Georgia Coast, November 16, 2002
by Steve Cramer
I did manage to get out a little bit on Saturday on my trip to Tybee
Island, in spite of the weather forecast. I put in at the Back River
boat ramp, which is a misnomer now, since the paved part ends about 5'
above the water at high tide. Anyone who tries to back a boat down that
sand better have serious 4WD and some knobby tires. The weather was
cloudy and warm. I was wearing a long-sleeved poly shirt and added a
breathable nylon shell over it, because I knew I'd get rained on at some
point.
Into the water and across the river toward Little Tybee Island. The tide
was in the last 1 1/2 hours of ebb, so the sand banks were coming out. In
the boneyard at the northern side of Myrtle Island (the NE corner of
Little Tybee) a group of cormorants was hanging out on a skeletal tree.
The whole scene was backlit by the low grey clouds, so they showed up as
stark silhouettes. The Georgia Coast never has pretty water inshore,
since it drains the marsh over sand and mud bottoms. Total overcast
above, brownish greyish water below. An now it's starting to spit rain.
Lovely day for a paddle.
Coming out of the river mouth and into the ocean and bending south to
paddle across the front of Myrtle, I felt the wind on my back out of the
north blowing straight down along the coast. There was the usual bunch
of breaking waves offshore on the sandbar, which merged into the beach
break so that the only way to head down the coast was to go way out into
the ocean or paddle through the white stuff taking waves on the left
side.
Always one to take the shortest route, I headed into the waves. They
weren't very big, but since it was a dark and stormy (well, predicted to
be) day and I was alone and it had started to rain, I decided not to
push it too much, and tried to quarter them as much as possible rather
than relying on an edge and a brace. After playing a while, I surfed
onto the beach for a pee break. I contemplated heading on south, but the
wind was picking up and I wasn't keen on paddling back into it, so I
punched back out into the waves, surfed some more, then headed back for
the estuary.
In the distance I could see a sandbar about to uncover, with waves
breaking over it and also refracting around to hit from the side. Can
you say clapotis? I changed course to paddle into the heart of it, and
hung out for a while in the confusion. The waves were surprisingly
gentle, which is nice when they're breaking over your bow and shoulder
at the same time.
After a while I realized that the wind was no longer from the north. It
was no stronger, but it was now coming from the southeast. I wasn't sure
where the front was, but it's usually a sign when the wind swings around
like that, so I thought I'd mosey on.
Until I got to the entrance to Jack's Cut, a creek draining the
interior of Little Tybee. The local outfitter (Sea Kayak Georgia) had
told me that there probably wouldn't be enough water to get in, but
there was, so I had to explore a little. The creek entrance was heavily
silted with sand, but there was a narrow channel. Once past that, there
was a lot more room.
Paddling twisty creeks is one of my favorite things. It's cool to just
keep a gentle forward stroke going and steer with boat heels. As the
creek got narrower, my heels got more pronounced. Hmm, egret ahead to
the left, heron to the right. Relax, guys, and let me drift on past.
The GPS (Magellan Meridian Marine) knew all of the creeks down around
Bluffton, but it's clueless here. Just a $300 compass. Oh, and it's also
dropping electronic breadcrumbs in case I get confused on the way out.
Nice sandbar here coming up on the right, with a feeder creek alongside.
Let's take a break and practice with the cast net. I've been trying to
learn to throw this thing, but so far it's one good round toss out of
five. Martin does it really well; I should have paid more attention to
what he was doing. But, Hey! Look! There are some shrimp in the net.
Well, OK, two shrimp. So if I kept this up for an hour, I'd have dinner
for one. And a hell of a sore shoulder.
Back out of the creek now, and the crossing to the boat ramp. Tide is an
hour past dead low, so it's still pretty slack. As I lined up on the
house beside the boat ramp I saw a fin out in the river. Doll fin. As I
watched, I heard a "Pooosh!" off to the right. Two more dolphins heading
up the river, surfacing in tandem. I subtly altered course a little to
stay with them, and then stopped paddling when I figured I was in their
track. "Poosh! Poosh!" Fifty feet out and closing. Then "Poosh-Poosh!"
as they surfaced a paddle length off my beam, glanced at me, and swam on
under my kayak. Cool.
I was just barely off the water and loaded up when the rain started in
earnest. Lovely day on the water.
