I was deep into a cabinet building project, and had completed an important stage of the process on the previous and long workday. After an early morning eye care visit in town, I headed home to take care of other neglected tasks. At some point close to home I noticed the fabulous weather and contemplated another neglected activity – getting out on the water, paddling the creeks to Bulls Bay. Initially I dismissed this idea, having no plan, but then decided to shelve my to-do list. A quick look at a marine forecast app pointed to light winds and a low tide at 11 am, perfect conditions for a kayak trip.
Throwing the kayak and gear in my truck, I went to the landing and launched, finding plenty of water on the ramp. I paddled up the ICW briefly before heading into Venning Creek. Several snowbirds were motoring south, the parade toward warmer waters underway.
Out of the ICW, I chose the southern most channel of Venning, and was rewarded with the sound of dolphins exploding the water near the marsh. I grew into the rhythm of paddling toward the Bay, a light but steady northeast wind, slowing my progress. I noticed my deck had a layer of saw dust, accumulated from Skilsaw rough cutting, and this dust would gradually dissipate along with my brain’s project focus.
Around a creek bend the opening to the Bay appeared, encouraging each stroke. A boat was anchored in that creek mouth, and a group of pelicans were circling and plunge diving. Another boat was also anchored close to the point where I planned to round before running down the Bay to the southwest. The lone occupant was casting for shrimp, and as I drew closer the caster was my neighbor and friend Tom Powell. We spoke for a few minutes, and he reported his catches as “slim pickings”. I watched a cast, and the net showed off a few but quite large shrimp, to be “dinner” for him that night. Earlier, Tom was moving his outboard from his overhead lift to his trailer when on the spur of the moment he decided to head out to cast for shrimp. Spontaneity and the call of the water had both struck Tom and me.
Leaving Tom, I encountered the strong incoming current and confused chop at the creek mouth, providing a rough ride. I kept close to the Bay’s marsh edge, staying away from the exposed oyster flats. Seeing oystercatchers on some of these bars, I paddled down toward them, and pulled out my camera from its water bag. The light chop in the Bay, combined with juggling of camera and paddle, made this task challenging. A single oystercatcher appeared as a subject, and floating down toward the bird I managed several photos before it took flight. I abandoned the idea of taking more photos due to the lively Bay waters, and replaced the camera in its protective bag.
A few weeks ago I went out to the landing at sunset to catch the full moon rise over the marshes of Bulls Bay, and to view the comet. Waiting for both, the sound of whistling came across the ICW, and on a mud flat gathered a flock of oystercatchers, perhaps a hundred and fifty. With the rising tide the mud flat was small, and the birds nestled together. The sight rivaled what was to come that evening.
I was not hopeful about getting a good photo of this oystercatcher, and was disappointed when viewing the image later: the bird was out of focus. However, I could discern that the bird had not one but two green bands on its upper legs. A group called the American Oystercatcher Working Group (AMOY) had banded this bird in coastal North Carolina. This was interesting but frustrating because the lack of focus did not allow identification of the codes printed on those bands. The kayak in the Bay chop was not a good platform for this photography. (Hesitant to share this flawed photo except for those bands).
Continuing to the southwest, I contemplating stopping off for a landing on a shell rake in the marsh. The chop was small, but there were still little waves coming into that shell covered “beach”, and I vacillated on making a landing as I drew closer but threw caution aside. These shell rakes are nesting habitat for oystercatchers, but with the nesting season over it was safe to land here. The shells were piled up in a relatively high elevation, backed up by the salt marsh behind. To the south was another microhabitat, a salt flat. The views were spectacular through 360 degrees.
I made a decent launch out through the light chop without getting too wet, though being in the 80’s, it was not an issue. My course left the Bay chop hitting my port side. I had recently asked Ian Sanchez, an experienced paddler, when he uses a spray skirt. He replied that he always paddles with one. The utility of one, even in this light chop, became apparent when one wave splashed me and into the cockpit, and reinforced my decision to put the camera away.
I finally rounded into the entrance to Andersonville Creek, leaving the Bay’s chop behind and joining with the incoming tide. This entrance appeared different, particularly the point I rounded. It was underwater – I learned later that I was off in my tide predictions by two hours. How? Well, my tide predictions on that app were calculated by a location on that map that I had apparently moved by accident. So operator error, and humbled again.
Coming off the Bay the creek was quite wide in contrast to Venning, and there was no danger of being splashed here. Dolphin exhalation sounded behind me before loud splashing along the marsh. The paddle with the tide brought me to the ICW, and the sight of a snowbird under large head sail charging down the waterway. The white tail and head of an eagle, soaring high over the landing, reflected that white sail.
🙂 LOVED the beautiful sunset shot and like you, I wish the AMOY shot was sharper.. Nice trip though and enjoyed your commentary. G
Will get after some more oystercatcher photos. But not sunset, moonrise in October. It would be scary if sunset over Bulls Bay marsh looking east.
I enjoyed reading about your paddle! I’ve made the same mistake with the tide – both on the plus and minus.
I have to get out – looking longingly at my kayak suspended in the garage.
Mary Lou from Bay Shore
Unless you are waiting for winter paddling, get out there soon
So enjoyed your post and photos. Especially appreciate the spontaneity and being able to switch gears and put projects on hold to enjoy the beauty around us!
Switching gears is not always possible, but this day was a good reminder of that need.
Your posts always inspire me to get “out there” more. And I can relate to the dust dissipation/ brain project lines. As you know, when we give Nature our full attention, we’re open to the wonder.
Thanks Bob.
Seeing those oystercatcher flocks and hearing their whistling calls, like this morning, brings on the wonder.
Thank you, Bob!
Yes i saw those oystercatchers with you, and the comet! What a great evening of wonder!
Oh yeah!
What a wonderful fall excursion!
Oh it was, but fall still holding off a bit with some more 80 degree weather.
Thanks Bob I felt I was there with you!
Grab yourself a kayak.
You know how to find Awe everywhere you go!
Glad to be your friend, Dana🦋
It is all around, isn’t it?