September 24, 2004

Engraved Silence

Westmoreland State Park is near George Washington's birthplace on the Potomac River, but my scouting trip was a bit west - On the Rappahannock River.

The first stop was Wilmont Wharf, about 12-13 miles north/northwest of the park. It was as I remembered it - fair amount of parking, porta-potty - no one else there. Certainly on the 'to do' list. No signs disallowing a night paddle.

Stop #2 on my StreetAtlas software was Smith Mount Landing, so I programmed that as the next stop and blindly followed the GPS and laptop computer, letting it tell me when I needed to turn ("turn right, SR 678 - 52 seconds"). As I got close I found the landing is really called "Harts Landing". A small parking area - maybe 4 cars, less with trailers. Muddy and cramped, I hoped to find a bit better spot. Signs expressly forbade using the park after dark.

I again reprogrammed the laptop to guide me toward Carters Wharf and headed off being told by a quite animated voice what my speed and time to next turn was.

Carters Wharf was a great surprise. Even more parking than the first stop, but no porta-potty. There was one car - a woman sitting on the small dock and a man heading off to look for sharks teeth at a nearby limestone cliff. No signs prohibiting a night paddle. Another site added to the 'to do' list.

Ron showed up at the cabin later that evening, and although we started moving around early the next morning, it was 11:00 am before sprayskirts were attached and we were underway. We launched from Wilmont Wharf and headed north. I had never been this direction and Ron and I had discussed passing through Green Bay and exploring Portobago Bay, with a primary destination being Portobago Creek.

Both of us were caught a bit off guard as Green Bay came in to view. The bay was large, much larger than we would expect to see on a river this narrow. We paddled with the current moving along at a good clip past Devil's Elbow, seeing only a boat or two along the way.

The bay invited exploring, but we had distance to cover so we continued on around North Bend and in to Portobago Bay. If Green Bay was big, Portobago was HUGE. It took us some time to paddle to the back of this bay, skirting out near the channel to avoid some shallows. We searched along the bank for Portobago Creek, finding it near the very back of the bay.

The creek had a fairly strong current running and we paddled back as far as we could go before the vegetation became too dense to go any further. We worked our way back out noting to each other that we had seen more Bald Eagles than boats.

We stopped along the shore after exiting the creek for lunch. Neither of us managed to get any good pictures on this day, but a picture or two of a gnarled tree where we stopped survived.

As we paddled back toward the launch, in the distance we noticed a shape on the horizon. Funny shaped house on a distant shore. The house grew closer until the shape turned in to a tug pushing a barge full of gravel.

The tug chugged by us in slow determination, rounding bends in the river as we paddled out of the bay. We watched the top of the tug glide above the low vegetation as it rounded North Bend. The tug was just another surprise for us today we had not expected to see.

We paddled back to the launch - some of the time in slack water, some time against a slight current. As we beached two jet skis flashed by. We facetiously commented how they ruined the day as we were still reeling from everything we saw - or didn't see. Or heard - or didn't hear. The silence of the day spoke volumes and had made it a very special day indeed.

Back at the cabin we met up with Carolyn and decided to grab dinner before a night paddle. After piling in to Ron's car we headed off in search of dinner, stopping at a gas station to ask for recommendations. Back on the road we navigated to Coles Point for some seafood.

On the ride back the yawning was pronounced, but we managed to stay awake to get our things down to the water. The wooden boat ramp was slippery but by walking on the metal part down the center Carolyn and I managed to launch. Ron took a different approach by getting in his kayak and seal launching down the slippery wooden slope.

We paddled east along the cliffs for about a half hour, passing a flashing green channel marker that appeared very out of position. Turning around we headed back toward the boat ramp, pausing long enough to allow a boat coming in to get clear of the boat ramp.

The next morning we arrived at Carter's Wharf and was on the water about 10:00. Again we had taken our time in the morning having coffee and taking our time checking out of the cabin.

On the water we paddled south, soaking in the sunshine and marveling at the lack of power boats on the river. It was as if we owned the river having it to ourselves as we headed for the southern tip of Paynes Island. Around the tip we looked for a place to to land and stretch, and finding nothing, Carolyn and myself hopped out in shallow water to walk around a bit while Ron scouted ahead looking to find the entrance to Occupacia Creek.

Up the creek we went, gliding gently through waters we continued to own. We saw a car go by on a road on the island to our right - the only one we would see. We ventured far up the creek but knew we had to turn around before getting even close to the end. We reluctantly turned, but let our hunger drive us back down the creek to a place we could haul the boats out and eat lunch.

We ate lunch in near silence as I think we all felt this place a bit magic. A few fish roiled the water's surface and we watched some high altitude clouds roll across the sky. I finally had to make a comment about the silence as I've become so accustomed to noise that I actually felt anxiety - expecting something to happen any second to shatter this piece of heaven. For me it was almost a relief to get back in our kayaks so I could hear the splashing of my paddle.

As if we had paddled back through time, before the advent of mechanical engines. We finished our trip out of the creek and headed out on to the Rappahannock. We beached for another break before crossing the river, soaking in the cool water as the sun beat down on us a bit.

A few boats were out, we saw maybe 6 or 7 in the hour it took us to work our way back to the launch. We crossed the river and walked along in the shallow water under the limestone cliffs, looking for fossils. Finding none we turned to the launch to end our day.

We loaded up our kayaks and said our goodbyes. I couldn't help being sad it was over. The weather had been perfect. Friends with whom to share the experience. The water calm and mystical in its aching to be explored. Nothing I could say or write could capture the impression this place left on my soul. I will be back...

Pictures

Woody