De Zandmotor, Herring, and the Girl with the Pearl Earring

Last Wednesday was a day of all-things-Dutch. Again, no kayaking. But there is kayaking on the horizon, so stay tuned!

8am arrival in Den Hague, the next big city north of Delft and the official seat of government in the Netherlands (but not the capitol - that's Amsterdam). I obtained my official residence and work permit documents before we commenced the day's fun. We hopped on bus #24 towards Kijkduin (which literally means "Look Dune") - a small coastal town which seemed to be driven primarily by beach tourism. We hid in a postcard shop from a brief rain shower, during which Bridget purchased a variety of slightly inappropriate postcards: friends of Bridget: watch out.

Downtown Den Hague

We then began walking along the beach boardwalk toward the Zandmotor (known in English as the Sand Engine), an incredibly wide beach that protrudes from the adjacent shorelines. This was constructed in 2011 by placing a massive amount of sand along this 2 km stretch of coast. While beaches are often "nourished" by placing sand to widen the beach, this is unsual in the shear volume of sand that was placed. The beach erodes over time as breaking waves push sand downstream, widening beaches further down the coast. The idea was to place a lot of sand instantaneously and infrequently rather than more typical annual/frequent beach nourishment schemes, which have pretty big impacts on the dune, beach, and subtidal ecosystems. The Dutch believe this is better for the ecology and environmental impacts, and it's a pretty creative idea. You also don't have to manually place sand on all the beaches downstream since the sand eroded from this extra-wide beach will keep those wider. Since this is really the first of it's kind, there are extensive monitoring programs in place, with wave buoys, camera systems, and survey crews. I almost accepted a PhD position to study the waves and rip currents around this nourishment a couple years ago, so I was excited to visit it soon after arriving!

Map of our 5 mile walk around the Zandmotor. You can see how much wider the beach is at this location. There are two lagoon-ish ponded areas in the back of the dune, which apparently serve some function to protect groundwater quality, which isn't entirely clear to me...

The entire beach was strewn with small shells. I'm not sure whether these came with the sand that was placed on the beach (most likely?) or whether they were deposited there later on.

There were researchers out this morning measuring something in the surf zone.

The Argusmast. This tower holds multiple cameras, which are used for monitoring waves, shoreline erosion, number of beach visitors, and even for predicting where rip currents might occur, to keep swimmers safe.

Side view of the sand engine

When we returned to Den Hague, we tried out the local fare: raw herring fillet on white roll, smothered in onions. Never has anything smelled so fishy. Can't really endorse this one with much enthusiasm, though we did finish the entire sandwich.

Fast forward, and we're back in Delft for the evening. We've seen advertisements all around the city for $15 Girl with the Pearl Earring portraits (the painting by Vermeer, who lived in Delft). Bridget, Elizabeth, and I decided that we could do this ourselves, so with the help of some white wine, we managed to pull together this portrait in ~15 minutes. Thanks to Elizabeth for setting the black background *sheet*, Bridget for being an excellent photographer who held the camera still between excessive giggling, and both of you for getting that ridiculous head wrap to stay on my head :)

Easter Sunday on Estero Americano

At 8:20am on Easter morning, Alice and I simultaneously pulled into our favorite Park-N-Ride in San Rafael. We have a history of perfect timing - we're both 10 minutes early. We loaded White Lightning onto my car (next to Big Purple) and headed up the 101. Estero Americano flows into Bodega Bay, roughly 1.5 hrs from the Bay Area. The launch site is at the end of a dirt road that spurs off the intersection of Marsh Road and Valley Ford Franklin School Road. Another kayaker arrived shortly after us, and spent 20 minutes urging Alice and I to join a kayak racing club in Berkeley.

Parked at the launch site off Marsh Road

Estero Americano is fed by Americano Creek and forms the boundary of Marin County with Sonoma County. The Estero is not always deep enough to paddle - water levels can fluctuate significantly depending on flows in Americano Creek (rainfall), tide levels, and whether or not the lagoon is open or closed at the ocean. We weren't sure whether the lagoon was open, but I've been eyeing this paddle for over a year, so we took a risk and went for it! There is virtually no access by car or visibility from roads during the 6 miles trip between the launch site and the Pacific Ocean - the best way to see it is by kayak/canoe.

The trip begins as little more than a narrow muddy channel winding between flat dairy pastures. Thanks to some recent rain, the fields and hillsides were bright green. Curious cows approached the channel banks to grunt and say hello.

Nena meets cows. Photo by Alice Miller.

Alice checking out Whale's Tail rock

The channel widened after 2 miles amongst the cows. Adjacent hillsides rose, and salt marshes and mudflats replaced the pastures. The last couple miles were by far the most majestic, with steep green hillsides flanking the wide Estero. Alice and I both felt that we had been transported to New Zealand or another more dramatic landscape. A strong wind picked up along this stretch, increasing our sense of isolation as we paddled independently (conversation during windy kayaking quickly leads to sore throats).

And suddenly you're in New Zealand. Photo by Alice Miller.

We rounded the last bend around noon and were welcomed by our own private sandy beach. The mouth of the Estero was open, and the lagoon was still draining (much to our surprise - low tide was at 10am). We dragged our boats up onto the beach and went exploring. Alice walked to the south end of the beach, while I checked out the mouth and basked in the sun. 

Exploring the mouth of Estero Americano. Photo by Alice Miller.

The beach at Estero Americano, facing south

Alice taking pictures of the beach

The return trip passed quickly, and we met a cow carcass along the way. Alice was slightly traumatized, as Easter is supposed to be about rebirth rather than death. I guess that's what happens when you choose kayaking over Easter mass.

Cow carcass

Date: April 20, 2014
Time: ~5 hrs (including 1 hour of sunning on the beach)
Distance: 11 miles

Santa Barbara Harbor

A couple weeks ago my job brought me to Santa Barbara (~ 6 hours south of San Fran) to survey parts of Mission Creek and a beach lagoon. Naturally, I saw this as the perfect opportunity to have my gas mileage reimbursed and bring my kayak along, so I volunteered to drive. Wednesday was the first time I was able to get on the water since we worked a couple 13 hour days on Monday and Tuesday.

Not sure when I'll stop being amused by palm trees. They're just so tall and gangly looking!

Following advice from a local paddler, I started out at Ledbetter Beach, just upcoast of the Santa Barbara Harbor. I unloaded Big Purple and lugged it across the wide sandy beach to the high water line where I promptly seated myself and spent the next 20 minutes watching the intimidating waves crash uniformly on the beach. Not sure how to proceed, I made some wimpy phone calls to Dave/Morgan/Mike who told me to stop being a chicken and get in. 

Menacing waves at the breakwater.

While I didn't completely chicken-out, I ended up returning to the car and driving down-coast to the sheltered harbor, where I could avoid a solo surf launch. I scanned the boat names as I paddled down the aisles and realized that there are far fewer "joke" boat names here than in Upstate NY. Odd...

Sunset over Santa Barbara.

I paddled out into the ocean from the harbor and enjoyed bobbing up and down on the big swells, while avoiding the breakers. I landed on the little offshore sandbar (see map below) and watched the sun set over Santa Barbara for a while. It's such a cute little city. Apparently there are laws in place to ensure that it continues to feel like a little Spanish settlement with its red tiled roofs and missionary churches

(not) greeted by a seal on my way back to the dock

"A" Marks the launch spot in the harbor. The pier in the top left is Stearns Wharf.

I was a little bummed to have such a limited paddle in this beautiful SoCal city, but I'm sure I'll be back soon!

Date: Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Time: 1 hour
Distance: negligible

Seal Cove and around Bartlett Island (Mt. Desert Island Day #3)

Here is part 3 of 3 (Yes, the days are out of order, but I guess that's just going to be a trend in this blog), a guest post by Mary Kate Wheeler summarizing our third and final paddle on Mt. Desert Island in Maine. 

After a last minute decision to join Nena and Ben's MDI Expedition, I headed east from Warren, Vermont on Friday, arriving at the campsite just minutes after dinner ended. Fortunately my ever prepared companions dug up some leftovers and even an extra tent to make me feel well at home.

 Fisherman dinghies at the put-in.

Mist hovered along the coastline as we drove to our launching point on Saturday morning. After hearing a rumor of exceptionally friendly marine life off the western side of the island we chose to paddle out of Seal Cove. Although it seemed to be a popular spot for fishermen and motor boats, the cove provided a nicely sheltered place to launch kayaks.

 

 At the put-in, with Mary-Kate's self-made skin-on-frame kayak in the background.

Our goal of having close and personal encounters with marine mammals was quickly and unexpectedly met. Paddling among lobster buoys on our way out of the cove we spotted dark dorsal fins of several porpoise (at least we think they were porpoise – probably harbor porpoise) swimming in our general direction. We paddled towards the pod and waited, scanning the surface, until a pair came up almost underneath Nena's boat. Not too interested in paddlers, the porpoise continued on their course and we observed for a while before continuing on ours.

After leaving Seal Cove we turned north and paddled along the western shore of MDI, passing Hardwood Island to our west. We continued north past Folly Island and Pretty Marsh Harbor. By the time we entered Bartlett Narrows - the waterway separating Bartlett Island from the main island - the flood tide had created a strong current that carried us quickly to the northern end of Bartlett Island.

Knowing that we would be paddling against wind and current on our return trip, we still chose to paddle around the northern point of Bartlett Island and return on its more exposed western side. Although the paddling became more difficult our work paid off as we saw two harbor seal - one on the northern side of the island, and a second one near the island's southern point. 

 Mary Kate and Ben paddling next to Bartlett Island.

About half way down Bartlett Island we stopped for lunch at a gravely beach with a beautiful view of Blue Hill Bay. We timed our rest so we would be off the water while the flood tide current was at its peak. Still, the final part of our trip was a good challenging paddle, with wind, current, and some small but exciting waves off the island's points

We made one crossing, from the south point of Bartlett Island back to the western shore of MDI, and then retraced our path from the morning. On the way back into Seal Cove we sighted guillemots, small diving birds with amazingly red feet, close relatives of the puffin.

Date: July 18th, 2010
Distance: 17.6 miles

Our long day of paddling along the incredible Maine coastline was completely satisfying. Yet we somehow managed to fit in more adventures that evening, climbing the highest peak on the Atlantic Coast, Cadillac Mountain (by car) before indulging in a fresh seafood dinner at Head of the Harbor restaurant in Southwest Harbor. 

Not bad for a summer Saturday in Maine.

- Mary Kate

Adventures with Julia and Thundery Kayaking

Warning: This post is too long and I know it... I promise I'll try and keep it more concise from now on!

This weekend I met up with the lovely Julia Schoen in Portsmouth, NH for a weekend of sunny beaches and other adventures. But since this is a kayaking blog, I will cover that part first!

After Julia and I sadly parted ways (she's off to Brazil for a year), I was due to meet up with some kayakers from the NH AMC paddlers group at Odiorne Point State Park in Rye, NH. There were 5 of us in total. The tide (! that scary thing that doesn't exist where I come from) was really low when we put in, so the banks of the shore were SUPER muddy and I almost lost my chacos getting in. Normally I try to keep my feet dry when I'm getting in my boat (call me a wimp), but there really was no getting around it this time (and of course I couldn't seem like a wimp around these new peeps!).

Date: 6/20/10
Distance: ~4 miles


As we were first heading out, we heard some rumbling in the distance, but the trip leaders said it was from a nearby bridge. It was definitely thunder. But as usual, I figured these NH'ers knew what they were doing and followed blindly (do you see a theme? if not, read the previous post). We paddled along the beaches at the park and then cut across to circumnavigate Leachs Island. On the way over there we had to pass under a bridge that kind of constricted the water, and since the tide was coming back in we were flushed right through. As I was being rushed towards the bridge, it occurred to me that a couple of the bridge supports were closer together than the length of a sea kayak, and definitely would have made for some good strainers. I only realized this at the last moment and had to resort to a hasty yet somewhat effective side slip. Woohoo!

The way back through the bridge was a lot harder because the flow rate had increased and the downstream water was churning in all kinds of directions. I hopped in an eddy before ferrying across and paddling as hard as I could upstream to get back to the other side (COE whitewater class is highly recommended!) .

Once we were on the other side of the bridge the rain started coming down and the thunder picked up again. I was not so cool with that, and the end was in sight, so I paddled in as fast as possible. Just as I got my boat up onto my car there was a HUGE crack of thunder directly over our heads. I probably jumped 1.5 feet into the air and decided to make the trip home in my wet clothes. For some reason everyone else seemed less phased than me... maybe I should add thunderstorms to my list of fears (right after spiders), or maybe I just have a very conservative attitude towards kayaking in thunderstorms.

ANYWAYS, I made it home alive, only slightly dusted with dried salt water and frizzy hair. I miss my Rochester and Ithaca paddling buddies!

This is the part where you stop reading if you just care about kayaking (perfectly valid).

Rewinding now to Friday night. Julia and I both pulled into the parking lot of Shel-Al Campground (we think it's a contraction of the superbly sweet owners' names) exactly 2 hours later than planned. I managed to leave my tent in the backyard and only realize once I was halfway to the coast, and she locked her keys in the car and printed out the wrong directions. It worked out quite well!

There really aren't many places to camp along the NH coast (correct me if I'm wrong). Shel-Al was the only one within a reasonable driving distance of the coast, and it's mainly focused on trailers. But it worked out quite nicely since there were very few tent-ers there this weekend.

Both Friday and Saturday night we went into Portsmouth and explored. It's a really lovely city with a bunch of streets with *local* restaurants and shops. I'd love to return when my mother is in a shopping mood (is that terrible of me?). After making a stop on Newcastle Island (just had to do it. brown ale is just too good), we had dinner downtown at a little seafood restaurant with a very friendly waitress. After dinner we sat on a big rock by the ocean and listened to the waves.

On Newcastle Island:

On Saturday we drove up and down the coast (Route 1A, Ocean Blvd) multiple times, testing out Odiorne Point, Rye, Jenness, Hampton Beach. Julia made me get in the water, which was good because I'm a chicken when it comes to these (icy cold) things... While in search of a surf shop we discovered a delicious little cafe on 7th street in Hampton called KB Bagels. Highly recommended.


Saturday night we cooked couscous and black beans for dinner, and I took an ice-cold shower to dampen the terrible sunburn I managed to acquire. Around dusk we decided to make some hot drinks and the mosquitoes decided to join us. They came out in droves and we fled to the safety of the Volvo. We put the seats back, sipped our hot cocoa with Bailey's, listened to Jack Johnson, and watched our classy neighbors setting off fireworks (just for us of course). Magical.

The next morning we woke up to the 4am alarm and dragged ourselves back to the coast to watch the sunrise (5:03am). At first we were worried that it would hide behind the clouds, but around 5:30am it revealed it's cheery face. It was quite a relief since Julia would have hated me forever if it hadn't.


After another trip to KB's for some much needed coffee and a frigid swim (by Julia), we parted ways. Now you can scroll back to the top and start over! (This is the post that never ends... and it goes on and on....... sorry.)