Shingle

Though the air was calm and nearly windless this morning, I let the weathervane choose my direction: east or west; I chose east.


I paddled alone on one of the glassier surfaces I've seen on the ocean for awhile. Russ, Camp and Bold islands passed by on my right, quiet and foggy. A few boats hovered around their traps. The buoys are beginning to dot the water surface now, which is a sign that the water is warming up, and despite complaints of poor fishing, the lobsters are probably coming in.



Seals were everywhere as I approached Shingle Island- enough that I altered my course to avoid them. Pups lay on shore and swam with parents, who eyed me with suspicion. It's funny how seals react to kayaks. Noisy lobsterboats can pass by all day and make little impression. When the seals see an approaching kayak, the alarm is sounded and they dive. It's probably in their blood: fear of the vessel that traditionally hunted them.

I'd hoped to go on to Shabby Island, but I had over four miles to paddle back to Stonington and get to work. It's always good to leave an island or two for another time. On the way back, I saw the first porpoises I've seen since last fall.


Oh yes. I'm noticing logbook entries at the "clubhouse"- our kayak storage facility. Other people have returned from their winter haunts and have gone out. I'm sure I'll encounter one in person one of these days.

McGlathery

This morning I took a paddle before work. Once again, it had been a difficult week, and I needed to get out. McGlathery is a fairly straightforward paddle, especially when the wind is from the north or south. Like a few other islands on the south end of the archipelago, the smooth granite ledges drop away steeply, and are strewn with huge glacial erratics. The open stretch to the south invites a pleasant swell as you paddle past the boulders. It could be intense and splashy, but this morning it felt somehow calming.


I was alone, but each week I'm seeing more and more other boats on the water. On one island, a woman waved from shore. A few lobsterboats went about their work, but posed little concern. A sailboat and a cruising powerboat were anchored by Round Island, and were underway by the time I headed back. Still in my drysuit (water temp in high 40's) I was still comfortable until about a mile from Stonington, when the breeze turned warm. Back on shore, a few women arrived with sea kayaks. I still haven't encountered another kayak on the water this season.

Sheeps in the Rain

Grog Island

As the weather warms (sort-of) it would seem that we'd be able to get out paddling more and more, but it really just seems to mean we have to do more of everything, like work. Of course, working a lot increases my need to get out there on the water. Over the past few days as we re-opened the gallery, I watched the weather, hoping for a small window of decent enough weather for a paddle... which would ideally coincide with a time I could get away. Neither weather nor get-away time presented itself, and I couldn't find anyone to go with me, so I went by myself this morning.

Little Sheep Island

The good news was that the air temperature and water temperature were the same, which made it easier to dress for both. The bad news: 43 degrees Fahrenheit. I paddled out through the fog, choosing a coastal route to Sheep Island.

Sheep Island

It rained as I approached the Sheeps. Seals lay on exposed ledges, including a lone pup. Fog drifted in and out. The waves picked up, but not much. I could have kept going, but work waited for me back in Stonington.

Kimball Island

Rounding Kimball,
the south end of Isle au Haut in the distance

I'm feeling this one- Kimball Island, just west of Isle au Haut. We had a liesurely start this morning after breakfast at the Harbor Cafe. I was a little worried about how those blueberry pancakes would feel sitting in my stomach, but by the time we were heading back, those calories were long-gone. We paddled out to Kimball in a light breeze that grew into a steady north wind. Kimball Head has a dramatic feel: steep rocks rising from the water, wind-stunted evergreens, big enough waves to keep me from taking pictures, and a view south to the open ocean.

Marsh Cove

By the time we headed back to Stonington, the wind had picked up considerably and the passage across Merchant's Row was a long slog straight into the wind and waves. It's always a little surreal walking down Main Street in my salt-encrusted drysuit after something like that. In town you hardly notice the wind and the sun feels warm. People say, "it must be a beautiful day for a paddle" which it is, but probably not quite what they're thinking.

Passing deer in the Isle au Haut Thorofare

West Halibut Ledges

In that last blog, when I mentioned that we'd be doing an after-work paddle the next day... well, I should have known better. Obviously, blogging about a paddling excursion before the fact is a jinx. Work got in the way. I think both Todd and I would have had better weeks if we'd said to hell with whatever perceived obligations we had and just gone, but we didn't, and it wasn't an easy week.


Today might have easily gone the same way, but by four or five, we both managed to get away. It started out calm and breezed up a bit. By that time, though, we were well on our way out to Sparrow Island and West Halibut Ledges. I guess it's been a month or two since we've been out there, and Sparrow was turning bright green with vegetation and was busy with birds. Seals leapt nearly out of the water, presumeably to distract us from nearby pups. It's always amazing how quickly we can get out to this wild, otherworldly place.



And somewhere out there, the tedious crap that made it a difficult week fell behind. Tomorrow... well, nevermind. Who knows what tomorrow brings?