Ingram's Bayou
February 17, 2006
by Tina Murphy
As you will recall, this weekday trip was planned in an effort to see Ingram’s Bayou in its pristine state, to look for wintering snowbirds of the avian variety, and to hopefully see mother/baby dolphins. Here is how the trip played out.
Friday morning started off cloudy and gray as we milled around the Exxon Station in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in southern Alabama. In the short time it took to drive from the Exxon to the put-in, Bob Andrews (the trip leader), must have been doing some heavy-duty praying. Like Noah parting the Red Sea, God parted the clouds and let the sun shine about the time we reached the put-in. God usually smiles on Bob’s trips, it seems. Ingram’s Bayou was still pristine – most of the downed trees we saw were due to natural causes – namely, hurricanes. While searching the waterway for dolphins, we came upon a pair of wintering snowbirds onboard a trawler named “Ballou.” They hailed from the northern latitudes of our country (Wisconsin) and were passing a good time in the Florida waters, living aboard their Ballou of a Boat. As if Florida was not paradise enough for one wintering season, they were heading out soon to the Bahamas and then Quebec. The captain assured us he had two very large paddles aboard to put his house-sized boat in motion. Sure! His first mate told us she saw the dolphins recently in the bayou. But apparently, like George Bush’s administration, we have a leak in our organization, for someone let the word out that a contingent of the Mobile Bay Canoe & Kayak Club, along with the West Florida Canoe and Kayak Club were sending 19 of their best paddlers to search for small cetaceans (Bottlenose Dolphins.) And what would a momma dolphin do in that situation? Like any other mammal momma – they skoodaddled.
Meanwhile, the sun was still shining and the temperature hovered at 70 degrees. Not bad for the middle of February. And we paddled on… Joan Grey swept across the water in a “real” kayak (we like her Keowee too); Susan Sasser, practiced refining her paddling technique in her new fashionable lime-green (this year’s hottest color) Necky Zoar Sport LV along with her mother, Sue Sasser, who got did a great job of playing caboose. Sandra and Oren Castille set the upper limit of paddling style with their fancy beaded seats they found in the automotive section of the Nameless Big Box Store. Thanks goes to Nancy Burner who was home babysitting her and Larry’s grandson, Rhen. Larry (granddad) was able to bring along their daughter, Kerry Burner & her husband, Kenny Reeves. Next time maybe Rhen can join us with a toddler-sized paddle and his pint size love of the water.
We gladly welcomed new West Florida members Margaret Haynes (Pensacola) and Mickie Fox (Lillian, AL) along with their friend, Candee Abercrombie to the sport of kayaking. And we were happy to meet Tony, a former Alabamian and a new member of the Mobile Club. He has just retired and moved permanently to Fairhope, AL from somewhere in the middle of nowhere in Ohio – one of those snow-covered states in the northern reaches of our continent. Welcome back to the Great South, Tony. Another snowbird, Adrian Denhaan, a retired engineer from the Deerborn, Michigan, Ford Motor Company, left his kayaks back home to hibernate in the snow and brought his Boston Whaler to the condo for the winter. We bet he brings the yaks and the Whaler next trip.
As most of you have heard, our dear friend Susan Guttman has returned to the hallowed halls of law and is making her contribution to society as a full-time public defender. We have missed her greatly on these weekday paddles. So to ease the pain, she sent her personal representatives and neighbors, Dave & Lindy Kirkpatrick. Dave performed a valuable service by staking out and valiantly guarding the only beach available for a lunch spot. On behalf of the 19 hungry paddlers, we grant Dave the Community Service Award for Hunger Prevention. Susan will be proud!
While we are handing out awards, we must give one to Sara Williamson, who maintained her honor and dignity through sheer grit and willpower. You see, Bob Williamson, stripped down to his shorts at the put-in and treated all the women to some of the sexiest male legs that this club has ever seen. How Sara can control her desire in the midst of this display, we will never know.
Pulling into the take-out, as if on cue, God closed the heavens and let the clouds connect, blocking out the sun. But Bob had asked for one more favor – and the rains held.
Though we did not see dolphins, Bob had already made each person a winner when he handed out the new issue of Southern Tide and Trail magazine to all participants, as we arrived that morning.
Upon bidding our good-byes and farewells, we wished Sandra & Oren a safe trip as they set off to join Frances Stone in her Step-Up Florida Mission in Marianna. Oren promised to help George Russell stock up on a year’s supply of Chipola River Miracle Mud while they paddle the Chipola on Saturday.
Good trip and many thanks to Bob Andrews for a great Friday in the South.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Red Maple Slough
February 19, 2006
by Brint Adams
The shortest and most direct route to Red Maple Slough is to start on the north side of the Causeway at the old Riverdocs launch located 100 meters west of Ed's Seafood Shed. On this blustery afternoon, we had four singles and two tandems launch at around 1:30 PM into a northerly 10 knot wind with a rising tide. With the north wind blowing for the last couple of days, Chacaloochee Bay was lower than normal. We had to skirt around to the west to try and avoid shallow water before entering Conway Creek about one mile north.
There were large flocks of seagulls, great egrets and a few cormorants standing around on the open mud flats along the way. After a short distance on Conway, we took the first right fork into Big Bateau Bay and continued north. We had to stay way out in to middle to again avoid the shallows. Once we reached the north shore and after paddling by an old runabout hull blown up in the woods from a recent hurricane, we entered a narrow channel up in the northeast corner.
The main channel turns west and connects back to Conway Creek, but only a short distance in, we took the first right fork and paddled into Red Maple Slough. It snakes around many sharp turns and eventually ends up in the woods, normally with an abundance of Red Maples. We were shocked to see the storm surge devastation Katrina layed on the area and in particular, the Red Maples. There were dozens of trees blown over, with debris still clinging high in the branches. So, we ended up disappointed to find few standing trees and fewer yet fully budded out.
On the way back out, we stopped along the channel, near where the boat had settled in the woods, to get out, stretch our legs and investigate. The boat turned out to be an abandoned relic that no one would have missed and with nothing of value. So, we jumped back in our boats and upon reaching the mouth, made the turn right on the connector to Conway Creek.
Conway had plenty of water, so it was more pleasant paddling back on it rather than returning down Big Bateau Bay. We passed up the entrance to Savage's Ditch, deciding to wait until later in the spring to venture in it, once the flowers start to bloom and the gators come out to sun. Once back into Chacaloochee Bay, the group again skirted around to the west. With a few more hours of rising tide, it was much easier to paddle back to the launch area.
The total distance traveled was 8.7 miles, which took us 2:35 of paddling time.
February 19, 2006
by Brint Adams
The shortest and most direct route to Red Maple Slough is to start on the north side of the Causeway at the old Riverdocs launch located 100 meters west of Ed's Seafood Shed. On this blustery afternoon, we had four singles and two tandems launch at around 1:30 PM into a northerly 10 knot wind with a rising tide. With the north wind blowing for the last couple of days, Chacaloochee Bay was lower than normal. We had to skirt around to the west to try and avoid shallow water before entering Conway Creek about one mile north.
There were large flocks of seagulls, great egrets and a few cormorants standing around on the open mud flats along the way. After a short distance on Conway, we took the first right fork into Big Bateau Bay and continued north. We had to stay way out in to middle to again avoid the shallows. Once we reached the north shore and after paddling by an old runabout hull blown up in the woods from a recent hurricane, we entered a narrow channel up in the northeast corner.
The main channel turns west and connects back to Conway Creek, but only a short distance in, we took the first right fork and paddled into Red Maple Slough. It snakes around many sharp turns and eventually ends up in the woods, normally with an abundance of Red Maples. We were shocked to see the storm surge devastation Katrina layed on the area and in particular, the Red Maples. There were dozens of trees blown over, with debris still clinging high in the branches. So, we ended up disappointed to find few standing trees and fewer yet fully budded out.
On the way back out, we stopped along the channel, near where the boat had settled in the woods, to get out, stretch our legs and investigate. The boat turned out to be an abandoned relic that no one would have missed and with nothing of value. So, we jumped back in our boats and upon reaching the mouth, made the turn right on the connector to Conway Creek.
Conway had plenty of water, so it was more pleasant paddling back on it rather than returning down Big Bateau Bay. We passed up the entrance to Savage's Ditch, deciding to wait until later in the spring to venture in it, once the flowers start to bloom and the gators come out to sun. Once back into Chacaloochee Bay, the group again skirted around to the west. With a few more hours of rising tide, it was much easier to paddle back to the launch area.
The total distance traveled was 8.7 miles, which took us 2:35 of paddling time.
Saturday, February 04, 2006
Boiling Creek & Little Boiling Creek
Saturday, February 4, 2006
by Gary Worob
A FALLING OUT
I had a falling out yesterday...it was pretty dramatic...at least in my mind. It is the first time in probably 30 years that this happened, which made it all the more dramatic for me....and I love drama.
I had paddled the lower part of Boiling Creek to the Yellow River and then to the Hwy 98 take out, with a group that was mostly new to me. We were a gathering of 4 different tribes: the Mobile group-four of us, the Emerald Coast Kayak Club, sort of, the Adventure Club and the West Florida Canoe Club. But really, we were not from any club and that was part of the discussion and realization of the day. We were paddlers on one of the most beautiful bodies of water in the USA, Boiling Creek.
Fortunately, the road before and after the wooden bridge put-in was beautifully graded. The giant sink hole that spanned the road after the bridge, was gone. I decided our group would join the rest and paddle downstream. No one in our group had ever seen Boiling Creek, and it was a perfect day to go. It was a great paddle and fun to watch Cindy and Charmagne take their first tour of such a wonderful place, and they professed a great desire to return. Everyone who paddles Boiling Creek wants to return.
Anyhow, we covered the distance including lunch too fast for me. The current was so fast, after the heavy rains, that even with exploring, we were done by about 1:00 PM. That was too fast and when we shuttled back to our vehicles, I saw Brint's car and knew immediately where he was and I was going on a second trip.
I raced up to Little Boiling Creek and drove down the 6 tenths of a mile on a new road to me. I bounced over large tree roots and hairpin turns and then heard Brint calling my name. I knew we were in for an adventure. We were explorers on a first time journey. Brint was busy sawing his way upstream. He was literally weaving a new trail through this gorgeous series of channels and undergrowth. I raced to a wonderful landing and paddled the boat upstream at full pace.
I caught up to Brint about a quarter mile upstream after seeing his trail and followed it. There were always lots of choices, as the creek splits up in many places and it goes from very shallow drag and paddle, to clear open waterway in seconds. Brint was busy working and clearing just enough scub to make a channel for one boat at a time, good conservation technique and not harmful to the eco-system. I forged ahead and realized that in some places, it was easier to just get out and walk. I pretended I was the first explorer to ever visit this area. And, in fact, it was a first for me. One of two for me.
I soon made it to within a couple turns of the road and large culvert. We had planned to go through and then up into the mouth of Little Boiling Creek and see if there was a huge beaver dam ahead.
I never made it. One minute, I was paddling hard upstream, weaving in and out of trees and grassy islands, and the next minute I was in the water looking up and wondering how I got there. I was totally submerged under my canoe. I flipped out of the boat by something under the water that I did not see into the deepest channel. It was instantaneous. I came up and starting laughing. I had been skunked, as it was the first time that I can remember in, I don't know how many years, and it was too funny, for awhile.
The water was very warm and swimmable temperature. But, I was dressed warm and now I was dressed in soggy wet clothes. Brint caught up and saw me standing there dripping. I said my choice was to drag the boat out and walk the short distance to my van and change. He went on ahead and finished clearing and made it to our new put-in sight. It will now be a wonderful downriver adventure paddle, thanks to Brint. We loaded both boats and headed to his vehicle, quite content that two pioneers had explored new territory. It was great. I can't wait to try it out.
So, that was my falling out, and I loved it.
Saturday, February 4, 2006
by Gary Worob
A FALLING OUT
I had a falling out yesterday...it was pretty dramatic...at least in my mind. It is the first time in probably 30 years that this happened, which made it all the more dramatic for me....and I love drama.
I had paddled the lower part of Boiling Creek to the Yellow River and then to the Hwy 98 take out, with a group that was mostly new to me. We were a gathering of 4 different tribes: the Mobile group-four of us, the Emerald Coast Kayak Club, sort of, the Adventure Club and the West Florida Canoe Club. But really, we were not from any club and that was part of the discussion and realization of the day. We were paddlers on one of the most beautiful bodies of water in the USA, Boiling Creek.
Fortunately, the road before and after the wooden bridge put-in was beautifully graded. The giant sink hole that spanned the road after the bridge, was gone. I decided our group would join the rest and paddle downstream. No one in our group had ever seen Boiling Creek, and it was a perfect day to go. It was a great paddle and fun to watch Cindy and Charmagne take their first tour of such a wonderful place, and they professed a great desire to return. Everyone who paddles Boiling Creek wants to return.
Anyhow, we covered the distance including lunch too fast for me. The current was so fast, after the heavy rains, that even with exploring, we were done by about 1:00 PM. That was too fast and when we shuttled back to our vehicles, I saw Brint's car and knew immediately where he was and I was going on a second trip.
I raced up to Little Boiling Creek and drove down the 6 tenths of a mile on a new road to me. I bounced over large tree roots and hairpin turns and then heard Brint calling my name. I knew we were in for an adventure. We were explorers on a first time journey. Brint was busy sawing his way upstream. He was literally weaving a new trail through this gorgeous series of channels and undergrowth. I raced to a wonderful landing and paddled the boat upstream at full pace.
I caught up to Brint about a quarter mile upstream after seeing his trail and followed it. There were always lots of choices, as the creek splits up in many places and it goes from very shallow drag and paddle, to clear open waterway in seconds. Brint was busy working and clearing just enough scub to make a channel for one boat at a time, good conservation technique and not harmful to the eco-system. I forged ahead and realized that in some places, it was easier to just get out and walk. I pretended I was the first explorer to ever visit this area. And, in fact, it was a first for me. One of two for me.
I soon made it to within a couple turns of the road and large culvert. We had planned to go through and then up into the mouth of Little Boiling Creek and see if there was a huge beaver dam ahead.
I never made it. One minute, I was paddling hard upstream, weaving in and out of trees and grassy islands, and the next minute I was in the water looking up and wondering how I got there. I was totally submerged under my canoe. I flipped out of the boat by something under the water that I did not see into the deepest channel. It was instantaneous. I came up and starting laughing. I had been skunked, as it was the first time that I can remember in, I don't know how many years, and it was too funny, for awhile.
The water was very warm and swimmable temperature. But, I was dressed warm and now I was dressed in soggy wet clothes. Brint caught up and saw me standing there dripping. I said my choice was to drag the boat out and walk the short distance to my van and change. He went on ahead and finished clearing and made it to our new put-in sight. It will now be a wonderful downriver adventure paddle, thanks to Brint. We loaded both boats and headed to his vehicle, quite content that two pioneers had explored new territory. It was great. I can't wait to try it out.
So, that was my falling out, and I loved it.
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