Kayak trip celebrates birthday Weather perfect for overnight stay on Penobscot Bay island

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Write this down in your journal – Oct. 11-12, 2003: Weather superb! Temps in the mid- to upper 60s, sunny with a light haze, showers later on the 12th. Moon just past full. What a glorious Columbus Day weekend we had. I don’t think it…
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Write this down in your journal – Oct. 11-12, 2003: Weather superb! Temps in the mid- to upper 60s, sunny with a light haze, showers later on the 12th. Moon just past full.

What a glorious Columbus Day weekend we had. I don’t think it could have been better even if we’d asked for it. As I headed home from Castine late Sunday afternoon, I couldn’t help but think how lucky our band of four kayakers had been on our late season mini-expedition into Penobscot Bay – very little wind and waves, a cooperative tide, clear weather, and mild temperatures.

It turned out to be one of those last-minute, late-night decisions. You know the kind. A friend calls you with an idea, then another checks in with another idea. Add in a third and a simple day outing turns into an overnight, two- day venture. Plans were finalized around 11 p.m. Friday to depart Castine about 1 p.m. Saturday so we could catch the outgoing tide and ride it to an island where we’d celebrate a birthday.

It worked for me because I was going to be on Castine’s placid waters earlier Saturday with colleague Alicia Anstead. Earlier this summer she graciously offered me a place in town to crash for a few nights while she and her husband were out of town. As a token of my appreciation I promised her a kayak outing. Not much, I know, but what else could I offer? We managed to find some wild apples on trees along the shore of the Bagaduce River. Anstead, the avid cook, figured they’d make a great pie, so we picked a bunch to take home.

We got back to the dock in time for Anstead to get to the store and get provisions for the evening’s Red Sox party, and I started gathering gear to pack for the afternoon adventure. Wouldn’t you know, I ran into another colleague, Roxanne Saucier and her husband Galen, who had come down from Bangor for lunch. It seemed like old home week! (Thanks, Roxanne, for buying lunch. It was great!)

As I ate, the gang gathered. Andrea Iverson blew in from Washington. Dr. Robert Causey drifted in from Glenburn. Trail Boss Karen Francoeur unsaddled from her morning photo shoot and began outfitting her kayak for the overnight trip. A yard sale’s worth of gear cluttered Dennett’s Wharf as we began stuffing hatches.

It was all Causey’s fault. He was the one who was going to add another candle to his cake on Sunday and we planned this outing in response to his desire to spend his 42nd birthday on an island. In all the confusion of loading kayaks, Iverson managed to keep the birthday cake from Causey’s field of view. Just how she was able to get it in her boat with the rest of her gear and not squash it is a mystery to me.

With the stuffing and jamming done, we eased our sausage-like crafts off the dock and headed out — only an hour after our intended departure, but who’s counting? My boat felt like a log. It was a good thing I didn’t know at that point that our journey would take us seven miles south. I think I’d have voted for a closer destination.

After a fashion, I got used to the slower than usual response, and settled into a rhythm. We crossed Castine Harbor and headed for the southern tip of Holbrook, past Nautilus and the Ram Islands. Our destination was the Barred Islands to the south. It was warm enough to be in short sleeves.

From Holbrook we crossed over to Harborside on Cape Rosier and followed the shoreline south past the deer farm and the Nearing’s farm at Orr Cove. At the head of Cape Rosier, about 5 miles from our departure spot, we set a southerly course for an open water crossing to Western Island, just east of Green Ledge, about a mile away. From there it was more than a mile to the Barred Islands, which we hit around 5:30 p.m.

The two islands are connected by what is geologically called a tombolo (I learned after the trip from Francoeur). It’s what I’d call a gravel bar that is exposed up until about two hours either side of high tide. So for eight hours of the tidal cycle, the two islands are one, after that they’re two! We had just enough daylight left to set up tents and get a kitchen area established (a nice niche in the rocks served us well) before we had to break out the headlamps.

Iverson set to work preparing beans and rice, avocado, tomatoes, cheese, salsa, limes, and burritos for wraps. I broke out some sourdough herb bread, cheese, and roasted red pepper hummus, and Francoeur broke out the rum and lemonade. It was a feast fit for a birthday boy! Before we could break into a chorus of Happy Birthday, a great horned owl serenaded us from a nearby treetop! (Does it get any better?)

A valiant effort by Iverson to teach us a card game pretty much ended when we decided it was time to break out the birthday cake and toast Causey’s special day. (After our round of Happy Birthday we never heard the owl again.)

By 10 p.m. I’d pretty much used up all my allotted waking hours and toddled off to my tent in the glow of the waning full moon. The rest of the gang did so later – except for Iverson who chose to stretch out in her bivy sack near the high tide mark to be sure the rising water did not make off with our boats.

I checked on her around 7 a.m. to be sure the tide hadn’t taken her out to sea. She looked dry and comfortable in her little cocoon and I settled down on the island’s southern rocks to write a few lines in the Maine Island Trail Association’s logbook. The rising sun and setting moon combined for an awesome display in the morning haze of faint grays and pinks, subtle whites, and blazing oranges. A seagull cried cat-like on West Barred Island.

Coffee and oatmeal were all that was needed to complete the morning’s finery. There were a few utensils to wash and camp to break, so there wasn’t a lot of time to waste. It wouldn’t have taken a lot of arm twisting to remain there another day, but we had to catch the incoming tide, however.

On our return north, we stopped on a beach on the southern side of Western Island for a quick snack, then set course for the head of Cape Rosier and then Castine. There we’d unpack and wash down our boats and help Francoeur pack up a few of her boats in order to put her tour business, Castine Kayak Adventures, to bed for the winter. If we don’t get any more paddling weather (unlikely as it is), we’ll have ended the season on a positive note.

Jeff Strout can be reached at 990-8202 or by e-mail at jstrout@bangordailynews.net


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