Driven by a need to do something meaningful with a weekend, and of course, a curiosity for the unknown, I set out on the first two solo kayak trips. The first of these went under US-1 and into the shallow flats to the north, as a test run. The second trip went all the way past Abba Zabba and closer to the mouth of Sammy's Creek, over halfway to the open ocean.
The current and wind were against me for the entire trip out, so I didn't take photos till I had turned around and began the return trip, since the more conducive current made it easier for me to not paddle for the necessary few seconds.
It wasn't merely the first solo trip, however. It was also the first photo-documented one, and the first to have cell-phone coverage. I talked to Grace a couple times.
Mostly it is a wide-open expanse of water and mangroves, and very few other humans.
The island that I live on is up there, but it's pretty far off. Here's my foot.
Intrepid captain self-portraits as he continues fearlessly.
A combination of recently-full moon and lunar perigee have made the tides rather high lately. This is the venerable Abba Zabba, but I did not stop because it is mostly flooded.
Approaching southeastern Bay Point. I'll be home within half an hour or so.
Again with the foot. The water's very deep here and the boat rolls a bit. Sometimes I lean pretty far over the side to help make sharp turns. I can't believe how far over you can go without tipping this boat. Someday I'll find out the hard way.
Almost back home. You can see The Old Bridge (with arched supports), now used as a bike trail, running parallel to US-1.
A long, hard, and introspective voyage. A proof of concept. A boost for a fading sun-tan. A Sunday afternoon.
My arm feels like it's going to fall off, and I still need it to lift refreshments to my gullet. This is where I stop. Take it easy.
-Chris