide coming in, drowning and not
being found for years and years, like that poor pilot stuck in the
airplane in Romancing the Stone.

As I lean over to get out I see I now have enough room and work my way
through this little channel leaning.  I'm now about a half mile into
this mess and my attitude isn't improving.  Another 50-100 yards of
pushing and pulling and I run out of water :-(.

SH*T!!!!  Now what?  Sit here and wait for the tide to come in and lift
me 4 feet over the mud banks?  Then what?  Where'd the main channel go
and where the hell am I?

So with visions of being found in the year 2050 by Kathleen Turner's
great grandaughter I get  out but am able to scramble up the mud bank,
after a couple of attempts.  Covered in mud, that at least doesn't stink
too bad, I look around and see a pond 100 yards ahead.   I also see a
road with about 10 parked cars.  There's a whole bunch of people with
binoculars pointing and looking at this muddy, bearded, scruffy looking
apparition that has mysteriously popped out of the ground in front of
them.  Is that what the devil looks like?  Probably!

There's not much of anything else around  so this must be the main
channel and I'll have to portage over.  Portage is a French word which I
think means "this sucks!".

So I drag the kayak up out of the Grand Canyon and drag it across the
Great Plains to the dinky little pond in front of all these people.  Did
I tell you this is a National Wildlife Refuge and you're not allowed to
walk around out here?  I paddle around the pond (about 9 inches deep)
with all these people gawking at me and finally admit that's exactly
what it is, a pond..  IT DON'T GO NOWHERE!!!  Did I mention I already
had an attitude?  Oh yeah,  I also got the kayak stuck in the middle of
the pond, got out to pull the boat free, got my feet stuck in the mud,
tripped and fell in front of everyone.  That contributed just a little
bit more to the attitude thing..

So I get out and start dragging the kayak back to the channel figuring
I've got no choice but to drag it all the back to where I started.
That's when I hear the siren.  Guess a birder called the fuzz.  I turn
around and see a jeep with flashers on top (not on), then another jeep
pulls up, and another.  Jeeze, I half expected to see a tank come
rolling down the road.

One of the rangers or whatever starts picking his way towards me and I
start towards him.     As it turned out, he was very nice and
understanding, which has not been my experience with guys wearing little
tin badges.  We chatted for 5 minutes as I explained what I had done and
he explained what I should have done which was go left and follow the
main channel.  

He leaves and I start dragging the kayak again.  I figure I'm going to
have to drag it a mile or so but after about 50 yards I see water in the
channel so I put in, expecting to run into problems again shortly.  I
don't and the channel just gets bigger and bigger until I get back to
the Sound.  What a difference half an hour and some water makes.

I'm paddling along without the spray skirt and look down and see an inch
of water sloshing around in the cockpit.  Oh great, now I'm sinking and
here comes the wind out of the south right in my face.  I can't reach
the bailer or sponge which are behind the seat (good place for them,
huh?) and I forgot about the pump on the deck behind me.  The hell with
it, if I sink, I sink.

I finally start seeing some birds, about 50 ducks with a lot of white, a
couple of really skinny cranes.   I don't care much because I'm still
nursing an attitude.  Besides, the binoculars are under the front seat
of my truck.  I put the spray skirt on and head away from shore so as
not to disturb them, with water sloshing against my calves.  I'm
paddling along  for a while (did I say the wind was in my face again)
and don't feel the water sloshing against my calves anymore.  Maybe I've
sprung/sprang a leak and all the water leaked out?

Nothing looks the same with the tide in.  The Sound has doubled or
tripled in size.  I don't see any of the cans except # 23, as it turns
out, (of all cans) way down/up the Sound.  There are some islands that I
guess were part of the mainland when the tide was out.  There's a house
out there on a real low island that looks like it's floating on the
water.  That would make an interesting picture but I don't have my
camera.  Wonder what it's like over there during high tide and a storm?

I get back to the putin at close to high tide and ride a little wave in
and beach 50 feet from the truck which is something different for me
(hey I been paddlin' in Maine and they have mostly rocks instead of
sand, at least where I've been.   There I get to slam into rocks while
hopping around on one leg as I try to get out of the damn boat).  So
that was pretty cool but then I got reminded what happens when you mix
sand with wet belongings.  At least I don't get sand up the wazoo in
Maine.

The attitude's mostly gone now and I'm trying to look back on it as an
interesting learning experience.  I at least got to bring my most
favorite possession (me) home.

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