Showing posts with label Appalachian Mountain Club. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Appalachian Mountain Club. Show all posts

Friday, August 22, 2014

Sedge Island

Last weekend I went on a cartop trip to Barnegat Bay. What happened was, my friend LB put together a trip under the AMC (Appalachian Mountain Club) banner, inviting friends from various walks of her paddling life, primarily whitewater and the Sebago Canoe Club. I met her on the one whitewater trip I did last year, but since we live in the same neighborhood we've kept in touch and she asked me along.

We cartopped to Island Beach State Park in New Jersey. This is a long barrier "island" the forms the northern stretch of land between the bay and the ocean. The inlet to Barnegat Bay itself is about forty miles south of Sandy Hook, a destination I know well.

I rode with local paddlers-about-town O & D. My first leg in this journey was to paddle my boat from Inwood to Pier 84, next to the Intrepid Air, Sea, and Space museum, a retired aircraft carrier handing off midtown Manhattan.

D & O showed up later and we loaded all three of our boats on our car, then raced out of the city, down the highway, to the park. After introductions, we put in and paddled about a mile out to Sedge Island, our home for the weekend.

Boats Ashore, Argonaut in the Foreground.

The sun sets over the high deck.

The Big Sky.

Sedge Island is a combination research and education center, near the channel bisecting the bay. Our host, Bob, was a biology teacher who'd grown up and worked on he bay, participating in research projects and leading summer trips of students. We stay in a cabin powered by solar panels, with limited water. Generally, I woke and slept with the sun.

One of the ongoing projects involved protecting turtle eggs from predators. Interns would scout for eggs and move them to a caged area pretty well sheltered from predators. When the eggs hatched, the turtles would be nurtured before being released back into the wild.

Protected Turtle Hatchery.

The south porch - better described as the southwest porch - became our main congregating area.

The South Porch.

On our first night, we mostly unpacked and made dinner and learned about the island and each others' names. We were given a demonstration of bioluminescent jellyfish - little critters, the size of a child's hand, that when the water was stirred would spark off some light.

The next morning, the seagulls were OMG loud. I said we woke and slept with the sun, but Saturday morning it was the gulls what woke me up. I made coffee and walked about. Bob was fishing in the narrow channel in front of the house. Across the bay, we could see cloud formations swirling in the distance, a portent of things to come.

As people woke up we slowly assembled breakfast. We expected to be out a bit so had a big breakfast, figuring we could always snack and work it off later. After cleanup, we kitted our boats and Bob led us on a little tour of our environment.

Viewing the Osprey Nest.

This was mostly marsh, with channels cutting through wetlands; ducks, egrets, and wading birds were all on display. Osprey nests were on platforms in the middle. We could also make out oyster beds clinging to the mud in the channels.

Oysters!

We paddled on, eventually exiting and coming to a channel called Snake Creek. The tide was growing against us, surprisingly strong, and we eddy-hopped as much as we could until we reached a small beach near the inlet.

Ol'Barney, aka Barnegat Light.

The Broken Shore.

We saw the remains of a recent Army Corps of Engineers project. The idea was to drape a large canvas tub to block Snake Creek, fill it with sand, and allow a new topography to form. However Nature did not get the memo, and proceeded to flood over and the break the dike. We paddled over its remains the next day.

Later we paddled back over some shallow water. A few got out and hunted for clams.

Paddling Across the Shallows.

I took a stab or five at i but had no luck. Eventually I and about half the group gave up, landed, took a break and then some of us went out for a proper paddle.

D & O and I (that is, me) decided to go for a wee paddle across the channel and around Gull Island. We saw kiteboarder and plenty of  . . .gulls, as one might expect.

Paddling Out.


One thing that was a bit of a surprise was the traffic. On the one hand, we're bad-ass New York City paddlers, accustomed to the harbor and the ferry traffic, tugs and barges and the occasional cruse ship. What were weren't used o was the near-constant parade of recreational boats powering out or returning from the sea. Furthermore, the channel was narrow, but winding, meaning that it wasn't always clear which way or when a given boat was going to turn.

When we came back though, we had a nice surprise.

Clams!

The hunt was successful!

While we'd been out, some of our party had grabbed proper clamming tools and gone out to scoop as many up as they could. Some were grilled, opening as they heated, and others served raw, on the half shell.

Later that night a handful of us did a night paddle around Sedge Island. We kept our lights off in order to better see the glowing jellyfish. It took a while but we spotted a few!

Meanwhile, most of our comrades went night crabbing. Apparently crabs are drawn to light. Shine a light and they'll walk right into your net. They caught a bunch and they were put in a bucket overnight to make crab cakes the next morning - but most escaped, and the last one was too cute to boil.

The next morning LB and I, along with a couple of others, went for a wee paddle before breakfast - before the traffic roared up, more importantly.

Cowgirl on the Water.

Cowgirl with LB.

After breakfast, we packed up and cleaned up. I'm happy to say I got all my kit into the Argonuat, with a little room to spare, which means I'm getting better at packing - though I did not have my tent, or expedition levels of food.

We took one more spin around the bay, again through channels, with some of us heading out to run along the channel, to the worry of our host. We're sea kayakers! We're meant to be in a bit of chop. The boat wake combined with the shallows made for a somewhat bouncy ride, but nothing terrible.

Anointed by the sun.

This was a great trip, and honestly something of a surprise. In the weeks leading up to it, I though, "boring sheltered flatwater", but it really wasn't. For one thing, the dramatic effect on shallows by the tide, changing the topography and creating unexpected eddies, was a surprise. For another, we had steady wind and a ton of fetch, which meant we had to do a little work and instruction on how to manage wind. The fabulous scenery and genuinely interesting ecology topped it all off.

Once we met up again, we finished lunch and then paddled back to where we put in, pulled out the boats and unpacked them, and said our goodbyes.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Pool Jam

I've been to two different pool programs lately, one operated by some acquaintances from the Yonker and DTBH programs, another through a friend who does whitewater with the AMC. With as much as ice as there has been cluttering the shores of the Hudson lately, I've welcomed the opportunity to really work out - and practice instruction - in a more hospitable venue.

There's a pretty common dynamic to pool programs. The first hour or so is pretty empty, as only the hardcore regulars are there on time, and help set up, and get in the water. Then the students and other neophytes come in, and the lead instructors peel off and give them all the time they need, standing in the pool, supervising wet exits, and so on. Then, as more students get to where they can noodle around on their own, the pool fills up, till it's a shifting seascape of boats and paddles.

Then, theres rolling. Everyone is rolling except the newbies. Pools are great for rolling practice, as the water is clean and clear, and you and your mates can really see what you're doing. Did the paddle dive, was it not in the right position? Was there no hip flick? And so on. I worked a bit on my "offside" - remember, there is no such thing as an offside - but also got in three in under a minute, which is practice for a particular long-term goal I have.

Pool programs tend to be less structured, ironically given how much goes into organizing them. I think this is because the ratio of instructors to students can vary widely and change on short notice. I'm of the opinion that most instruction, especially for newbies, really needs to occur in stages: one or two things and then practice, and next time, review, add one or two things, practice. Color me skeptical of being able to teach a someone everything in an hour and have them remember even half of it the next week.

I spent a fair amount of time practicing my hanging draw and some bracing turns, which are kinda ridiculous in whitewater boats. The extreme stability of the boat I was in allowed me to push my own mental limits. With one of the instructors, I really got low on my sculling brace, and that felt good. Now for warmer climes, when I can take my own boat out on the river and attempt the same.

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Fire Island Class

Well buckaroos, I wound up teaching a class out on Fire Island for the Appalachian Mountain Club. The AMC is an extensive organization - the New York/New Jersey chapter alone has 8000 members - that does all kinds of outdoorsy things. The group that runs their cabin out on Fire Island, near Bay Shore, had a notion to offer an introductory kayaking class, and their original instructors had to cancel at the last minute.


A mutual friend connected me with the organizers, and after some back and forth I agreed to go out Friday night, meet the students over dinner, teach Saturday, and lead a couple of short trips Sunday. In return I got free room and board - on Fire Island, not a bad deal.


My students, after a day of paddling.

The students were all novice kayakers. Some had a little experience on lakes, or in one case the East River (which is impressive), but no a lot of time. I started with the basics: torso rotation, turning in place, forward stroke, and so on, and by midday most of them were able to paddle around our little embayment in a proper figure-eight path.

In the afternoon, a few opted out to go do other activities - shop in town, relax on the beach, even sailing. It's hard to compete with sailing - the wind does all the work. However, for those who stayed, we went over bracing and rescues, and then a small number went out to circumnavigate East Fire Island with me.

Throughout the weekend our biggest challenge was a steady westerly wind that kept blowing us across the little bay we had. We'd practice, reset, practice, reset, and so on. I took everyone a little farther out to do the Raft Routine - a couple of tricks I learned from another coach to demonstrate rafting up, and the stability that comes in a rafted group.

Kayak Cowgirl giving instruction, probably "torso rotation".


I was fortunate to have a really good assistant, a member with some BCU and whitewater experience. Part of the time, I was also assisted by someone who knows the waters well. They were both great to work with, and to have available for helping shepherd the group.

Our trips were short. The wind pushed against us, so we only got about a mile each way. However, we were near proper traffic routes, and crossed in front of a marina, and so talked about how to read buoys and negotiate with traffic.

I got positive feedback overall, and that was all the sweeter for it being a group of complete strangers. If I were to do it again, with a little more noticed, I might organize it differently, but overall, this was a great chance to practice group management.