One Day of Kayaking: Two Different Perspectives

Posted by Krista Sadlers Oct 4, 2009

Men and women have different ways to do things. My husband and I kayak differently. While we both love the beautiful scenery and close-up glimpses of wildlife, his main objective is to fish. On the other hand, I aim to improve my technique and get a decent workout. And so begins our exploration of the Great Calusa Blueway during an awesome kid-free weekend.

Having been to Matlacha before, we returned to The Sun and Moon Inn, the perfect host for a weekend on the water. We sought to try some different launching spots nearby and garnered some information from a kayaking gallery exhibitor and maps from the local Chamber of Commerce. Just over the bridge, in Bokeelia, we launched across from the historic Calusa Indian mounds.

We traipsed back and forth at the muddy pull-off on Pineland Road, carrying the numerous items we would need for our afternoon adventure I clicked my paddle together, hooked in my seat, loaded the cooler into the back of my Hobie and began slathering the sunscreen, while I waited for my other half to prepare his kayak. He carried a crate of neatly organized plastic storage bins containing fishing lures of every imaginable shape, size and color. There were also more containers for hooks, weights, pliers, and measuring sticks. You name the fishing gadget, he has it. Everything had its proper place in the kayak. And finally, three, yes, three fishing rods.

Leaving the shore behind, we headed out into the Pine Island Sound Aquatic Preserve. In the distance several barrier islands beckoned, but first we needed to cross the channel. Luckily there were no boats to distract us, as they had probably left much earlier that morning. I fell into a rhythm, using long strokes and trying to perfect the proper twisting motion to work my abs and get more power to cover the distance. Matching my breathing to my paddling, I kept a steady pace and was soon mesmerized by the soft lull of the water and focused on the island about a mile out in front of us. On advice from the kayaker/artist, we were headed toward the opposite side of the island to find a beach area and what locals call “the nursery”, a sure spot to find young dolphin playing.

As he scooted quickly ahead of me, Chris encouraged me to follow him, changing my aim toward the center of island so he could fish along the mangroves in hopes of snagging the elusive snook. I paddled along the shore, feeling just a bit of a welcome breeze, concentrating on short, small strokes that alternated focus on the biceps and triceps. Dip, pull, lift. Dip, pull, lift. Behind me, I heard cast, splash, reel. Cast, splash, reel.

Rounding the tip of the island, we were entranced to find similar looking islands in every direction. Not seeing the beach area we were looking for, we decided to go out and search around the next one. I resumed my paddling/breathing rhythm and set out to put some speed into the next length.

Approaching the second island, we noticed the three fish houses on stilts out in the middle of the waterway. That would be a trip for another day, to fish beneath the docks, as the distance was great and we didn’t want to take our chances with Florida’s ever-looming prospect of an afternoon thunderstorm. On this day, however, the weather was certainly cooperating. The afternoon sunshine left the ripples covered with glitter.

Chris hugged the coastline happily casting and reeling once again, while I headed toward the other side of the island in hopes of finding the dolphins. I spotted a secluded bay with a beach-like area and headed into the cut to see if it would be a good place for a picnic. There was a post in the water about 4 feet in front of the shore. The sign was worn and faded. At first I wondered if it was another Blueway marker, but decided not to take my chances in trespassing. It seemed the only inhabitant of this part of the island was a fat, reddish raccoon slinking around for something to eat.

Floating in the gentle current I followed the inlet around its windy path, absorbing in the vivid images around me, and taking the opportunity to practice some of my yoga stretches since I had now been several hours in the kayak. The mullet were splashing. A sea turtle bobbed alongside me for a bit. Leggy white birds waded into the calm water. Other birds dried their wings in trees still leafless after several ravaging hurricanes passed through the area years ago. Finding neither beach nor nursery, and feeling ready to move again, I went to see if Chris caught anything.

After very few hits, he was ready to move on too. We went back into the bay area to spy on the raccoon and anchored together to enjoy some cheese and crackers and juicy ripe cantaloupe, cleverly resembling the bright orange life jackets. Popping open the ice cold Coke broke the splendid silence of the seas and tasted so refreshing. Refueled, we were now ready to journey back.

Although the storms held out for us that day, the wind picked up as we made our way back into the channel. The gentle ripples that lulled me on the way out were more like miniature white-capped mountains blocking me from going back in. Even as I paddled aggressively, my kayak became wind-cocked. With my hair whipping into my face, I tried to keep sight of our launch area all the while maintaining my strokes: left, left, left. The kayak would not budge into the direction I wanted to go, but I was certainly building up the muscles on my weaker side.

I tried some sweeping strokes to turn my bow out of the wind. In the process I caught a bit of a ride. My husband laughed at me.

“Are you trying to surf now?” he called out.

“Very funny. I can’t get this thing to go straight.”

“We need to get you a rudder.”

I had déjà vu. He told me that same thing last year when we got caught in a sudden squall. I think I need to remind him again once we are standing on firm land that I do indeed need to have a rudder.

I caught a few more waves and righted myself while Chris nearly managed to catch a bull shark. Unfortunately, he didn’t hook anything that day – I’m beginning to think I bring him bad luck!

We slid into shore and stood up as gracefully as possible. I was exhausted, but pleased with my workout. And neither one of us had a bit of guilt over the magnificent four course meal we enjoyed at Red’s that night.