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. *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List Submissions: paddlewise_at_lists.intelenet.net Subscriptions: paddlewise-request_at_lists.intelenet.net Website: http://www.gasp-seakayak.net/paddlewise/ ***************************************************************************
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