October 9, 1999

The 500th mile

Trip #55

15 Miles

Map

In the middle of the Potomac I looked left to see a large ship heading my way. It was way up river and much too early to be concerned about it. I paddled on for about 10 more minutes and looked again. Still a bit far to tell for sure, but I alter course a little to make sure there will be no problems later. Another 5 minutes go by and now I can tell I need to alter course to stay out of the way of this large ship. It's big. Bigger than any ship I've seen this far up on the Potomac. I alter course again but this time the ship seems to alter course as well, putting me back on a collision course. I'm getting dangerously close and running out of options while at the same time paddling with all my might. By now I'm so close my kayak feels like it is being pulled back towards the ship by its propellers. I try my best to paddle at right angles but no matter what it seems the ship is staying on top of me. Before I know it, the ship IS on top of me and I'm being sucked under the hull by the massive propellers. The last sound I hear is my wooden boat starting to disintegrate as it is pulled full force along the bottom of the hull.

My alarm clock goes off at 6:00 a.m. and I awake with a jolt. It's all I can do to keep from shouting "SH*T!". My morning has started with a nightmare. I shake it off and drag myself out of bed. It takes me a while to get focused and on the road and in the middle of town there is a bad car wreck, which causes a detour. It's 8:15 when I finally shove off at Quantico.

The tide is running out so I'm quickly spit out of the narrow creek and into the Potomac. As I near the edge I see some small and narrow waves coming directly at me. These are wind driven from the south, but they haven't picked up much mass and are narrow from the front to the rear of the wave. This causes my kayak to seem as though it is a teeter-totter as my bow buries under every wave.

It is 5.5 miles directly to my first waypoint. But traveling in that direction takes me head on into the waves and wind. I decide to slightly quarter the waves and choose the south end of Mallows Bay as my navigation waypoint. The going is slow. And 30 minutes into the trip I've managed to only reduce the gap between me and Thorne Gut by one mile. In an hour the distance has shrunk by just over two miles. I was thinking I should shorten my trip plans since the going is so rough and my shoulder is feeling every paddle stroke.

Despite the pain in my shoulder I'm glad to see the waves. It's been quite a while since I've been able to paddle in any wind. I figure though that as I get closer to the western shore that the waves will get smaller and I'll eventually pick up speed.

Near the channel I look and see a big boat heading my way. My nightmare flashes back to my mind and I decide to sit tight while the boat passes. After also waiting for a sailboat to pass I head across the marked channel and to the south end of Mallows.

An hour and 45 minutes into the trip I've only managed to cover 4 miles. I think about heading back but instead push on. The wind is not so bad near the western shore and I think my speed is picking up. The bass boats are thicker along the shore. While out in the middle of the Potomac I had the water all to myself. Only the work boats and the occasional fisherman crossing the river ever ventured out there.

As I enter Wades Bay I decide to hug the shore and benefit from the protection from the wind. The water appears flat towards shore and as I paddle in I find out why - hydrilla has choked this end of the bay. I turn back south into more open water and just cut across the bay.

On the other side I begin looking for my first destination. Thorne Gut has to be here somewhere. If not for the insistence of my GPS, I would have never found it. It was barely the size of a small ditch. Certainly not navigable. So I beach the kayak for lunch hoping my second waypoint would prove a more interesting destination.

On the other end of the bay there are people standing on the beach milling about. I can't tell from where I am what they are doing but it looks like they are going over one of the duck blinds. After finishing up lunch I strike out for waypoint number two - The south end of Brent Marsh.

The wind has shifted from the south east to the south west which negates all advantage I should have had crossing the river. At least I'm not heading straight into the waves any more. The river is almost three and a half miles wide here and I need to get to the directly opposite shore. The tide was still running out as you can tell by my curved track on the southern end of the map.

In the middle I again thought about turning north and heading back. With the wind at my back it would be smooth sailing and peaceful with the lack of boats in the middle of the river. But again I stuck to the script since I did want to see what Brent Marsh looked like.

In the middle of the river were some sticks stuck down in the water. Along with that was a string that also went into the water and the extra amount coiled up and hung on the sticks. I checked the GPS and find I'm crossing over 500 miles as I pass this point. I briefly thought about doing a victory roll, but the prospect of having to stop and put on my paddling jacket to block the wind after getting wet didn't appeal to me.

At Brent Marsh I paddle up near what appears to be one of several islands protected by rotting wooden seawalls. As I got closer though I see these are sunken wooden ships that trees have grown up in. There are fisherman all around and I ask how the fishing is going. No one today has caught any fish. To stay in deeper water I don't go in close to the marsh. The hydrilla is too thick to bother with today. But my butt is starting to need a break so I begin looking for an easy place to land.

I pull ashore just north of Clifton Point. Here I look around the hard rocky outcroppings for fossils but find none. While getting back in the kayak I notice the water has turned shinny. The wind has stopped, and as usual robbed me of the free ride back. But I press on with persistence and finally turn into the little creek leading to the boat ramp. As I pass near the bridge a car with a kayak on top crosses on the way away from the boat ramp.

When I got home I downloaded the track into the computer. I find because of an addition error in my journal I never crossed the 500 mile mark.

My alarm clock goes off at 6:00 a.m. and I awake with a jolt. It's all I can do to keep from shouting "SH*T!". My morning has started with a nightmare...8^)