April 20, 2000

Moonless Night

4 miles

The last time I was at Belle Haven was the last moonlight paddle I went on. The weather had been yucky on Tuesday, the full moon, and Wednesday was little better. The decision was to go anyway on Thursday, with the chance we might see the moon peek out from behind the clouds.

I had stacked the deck against us. Although I checked the tide table (high tide would be near 10:00 pm) I didn't notice moonrise would not be till 9:50 pm. Too late to be of any visual use.

I was on the water by 7:15 and paddled out just a short way so I could keep an eye out for Amigh and watch the sailboats come in for the day. The wind was really kicking up and I was glad most of our paddling would be in the somewhat protected marsh.

Near 8:00 I could see someone standing up at the Astroturf, but in the dimming light couldn't make out who it was. I could see Steve, the guy who takes care of the sailboats when they come in. He yelled for me to come over and as I got closer I could see Amigh's green kayak on her car.

Her first night time paddle, Amigh's gear was quickly loaded and we paddled off towards Dyke Marsh. Before we got too far and before it turned completely dark I cracked a couple of chemical glow sticks and stuck them under the rear bungies of the kayaks. The last time out at night we had run into a group of kayakers from Atlantic Kayak. Everyone had a white light on their back and was hard to distinguish between them. Our green glow helped Mardi, Joan, and I to easily distinguish between those in the touring group and us.

We paddled out towards the Potomac to head south to the marsh entrance. It was slow going against the strong wind and the waves were up close to a foot high. I thought to myself that it would be an exhilarating return trip.

With darkness brings the illusion of speed. Despite the strong wind it appeared we were moving quickly through the water. But by checking our progress against the shore it was easy to tell this illusion was in fact an illusion.

I wasn't quite sure where the entrance for the marsh was, as it looks so different at high tide. At low tide it is a series of twisting, winding passageways, but at high tide most of it is wide and open. I suggested we head closer towards shore to make it easier to find the entrance, and as we closed in the entrance revealed itself directly ahead.

As we turned into the marsh with the wind to our backs our speed picked up and we were blown along at a good pace. The waves were being blocked, but the wind still had a good amount of spirit left in it. After a bit of coasting we passed a tree full of Blue Herons. They took flight as we passed and this was about the only wildlife we saw on the way into the marsh. I was disappointed that the night had turned out so badly. Not only had I misjudged the moonlight, but the wind and lack of animals seemed to make it less then the ideal night time trip. We had come to the turn around point and my displeasure with myself was growing in that leading someone on their first night time paddle would be a disappointment for them.

I had been told there was a short cut out of the marsh, and the last time here we had failed to find it. So on our outbound trip we started to explore some of the nooks and crannies of the marsh to see if we could find it. We began to raise the alarm of the resident geese population. Usually banded together in twos, they would honk for quite a long time at us, even after we had passed.

At one of the more twisty parts of the marsh I demonstrated to Amigh how even the sparse vegetation can provide a lee in a strong wind. Although your upper body is still taking the force of the wind, your kayak, being much closer to the water can benefit a great deal from this wind shadow by paddling right next to the reeds.

At one area I moved deeper into the reeds to see if I could push my way through to the river, just a short 20 feet away. As I moved in my paddle touched something that moved! I was in mid sentence talking with Amigh and thought I would swallow my words as the sudden movement beneath my blade startled me. After getting my words back I mentioned I thought something had moved under my paddle to Amigh.

A few seconds later Amigh noticed a beaver swimming a zigzag pattern away from us. I was surprised he wasn't slapping his tail and I wondered if he was afraid I might hit him again with my paddle if he did. As we finally got about 50 feet away from him he slapped his tail and was gone.

We continued to poke around but never found the short way out. In the process we did flush a few small ducks from their nighttime roost. Back at the river the wind would again be at out backs. But this time the waves would be coming from behind. A chance to do some surfing. My not-all-in low brace practice had really paid off. As I would broach coming down a wave, I would turn the non-power side of my blade to the water and allow it to skim along. I rarely needed to brace, but the skimming across provided a strong confidence builder that it was there if needed.

Amigh was on a roller coaster ride. Her short wide Gannet was feeling every part of the wave. She once passed me on the same wave I was on and it looked like the bottom of her boat was almost even with my coaming.

Not wanting to scare the first timer too bad, we headed into a more protected area for the rest of the trip back. After leading us into several dead ends and around some large floating trees, I finally got us back to the launch site about 10:00 pm.

The high tide had really come up. Amigh's car was sitting in water. Not real deep, but still a surprise. We loaded up and I headed for home. Two minutes from home, near 11:00 I noticed the moon peek out from behind the clouds for the first time.