October 9, 2005

Chocolate Milk

As I launched from Leesylvania, the water was the color of chocolate milk. The rain over the last 24 hours had colored Powells creek with such a heavy sediment load that I couldn't see my paddle blade only a few inches below the surface.

Although it seemed calm as I launched, I could see the waves marching down the Potomac in orderly fashion. With the wind out of the north, Powells creek is well protected from the wind. But I didn't plan to paddle in Powells creek.

I headed for Cockpit Point. This would take me out to the Potomac where I would then change course again to cross the river. The water turned from chocolate milk to a weak coffee with cream along the way. The tide was starting to come in causing the waves to stack a bit.

From Cockpit point I turned southeast and began to cross the river. The following swell gave me quite a push toward Stump Neck. I aimed for the tip of the neck but the opposing current and broaching swell conspired to have me arrive a few hundred yards north of the tip.

Stump Neck is heavily marked with signs forbidding vessels within 1500 feet of the shore. For every large sign warning to keep a good distance, there are 10 smaller signs marking it as a government installation. I stayed outside the crab buoy line, probably within 1500 feet, but I figured if they let the work boats slide... A bass boat came racing out of Chicamuxen Creek and cut the corner much further inshore than I was paddling.

Inside the creek, the grasses spread across the entire creek. It didn't make paddling very difficult, but I was a bit surprised that there did not appear to be a defined channel free of the grass.

The water in the Chicamuxen was not what I expected. Unlike the chocolate milk colored water on the Virginia side of the river, the Chicamuxen's water was crystal clear, almost like spring water.

There were a few boats in the area. I stopped for a moment to ask one if they were having any luck catching fish. None at all. The fisherman told me they were biting good the day before in all the heavy rains.

The grasses quickly narrowed the creek down to a spot only about 10 feet wide. But this channel went on for a few hundred feet then opened back up a bit. I passed a few more fishermen also not having any luck.

As I thought the creek had become too narrow for any more boats I moved to the center to keep from fouling my paddle in the grass. But I was wrong. Around the bend I heard a boat fire up and run up to max throttle so I moved again to the side of the narrow channel. Around the corner came a bass boat, with the driver(?) wearing a crash helmet. Well that was new...

I paddled as far as the water would let me, but the grasses soon closed down the creek. Even then I managed to go on a few hundred feet more as there was plenty of water under the grass. But my fun was over - time to turn back.

The return trip was uneventful. The going more slow against the wind and waves. I stopped in the center of the river to watch a large boat go by, then paddled directly toward the launch. The bouncy water a bit fun. A large sail boat was coming up the river under engine power, but I was well out of his way by the time he was up the river as far as I was.

As I passed Cockpit Point the sailboat turned out to the middle of the river and raised its sails for his run back down river. The crossing from the point to the launch always seems like a long one to me, but it is only a mile and a half.

Near shore I played with standing up in my boat for a few minutes before packing for home. Very few boats today, and water temps in the low 70s. The trees have just a touch of brown in them, but the cool mornings tell me this won't last long.