Ice is gone and I finally got a kayak outside the cove. It was sunny and high tide, so I figured pickerel would be hungry and on the prowl after a few weeks of ice covered, sunless misery. Not so. I tried shallow water, medium depth water and deep water. Nothin'.
Which was fine with me.
Killing time before the club's Chili Contest and also the Spinsheet Century Club and Racing Team Party, I wanted to check the dinghy for any immediate threats to life and personal property and to my amazement, there were no leaks. Which is weird because I'm pretty sure there were the last time I used it, last fall. I do need to cut out and replace that nasty centerboard slot though. Another project.
I decided to row the dink out to where the lead to open water through the ice cuts off. A good thing is that there were only 30-40 feet of ice left (preventing escape). [Edit: today it's completely gone! ]
Tomorrow could be the first time out of the cove for an honest paddle in over five weeks and I am READY.
Frustrating kayak ride. There's open water farther out in the creek, toward the mouth, but it's just too much trouble and too dangerous to try to reach it. At least for me. I bashed through some thicker stuff in the effort, but there was frozen stuff that was too thick and too narrow to get the 30-40 yards I needed to make a safe portage for the rest of the way. So I bailed.
The plan was to wait for the tide to come back in and then maybe there would be enough depth to proceed farther along shore. But with the flood came the rain and by 1530 hrs it was just too miserable to give it another go. Maybe on Saturday!
A lot of us have learned the term "post-holing" in the past three weeks, whether getting the mail out of the box or taking the trash out or going for a winter hike. One minute you are cruising along on top of the icy crust, the next second you've punched thru into powder, slush or icy water.
I chose icy water.
No big deal, as I had purposefully stayed within a few feet from shore, so the water was mid-shin. But having a boot full of ice water was...ummm...unpleasant. All this was on a quest to get the kayak into open water. I figured I could slide the thing about 50 yards to where there was a new lead into ice-free territory.
The ice seemed fine, until it wasn't. Lesson learned: don't be so smug when you see the news footage of some poor smuck getting rescued from icy water. And thank your guardian angels who let you survive when you solo'ed, 4 decades ago, out on to the Big Lake in Columbia in the early hours before the HoCo cops showed up with bullhorns.
Later on, when the crowds thinned out, a big carp swam lazily under the boat. Then it stopped a few feet away and let me get ridiculously close. I guess it was cold and lethargic.
Thought I could get to open water by beaching the kayak and dragging it out to the point. In the first 60 seconds I had two very wet feet. Turns out the path wasn't on thick ice but thick slush covered by a half inch of overnight freeze. So it was a short kayak excursion.
Also had to re-run a fender. I've never seen one fail like this before. UV fatigue I guess?
Hiked a trail to the back of the creek. The ice was plenty thick to venture out on and even if I punched through it would be about knee deep (not counting another foot of mud I'd need to deal with getting out...)
I got to the club around 1100 hrs and immediately another member approached me and said "come look at this." Someone's boat was sinking in the slip.
I guess what happened was something frozen had finally melted, allowing the surrounding creek ingress. Water was at least 18 inches over the floorboards and almost up to the fids on the berths. We boarded cautiously, not knowing if the sheer amount of water below was enough to slosh to one side or the other and capsize the vessel.
Deploying an electric submersion pump lowered the level significantly in 30-45 minutes. We monitored the bilges for the next three hours and while the water level did rise a little, we figured it might just be from the compartments and hatches slowly emptying.
Point here is: it has been a long sub-freezing spell and it is certain that this will not be the only boat in distress over the next week or so, as temperatures stay above freezing for a while. This could happen to anyone! So check your boat and check your bilge pump!
Otherwise, a nice,very short kayak ride allwoing me to get the new DNR stickers on the boat, so I'm street legal for a couple of years...I guess.
Cabin fever at home. Cabin fever on the creek.
I was hoping there would be an open lead to kayak for more than 45 seconds in one, or many, directions. But there wasn't. All is not lost though, got the remaining snow and ice off the decks and chipped a thick layer of ice out of the cockpit. My cockpit drains are now open!
Batt was still cranking at 12.95 v. so I'll take it. Maybe Friday will yield a lane to open water. Maybe.
Kind of a bogus "day on the water" I guess, but it still took a lot of thoughtful navigation to get around the shoreline and on to the these impressive ice flows. While slipping and sliding at Ft Howard, we watched an ARC car-carrier head down the river and I swear they left a green Brewerton mark, G "7" to port! I guess the pilot knew what was up, or the darn thing would still be there.
We discovered immediately that we weren't going anywhere unless assisted by a stout hiking stick. Crampons would have been a better choice, but we don't own any. Luckily a downed branch not too far from the parking lot provided two stout and pointed sticks when snapped in half. The trick was trying to navigate grades and then, getting back up a hill, no matter how small, was almost impossible. Had to dive into wooded or brushy thickets to move back uphill and grasp saplings or vines.
Biggest surprise was: where did all the ice go? We'd seen drone shots and coverage maps saying the upper bay was 90% full of ice. But when we got to Ft Howard by 1315 hrs, all that was left were huge floes that had made it ashore (we had no idea how) that had fashioned a treacherous, and slightly surreal, seascape.
Haven't been down to RAINBOW in two weeks, and knew I wouldn't sleep well until I dealt with the disappearing waterline, as viewed from the security camera. So the goals were:
- Get on board (not that easy)
- Get below
- Check the battery and bilge pump
- Clear the solar panel
- Remove at least 500 pounds of compacted ice and snow
Having dealt with boats in icy, slippery and potentially deadly conditions for over 40 years, I adopt this simple method for surviving: do not move without thinking about the move first. Then think and move again. Rinse and repeat.
Got on board. It was actually pretty dicey. Like the crowned deck on a J24, every surface was pointing to the water. But there was a tiny bit of footing in the cockpit. The boom and backstays made for adequate handholds however.
Long and short, it took over an hour to gain access to below decks. Battery was fine, 12.17 volts. Solar panel, once cleared, was feeding a trickle to the battery. Bilge pump was working. Another hour and change I had most of the heavy stuff off the decks. Waterline was improved markedly.
Fun day.
Yeah, it was a bit nippy. Air temp in the upper 30s but it was the puffs to 35 that made it slightly less comfortable. Peak gust at Gibson Island was 43.
Around the point, I had to convince 12-15 turkey vultures that I wasn't dead. I don't think I've ever elicited such a warm response from buzzards and from such a large flock...assuming buzzards flock . I guess they were just desparate.
[Edit: a group of buzzards in-flight is called a "kettle" of buzzards]
These winter low tides expose a lot of neat stuff, like this ancient pier hardware that made a nifty "kayak slip" in which to eat lunch. Folks at PSA know a lot more about this than I do, but apparently the structure is from an old alum mine (google: alum) and it's noted in an 1829 issue of American as probably being owned by Richard Caton. Anyway, thanks to the folks 200 years ago for setting up a pleasant, sunny and wind-protected lunch spot!
Also: almost got my remore bilge leak detector working...almost.