Moon Snails, Loons, Seals, Sea Stars, and Fish Heads: Tomales Bay Never Disappoints.

Starved of salt water and kayaks longer than 10 ft, Colorado Jeff flew to San Francisco for a weekend of bingeyaking (my second favorite verb, after sponyaking). The bingeyaking was certainly not spontaneous, as we spent two weeks planning our routes and finding ways to squeeze as many miles into one weekend as possible.

Friday evening logistical madness (read this in fast-forward):

(1) Nena picks up foam blocks at undisclosed location in Oakland.

(2) Nena picks up Jeff from train station.

(3) Nena and Jeff visit Doug to deliver unlucky (I had no idea) lava rock from Hawaii and pick up kayaking gear that Doug generously let Jeff borrow for the weekend. 

(4) Doug gives Nena and Jeff final clue in the pre-kayak-logistics-scavenger-hunt: address of missing sea kayak.

(5) Nena and Jeff drive across Oakland to sketchily retrieve Orange Crush at other undisclosed location.

(6) Nena and Jeff purchase fruits and veggies for the whole weekend. 

(7) Nena and Jeff have a quick dinner at purple-noodle-place (I can't remember the name) and soon return to the Glen House for a brief night's sleep.

(8) Nena wakes up and makes homemade hummus. (Or did that happen at night? it's a blur)

Jeff and I packing up the car in rainy Berkeley on Saturday morning.

Okay that's enough of the 3rd person. We had planned to paddle Estero Americano (i.e. Americano Creek) from Valley Ford Road to its confluence at Bodega Bay. Unfortunately, the weather forecast was looking pprreeettyyy miserable for Saturday, with heavy rains guaranteeing that the mouth of the creek would be open (flowing directly into the ocean instead of ponding behind the beach). The tides and creek current would both be against us on the 6-mile return trip, and we worried we might never return. We reassessed on Saturday morning and ended up a bit further south, on Tomales Bay. 

Nick's Cove. Photo taken from the launch dock. $5 Parking

We arrived at Nick's Cove around 11am on Saturday morning (a leisurely start, to let the rain pass by). While it wasn't raining, the sky was grey and we had the launch site completely to ourselves. Nick's Cove is a remote little tourist destination with a restaurant serving locally-caught fish and cottages right on the water. The whole places is owned by one person, but the boat launch is public.  I've paddled on Tomales a couple times, but always starting from points much further south, so I was excited to check out the north end of the Bay. We paid $5 for parking, launched from the well-kept dock, and headed north. We hugged the east shore and explored the little bays and inlets as we made our way towards the mouth of Tomales Bay. Along the way we found some treasures, like this massive, perfectly-severed fish head. 10 points for the person who can tell me what kind of fish this is!

Monster fish head on the beach. No eyeballs left.

As we rounded Tom's Point, we encountered some beautiful windswept sand dunes. We spent a while between Tom's Point and Sand Point to take pictures of dunes and loons and seals and tule elk (er... cows):

Fuzzy sand dune

Huge sand dunes near Lawson's Landing

A loon! We were surprised to see one in the salt water.

Seals glaring.

Jeff saying "Hi Seals! Happy you're not sharks!"

Nena saying "Hi Cows! Sad you're not Tule Elk!"

We finally peeled ourselves away from the mammals and birds and paddled up to Sand Point, which marks one of the narrowest parts of Tomales Bay. The tide was going out rapidly, and we found ourselves riding the tide towards the mouth of the Bay (and the Pacific Ocean). Ocean waves propagate into the Bay, and with the ebbing tide this made for some tumultuous conditions. The tide was trying to escape and the waves were trying to enter, leaving churning/confused standing waves. We were later informed that this is prime breeding ground for great white sharks. Jeff went and played in the waves while I swiftly crossed the bay and searched for a lunch spot.

Jeff playing in the standing waves at the mouth of Tomales Bay

We realized the tide was ebbing at the same speed we were paddling, so after ~20 minutes of a kayak treadmill workout we decided to pull over for lunch and wait for the current to slow. While snacking on hummus, pita, cucumber, tomatoes, carrots, and fruit, we watched fisherman zip back and forth in little motorboats, emptying traps filled with massive crabs and other critters. Eventually, we returned to the tide treadmill and made it to a wider part of the bay, where the currents slowed. Here we took a few minutes to star gaze:

Red star fish! We also saw sea urchins and anemones.

We stopped briefly to look at these marvelous white cliffs, which offer many caves for exploring during low tide.

Jeff in cave

We stopped at Hog Island (also described in this awesome trip) in the middle of the Bay. One side of the island was carpeted with sea lions, so we gave them some space and instead found some MASSIVE snails, also known as Moon Snails. These snails are predatory, attacking most other shelled mollusks, including fellow moon snails! They envelope their prey and then bore through the shell, sucking out the insides. If I had known this before, I probably would not have put it on Big Purple... This one glommed right onto my boat:

Moon snail!

When we returned to Nick's Cove, we walked to a little shack at the end of the wharf. Smoke curled out of the chimney from a wood stove inside. The shack was humble (I guess most are...), with one large wooden table and some nautical decorations. The phone on the wall is used to order take-out from the restaurant onshore. I'll be back!

Date: April 29, 2014
Time: ~4.5 hours?
Distance: 11 miles

Escape from San Quentin to Red Rock

Alice and I made reasonably spontaneous plans to paddle yesterday (no cancellations and only planned 2 days in advance - that's real progress). Since we were both tired of driving, we decided to meet in the middle, at San Quentin. Yes, San Quentin State Prison. There's an easy launch spot called Jailhouse Beach that's sheltered by the prison on one side and by the Richmond bridge on the other. There are only a few parking spots along the side of the road, but we had no trouble. It's 1-hour parking, but in Alice's last 3 visits she hasn't gotten a parking ticket. Shhhh!

Alice excited for a night on the water

We met at 4pm but chatted away 30 minutes because we both had some big life updates. At 4:30 we brought my boat (Big Purple always goes first since she's quite heavy - it's all muscle) and set it on the wide, flat beach. The waves were calm, so we set her down and headed back up the stairs. We scampered back with Alice's little boat a few minutes later to a scene of confusion on the beach. Big purple was gleefully slipping down the beach, filling with wave after wave of water. Some dog walkers were frantically grabbing at deck lines and toggles, trying to drag the increasingly heavy boat up the beach.

Landed at Red Rock

For a moment I considered abandoning ship [kayak] and fleeing in embarrassment. Instead I ran up, claimed my novice mistake, and wrestled her to safety. I sheepishly put on my drenched, sandy sprayskirt and PFD. Never leave your boat on wet sand, even if only for 3 minutes!

Embarrassing situation complete, we spent the typical 10 minutes trying to seal Alice's cheap hatch cover and finally launched into the little waves - much to the amusement of our canine audience.

We paddled east along the south side of the Richmond Bridge. Never have I felt less confident about the bridge's ability to withstand an earthquake. It looks like something I would have built with tinker toys at age 10: as tall as possible without much regard for strength. According to Wikipedia, the bridge was built in 1956 and retrofitted between 2001 and 2005 to withstand a 7.5 magnitude earthquake on the Hayward Fault and 8.3 on the San Andreas Fault. [I also read that the third lane of the bridge was used to pump water to Marin in 1977, during one of its worst droughts in history!] Anyways, I haven't paddled along a major highway before so the possibility of a car flying off the road and land 200 feet below was new and exciting. The roar of the traffic made it hard to chat though.

We arrived at Red Rock about an hour later. Red Rock is a completely undeveloped island in the middle of the Bay - and the only privately owned one. Apparently it used to be mined for manganese. It was purchased in 1964 for $50K and is now for sale for $5M (no one wants to pay buy it). Based on this interview, the owner thinks it's a very ugly island. We spent some time exploring and taking pictures, and I disagree. Alice made it 90% around before she reached an impassible headland. The boundaries of 3 counties converge on this rock, so Alice was in Contra Costa, Marin, and San Francisco Counties in the span of a few minutes.

The shores of Red Rock

Red Rock in the background

On the way back we managed to avoid a ferry and monstrous shipping barge. I probably wouldn't choose this paddle again any time soon because it requires passing one of the two main shipping channels in SF Bay, and big boats have little regard for kayakers. Sunday was a good choice since there was very little boat traffic.

Returning to San Quentin at Sunset.

The wind had picked up on our return, and the current was still drawing us towards the bridge. I'm quite sore as I write this post, but excited to be using kayaking muscles again :). We aimed for San Quentin, arriving just as the sun was setting behind Mount Tam. When we realized the guards in the towers were watching us paddle along the prison seawall, we tried to look less sketchy by taking off our sunglasses.

I leave you with some fun facts about San Quentin that distracted me from finishing this post last night:

Fun facts about San Quentin:
- Oldest prison in CA (1852), all men
- California's only death row: 700+ men on death row. Largest in western hemisphere.
- Apparently it has hosted concerts for the prisoners (Johnny Cash, B.B. King, Metallica)
- It is currently at 137% of capacity

Sun hiding behind Mount Tam. Guard tower watching us closely

San Quentin State Prison

Just escaped from San Quentin! Paddle fast!

Date: Sunday March 23rd, 2014
Time: ~ 2.5 hours
Distance: ~ 7 miles

Had to go with the old USGS map because it labels San Quentin so prominently!

Kayak Polo: A Lesson in Clumsy

I've always loved the graceful aspects of kayaking: wake-less drifting, a perfectly-carved turn, an effortless roll, a silent lake. Kayak polo throws elegance out the window in favor of aggression, throwing, tackling, and yelling. But it's different, it's fun, and I'm hoping to stick with it.

A few weeks ago I stumbled across a Berkeley Kayak Polo Meet-up group. Okay, I didn't stumble - Google is just good at advertising. It seemed too good to be true: young kayakers, $5, all gear included (makes logistics much simpler), 10 minutes from my apartment (a rarity in this crowded/spread out Bay), and not already filled to capacity (also unusual for outdoorsy meet-up groups). The sessions are run by the Bay Area Kayak Polo Club (BAKPC) and meet at the Berkeley Marina, in this sheltered area:

The playing field. The goals are the tall floating structures on either end.

Kayak Polo (also called Canoe Polo, which confuses me very much and can be blamed on the British) is a young sport, with the first world championship taking place in 2009. The game is like most polo sports: two opposing teams try to throw a ball into a net on either end of a swimming pool or open water area (in this case, the Berkeley Marina). It's most popular/competitive in Europe. Interestingly enough, the meet-ups have been attended by an international crowd: a French couple, a Belgian guy (see Stijn in previous Berkeley kayaking post), a British guy, a Ukrainian guy and his daughter, and other accents I didn't recognize.

The beginner practice starts at 8:30 am and ends around 10:30, when the advanced game begins. There's really no better way to wake up at 9am on a Sunday morning than to roll your kayak in the frigid Bay waters! It's better than coffee.

The meeting spot.

Since I already know how to paddle and roll, the hardest part is throwing the ball (soccer-ball-sized). Since your lower body is fixed in the boat, all momentum must come from torso rotation, arms, and wrists. My initial attempts have been pitiful. You also have to make sure your boat is pointed in the direction of the throw, or else it's almost impossible to throw it more than 4 feet.  If you want to turn your boat while in possession of the ball, you "chicken wing," which involves holding the ball under your elbow while attempting to turn the boat with your paddle. It's all very messy and awkward because you only have 5 seconds before losing possession. An alternative is to dribble the ball, which involves tossing it few feet ahead of the boat (out of arms reach), taking a few quick paddle strokes, picking it up, and tossing it ahead again (repeat...).  Once competition increases, tackling (pushing someone over) becomes permitted. I haven't mentioned this yet, but everyone wears a helmet with a metal face guard - a necessity with all the paddle flailing and collisions.

Anyways, I hope to keep attending when I can (practice only happens every other weekend), and accepting the fact that it's going to take some real work to get good at this kind of kayaking! My friend Jeff (see previous Colorado post) will be visiting during the next practice, and he's much better in a whitewater boat so I'm sure everyone will be impressed!

"Wringing" the New Year with the King Tides

[This post has been in draft form for 1.5 months, so I figured it was time to accept its imperfections and wrap it up. Lindsey, my fellow king-tide tour-guide also wrote a post, available here]

Choose inundation over inebriation** and celebrate King Tides because it's much more exciting than celebrating the New Year. Why? [Thanks to Lindsey for helping brainstorm this list]

1. The party don't stop: They happen for 3 days, so you can "Cheers!" and wish everyone a HAPPY KING TIDE at least 3 times. And since they happen in different places at different times, you can chase the tide and have that exciting moment multiple times in a day.
2. The party don't stop #2: Another good reason to drink at the Embarcadero 
3. Play; Splashing in puddles an getting hit by waves in normally dry places.
4. Excitement: Fleeing men in golf carts
5. See the future: See what the world will look like every day with sea level rise. 
6. And, because this is a kayaking blog... Expanded kayaking territory. As the water rises, it moves into nearby low-lying areas that are not normally wet, creating new spaces for kayakers to explore. 

** A wonderful expression coined by James Jackson

What are King Tides?
King Tides are the most extreme astronomical* tides that occur every year. A couple times per year, the earth, moon, and sun align in a way that creates the largest tide range. These days it's common for people to compare King Tides to sea level rise. The high tides that we see during the 2013 King Tides will likely happen on a daily basis in ~50 years (and the future King Tides would be even higher!). This year I decided to visit the coast during the King Tides so I could get a sense of what sea level rise might look like (on a good day, without storms).

* Sometimes non-astronomical forces, like weather/waves/storm, can raise tide levels for short periods of time. These changes are less predictable, while King Tides are regular and predictable.

Lindsey, Doug, James, and Barry were my tide-buddies for this year's celebration.

King Tides at the San Francisco Embarcadero (12/31/2013)
On the morning of New Years Eve Lindsey and I snuck out of the office and walked a half mile to the Embarcadero waterfront in San Francisco. The king tide was scheduled for 9:48 am (a 7.07 foot tide). We went to Pier 14, between the Ferry Building and the Bay Bridge, where the King Tides have flooded the Embarcadero in the past. Here are some photos:

Stairwell flooded, and waves breaking onto the sidewalk.

A video of waves lapping over the Embarcadero:

We (Lindsey, Barry, and I) also returned later at the very lowest tide of the day (during King Tides, the lowest tides get very low, so it's a great time to go tide-pooling!). We ran into one of Barry's friends who promptly offered me and Lindsey a ride on his bike-taxi to the Embarcadero. We celebrated the low tide with a six pack of beers, and cheers-ed! at 4:42 pm, when the tide hit -1.35 feet. Here's one of many low-high comparison photos we took:

Extreme low tide:

Extreme high tide:

And the view of San Francisco at sunset wasn't so bad either:

King Tides at Beach Boulevard in Pacifica, CA (1/1/2014)
The next day, Lindsey and I picked up James and Doug for our first King Tide tour of 2014. Our first stop was Beach Boulevard, CA. We also decided to form a band called the King Tide Kids. Cover album:

The crew: James, Doug, Lindsey, and Nena

No beach at high tide, with waves crashing on the massive revetment

We watched a group of kids standing at the edge of the railing daring each other to stay when big waves crashed over the seawall. 

Big waves rolling under the Beach Boulevard Pier

King Tides in Redwood City (1/1/2014)

Our final stops were in Redwood City, where we discovered a dock completely bent out of shape by the extreme high tide:

We (ok, I) decided to jump this fence to get a better view of the Bay at the end of the levee. Minutes later a small golf cart came bumbling along, catching up with us when we finally reached the view point. Two very angry men questioned us: "What was going through your mind when you walked past the 'No Trespassing' sign?" Thankfully Lindsey and Doug fielded the questions while I carefully avoided eye contact.

To learn more, and see much more dramatic photos, check out the California King Tides Initiative!

Berkeley Marina to Brooks Island (+ too much mexican food)

Alice, Stijn, Johnny, and I met at the Berkeley Marina at 9am for a very "unplanned/casual" paddle. I use quotes because it took us a week of rapid-fire emails and changing plans to reach this point. Most of us (except Johnny) had abandoned our boats for far too long. For most of us, this was our first sea kayaking trip out of Berkeley. We launched from the docks near Cal Adventures on the south side of the marina. The parking is free and the launch works well at most tide levels. 

Johnny and Alice packing up boats.

We headed north, swinging wide and staying pretty far offshore. We had no destination, but eventually headed towards Brooks Island (previously Isla de Carmen, Rocky Island, Bird Island, and Sheep Island!). The island has a long history - first settled by the Ohlone Indians, later used for grazing/oyster harvesting/quarrying, and finally acquired by the East Bay Regional Park District in 1968 and converted to a preserve. Today it is a bird sanctuary - no landing allowed.

Johnny, Alice, and I at Bird Rock. Photo by Stijn Schiffeleers. 

Shameless selfie, included because that's Brooks Island in the background.

Hazy San Francisco in the background, cormorants in the front. Photo by Stijn Schiffeleers.

The paddle was casual to say the least. We thought we could paddle around the Island but realized a long breakwater nearly doubled the length of paddling (see map below). Another reason why planning can sometimes be a good idea. Alice, always the rebel (and having drank too much water), did a bit of island exploring by foot. On the way back the wind picked up a bit, and we were joined by a number of sailboats near the marina. Stijn and I bonded over our mutual love for the Belgian band K3. The Berkeley Pier looks much cooler from below: the piers extending infinitely in both directions like a room of mirrors. 

Stijn hiding behind a pile at the Berkeley Pier.

Date: Sunday February 23rd, 2014
Time: ~ hours
Distance: ~ 10.5 miles

Upon returning to shore we shared a bottle of Wyder's Pear Cider and caravanned to the nearest mexican restaurant where we were shocked by the monstrous portions and promptly found ourselves in a food coma. Up next, the Cal100! I think we have a lot more training to go...

Alice and the monster burrito we should have shared....

Bikes and Hikes in Colorado (Jeff's story)

My friend Jeff Buchman (we go way back - to being aspiring kayak bums at BayCreek 10+ years ago!) describes a short weekend in November when I visited Colorado, where he lives. 

[Nena's comments in italics.]

Saturday, November 16th:

Nena arrived in Denver around 10:00 and we immediately headed up to Fort Collins with two bikes on the car for brunch and brewery tours. We decided to have brunch at Snooze, a local chain that specializes in creative and delicious breakfast and lunch foods. Since there was a 20 minute wait and Nena was hungry from her flight we wandered down to the food co-op and got some wasabi peas as an appetizer [I'm going through a meaaan wasabi kick lately]. On the way back to Snooze we also decided that stopping at the candy store would be a good way to balance out the spice of the peas. Once seated we did order actual food with Nena opting for the Late Harvest Benny (Wilted Swiss chard, fennel and leeks served atop goat cheese and herb polenta cakes with poached Niman Ranch eggs, cream cheese hollandaise and toasted pine nut crumb) and I went for the traditional corned beef hash. Breakfast over, we went to Brian and Emily’s house where we met their chickens and fed them from our hands, with mixed results. [It stabbed me!!]

We headed out on the bikes to visit a few of the dozen or so breweries scattered across Fort Collins. The first stop is the best know: New Belgium Brewery. While we were not able to take the tour (reservations have to be made well in advance), we enjoyed the tasting room and tried a wide variety of beers. The two most interesting ones we sampled were the coconut curry beer that tastes more strongly of Indian food than I ever expected and the sour beer, which I actually like but have been told is an acquired taste [grossss]. When we went back to the bikes to head over to the Odell Brewery we discovered that Nena’s bike fell victim to a goat’s head thorn which has flattened at least eight of my bike tires since moving here [bikes always seem to break the first time I ride them... hmm...]. Brian returned home to fetch the car while Nena, Emily, and I walked our bikes the short distance to Odell’s. We sipped beers on the patio until it started to get too chilly. We crammed two bikes and 4 people into Brian's Subaru Forester and headed home for some amazing home-cooked vegetable enchiladas a la Brian and Emily.

Brian, Emily, Nena, and Jeff posing for a cheesy tourist photo :)

Sunday, November 17th:
It was a brisk yet sunny fall day in Boulder when Nena, Brian, Emily, Katrina the dog, and I decided to go climb a mountain and see some snow because we are in Colorado and that’s what you do. The first hike we tackled was Green Mountain West Ridge Trail starting at Flagstaff Road. We weren’t sure we would be able to do this hike since Flagstaff Road was seriously damaged in the massive September floods, but luckily it had opened up the day before. While the hike is relatively short (2.5 miles, round trip), it has a considerable amount of vertical gain and a starting elevation of about 7,000 feet higher than Nena’s typical 0-30 feet above sea level [subtly telling my I'm out of shape.]. The hike starts on a fairly narrow section of trail, meandering along a ridge through pine forests dusted in snow (the ski resorts 1.5 hours west got 17” of snow that day). The climb begins with the trail pitching up sharply for 375 feet in about ¼ of a mile with some small scrambles and roughhewn stairs along the way. The top of Green Mountain was breezy, but protection from the rocks allowed us to sit and admire the view of Colorado’s Front Range [Colorado is so pretty!]. Being an out and back trail, the return to the car was eerily similar but much more down than up. Back at the car, we enjoyed avocado and drunken cheese sandwiches before heading on to the second hike of the day.

Only a few miles down the road, in the Walker Ranch Open Space overlooking Eldorado Canyon, our second hike featured more wind and less climbing. We decided to keep this hike a bit shorter, at 1.7 miles, as the loop trail is 10 miles and the snow/mud mixture made hiking into the creek bed a bit slippery. Katrina, the suburban dog, faced the frequent mountain bikers with curiosity and fear. We were able to see a train slowing climbing Eldorado Canyon to the continental divide about 30 miles to the west. With sunset approaching, and a persistent wind, we decided it was time to head back to Boulder. [Brrrrrr]

Total Distance Hiked: 4.2 miles

- Jeff Buchman

Dinoflagellate discoveries, sponsored by Bud Light Lime

Today I'm digging into the archives to recount my first true overnight kayak camping trip in California (sad, I know). Beth, Sara, Eddie, Joel, Christina, Brian, Alice, and I camped overnight at Tomales Beach in Tomales Bay. Dane + 2 friends joined us for the Saturday paddle and lunch.

Sponsored by Bud Light Lime.

A few of us hiked up the access road for some wonderful views of the Bay.

Tomales Beach from above. Photo © 2013 Joël Thai

Dinner of sauteed veggies and short ribs. Photo © 2013 Joël Thai

After a delicious dinner of sauteed veggies and Korean short ribs (great suggestion by Christina), a group of us embarked on a sunset paddle. We promised Christina and Brian that we'd be back in an hour and headed north. It was a cool evening, but the breeze had calmed down (Tomales Bay tends to be very windy in the afternoons). We set our sights on Hog Island, about 1.8 miles north of Tomales Beach. Along the way, Eddie (fellow hydrologist) and I noticed a drop in the water surface and a narrow band of turbulence spanning the Bay. We decided that this was caused by a slight narrowing of the Bay and the outgoing tide. This USGS map shows that this spot, known as Pelican Point, is about 30 meters deeper than the surrounding areas.

Approaching Hog Island at dusk. Photo © 2013 Joël Thai

30 minutes later we were still quite far from Hog Island, and dusk was setting in. After a long discussion we decided to continue on, magnetized by the eerie island in the distance. Upon closer inspection, the trees were densely populated by a colony of cormorants and painted white with a thick layer of bird poop. With darkness setting in, the rustling birds and sparse vegetation made the island feel quite spooky.

Cormorants in the tree on Hog Island. Photo © 2013 Joël Thai. Did you know that Hog Island was purchased for $800 in 1906 when the previous owner went bankrupt? What a steal for 2 acres!

As we paddled back, I gradually became aware of my paddle moving through the water with each stroke.  At first I assumed this was my anticipation of returning to the beach, where a warm fire was awaiting us. However, I couldn't seem to take my eyes off my paddle blades, and soon realized that I was experiencing a special Tomales Bay phenomenon: bioluminescence, the production of light by living organisms. In Tomales Bay these organisms are called "dinoflagellates". They are most prolific during late summer and early fall when strong winds cause upwellings (when deep, cold, nutrient-rich water swirls up to the surface). They gather the sun's energy during the day and glow when jostled. This is thought to be a defense mechanism. When I pointed this out to my fellow paddlers, they were skeptical at first. Darkness hadn't set in entirely, and the glow was still very faint. The dinoflagellates tend to cluster in eelgrass beds, which are abundant in the shallower parts of the Bay. When we reached a patch of eelgrass, the water around us began to sparkle with bright green light, and the splashing began! We excitedly returned to the campsite and encouraged other reluctant campers to get back into their cold, damp, kayaks to make their own watery fireworks. It was harder to see the glow from the beach, where headlamps and campfires overpowered the glow. However, simply walking in the wet sand left glowing footprints behind! We stayed in our boats as long as possible, splashing and trying to take pictures of the magical glow until the cold drove us to the brighter campfire.

On trip to Point Reyes two weeks later, many of us saw the bioluminescence in another form. As we stood on the beach at Coast Camp (on the west side of the peninsula), flashes of green light lit up the shoreline with each crashing wave.

The next morning we packed up our tents and began the long paddle back. The wind was strong, and we were relieved to finally reach the parking lot. 

Boats loaded up and ready to go home. Photo © 2013 Joël Thai

The overnight crew! Photo © 2013 Joël Thai

Date: Saturday/Sunday August 13-14th, 2013
Time: 2 days!
Distance ~ 11 miles (very rough)

Post-Turkey Sponyaking

Chiddling = Chill paddling
Sponyaking = Spontaneous kayaking
Imprompaddling = Impromptu paddling

It's my favorite kind of day on the water. Never planned more than a day in advance. Simple logistics, slow pace, and good friends (none of this organized crowd-yaking with strangers nonsense). It's the kind of paddle when your PFD is the perfect beer holder. There is no purpose, destination, or expectation, so only pleasant surprises remain.

The day after Thanksgiving I made the trek from North Berkeley to the Kayak Hotel in Oakland. Sadly, it was the first time I've seen my boat since moving to Berkeley two months ago. On this warm sunny morning, I rolled Big Purple down to the docks, dropped her into the water, and took off for CCK. With my iced coffee (not beer!) strapped to the front deck with bungee cords, I looked like a true city girl.

Ten minutes later I arrived at California Canoe & Kayak, the local kayaking shop where I was meeting Doug and his family (bother, sister, and 8-year old nephew). I bobbed about, sipping on my coffee and enjoying the kayak shop atmosphere. When Doug & co. arrived, they loaded into two red tandems and we headed west, towards San Francisco.

Somewhat surprisingly, paddling in the heavily developed Oakland Estuary is never boring. While it's not the sort of isolated outdoor adventure some might desire, it's always fun to gawk at the massive cargo ships, stacked high with shipping containers from across the ocean. Even with the holiday, the cranes were working hard, dangling the packed containers perilously over our heads (ok, not quite over). Three crowded ferries plowed by us, filled with happy consumers excited for the Black Friday deals awaiting them across the Bay. Their wakes reflected from both sides of the channel and lifted us high in the air. In lieu of any photos, here's an awesome link where you can see real time locations of ships in San Francisco Bay.

8-Year-old Daniel and I embarked on a garbage-collection competition. It didn't take long before Big Purple was stacked with 50 cans and potato chip bags. When I offered my stack to Daniel to make the competition more fair, he didn't fall for my trick. So I guess I won?

We made it all the way to the mouth of the Estuary, between the airfield and Middle Harbor Shoreline Park, which apparently hosts concerts in the summertime (on the to-do list). We applied sunscreen, ate some snacks, and turned back towards Oakland.

The route, starting in the estuary and paddling out to the Bay. In this map you can also see Lake Merritt. I lived on the east side of the Lake for two years before moving to Berkeley two months ago.

Date: Friday November 29th, 2013
Time: ~2 hours
Distance ~ 7.5 miles

Thanks to Jeff for a much needed kick-in-the-pants to update the blog. I've skipped quite a few wonderful paddling trips, but it's always easier to start with a simple one :). Stay tuned for a guest post from Jeff in a week or so!