Sea kayaking destinations

Sea Kayaking Na Pali – Tsunami Rangers in Paradise

by Tsunami Ranger Steve King

Kayaking the 6 million year-old Na Pali coast of Kauai, Hawaii

After many months of planning and excited anticipation a group of 26 people from Norway, Australia, New Zealand, O’ahu, California and Serbia (by way of Australia) converged in Hanalei, Kauai to make final preparations for 6 nights and 7 days of kayaking and exploring the legendary Na Pali coast (no, not quite like the movie with Harrison Ford and Anne Heche but it was partially filmed there).

First morning landscape of Na Pali paddling

We were standing in a brief tropical shower getting to know each other when the equally legendary owner of Kayak Kauai, Micco Godinez, walked by and mentioned that one of the people in another party he had rented kayaks to was officially “lost at sea” and that search and rescue operations were in the making due to strong winds and large swells breaking on the Na Pali coast. He mentioned that we were unlikely to be launching our fully loaded 4 double and 18 single kayaks the next day. Fortunately it turned out that the kayaker “lost at sea” had pulled out at Hanakapi’ai beach, the first beach that most people who want to see a bit of the Na Pali coast visit on a 3-4 hour hike. By 9 the next morning Micco’s highly capable daughter had hiked to the beach and paddled the kayak back to the shop all safe and sound.

Ancient cliffs where wild goats roam and send occasional rock falls down upon the beach and a few not so desirable campsites in the Kalalau.

Our journey was led by New Zealander Mark Hutson, a fellow Tsunami Ranger and kayak tour operator, and his fianceé, also a skilled kayaker, Sasha Seal. Mark and Sash had not only made the Na Pali trip in kayaks several times but they had also hiked the Na Pali coast as well as swimming it, with gear in tow as they swam with mask, snorkel and fins. Our group was mostly Tsunami Rangers and their friends and family. Michael Powers, aka Don Miquel Padre Tiempo, was the senior Tsunami Ranger on the trip at age 73. The youngest member of the team was Maya, my daughter, almost 15, so we had a big age spread in our group. Don Miquel is about as salty as they come and he managed to seduce a number of his friends away from their homes in Norway and California. They included two Bay Area couples who are noted documentary film makers and producers. These film people were making a pilot documentary on our Na Pali journey.

Double hulled canoes paddled by Hawaiians on a voyage on the Na Pali coast, similar to the vessels that transported local people and missionaries through this landscape in the past.this landscape. — Double hulled canoes paddled by Hawaiians on a voyage on the Na Pali coast, similar to the vessels that transported local people and missionaries through this landscape in the past.

On our journey we would paddle past ancient settlements built by the first Hawaiians who lived on this challenging but enchanted landscape. The trip included a marriage on a sacred platform above the sea, all night vomiting sessions by some participants (without aid of alcohol or sacred substances) a beautiful Farewell Fire for the ashes of an extraordinary man who was father to three of the paddlers and a dear friend to Mark, incredibly beautiful landscapes, and some spectacular beach dumps as we landed our kayaks.

Due to unsafe weather conditions we spent several days honing up our paddling skills in big surf, hiking to the Hanakapi’ai waterfalls, and visiting Limahuli Botanical Garden. We also learned about ancient Hawaiian fishing techniques and fireworks, and taro fields from Presley Wann (a Punahou High School classmate of Mark’s) who is the humble president of a visionary non-governmental organization (NGO) called Hui Maka’ Ainana. Hui Maka’ Ainana is at the end of the road before the routes down Na Pali begin. The NGO was formed in 1998 by key members of the native community in Ha‘ena who had been discussing how to restore Hawaiian values and stewardship practices for some years.

The site of Hui Maka'Ainana, a non profit educational organization which was formed in 1998 by key members of the native community in Ha'ena who had been discussing how to restore Hawaiian values and stewardship practices for some years. — The site of Hui Maka’Ainana

Presley and his colleagues had transformed a parcel of overgrown land into flourishing taro fields using only physical labor. He and some friends including an elder named Tom Hashimoto taught us about the central role of taro in Hawaiian diet and culture. Tom is considered to be the best living fishing net weaver on Kauai. He offers workshops to youths as part of the NGO program on making and using traditional nets and where to use them on local reefs that he knows intimately from fishing them all his life.

Taro plantation on the lo'i — Taro plantation on the lo’i

The ancient people who lived on Na Pali did not always fish with nets. A missionary who traveled the Na Pali in 1820, Hiram Bingham (whose grandson “discovered” Machu Picchu) described one of the ways the first Hawaiians living there used to stun and catch fish:

Near this settlement, we saw about 70 men, women, and children, employed in fishing. Their method of taking the fish from the sea is remarkable. Diving down, they place a vegetable poison among the stones at the bottom, which being greedily eaten by the fish, immediately produces on them an intoxicating effect. The natives then dive or swim after them, and catch them in their hands, or sitting in canoes, or standing near the shore, take them easily in scoop nets. It was amazing to see my Otaheitan youth, and others of our company, as we passed along, dive off from our canoe, first on one side and then on the other, to seize the bewildered fish, which strove in vain to elude their grasp.

Archival photograph of Ohai or "King's special fireworks" display as flaming sticks are hurled like javelins into the trade winds that shoot up the cliff creating air cushions which make the flaming sticks rise and fall as glowing embers fly into the sky. — Archival photograph of Ohai or “King’s special fireworks” display as flaming sticks are hurled like javelins into the trade winds that shoot up the cliff creating air cushions which make the flaming sticks rise and fall as glowing embers fly into the sky.

One day while we were waiting out the weather Presley looked up at the steep cliff above the taro fields and described “Ohai” or the fireworks display of the ancient Hawaiians which his grandfather had seen. A description by the botanist Otto Degener helps the imagination fill in what we can see in the photograph above:

Ohai, the fireworks of the Hawaiians, was by far the most spectacular of their amusements. This took place on the northern coast of Kauai where the cliffs drop perpendicularly almost 2,000 feet into the ocean. On these heights the performers stationed themselves with oiled, dried sticks of hau or some other light wood. At night each performer lit one of these inflammable sticks and cast it into the air to the delight of the spectators gathered in canoes hundreds of feet below, The blazing wood was buoyed up by the strong trade wind and able to drop only very slowly into the ocean. As fast as these sticks were lighted the performers cast them into space until, to the spectator below, the sky appeared to be ablaze with scores of comets and shooting stars rising and falling, darting seaward or receding toward the cliffs, crossing and re crossing each other in the most fantastic way. This weird spectacle, sometimes supplemented with glowing kukui nuts that quickly reached their goal, continued long into the night. One by one the oiled sticks were consumed and the blazing firebrands flickered and disappeared, or the winds gradually subsided and they glided slowly and gracefully into the ocean where eager hands were out stretched to receive them. With these burning sticks the agile youths branded their arms as proof of having witnessed the ohai.

Because our expedition was delayed we were afforded an opportunity to delve deeper into the rich cultural and ecological history of the Na Pali Coast. We also learned that in the early 1800’s there was a mass migration of people from Ni’ihau (an island 17 miles away now privately owned) to Kauai, including to the Kalalau valley, where we would be landing our kayaks. Today the annual mass migration is primarily 1.5 million tourists who come from around the world for a few weeks. Some, like us, are fortunate enough to see the Na Pali coast up close.

Lena King after leaving Kee' beach en route to Kalalau. — Lena King after leaving Ke’e beach en route to Kalalau.

Finally conditions allowed us to launch. It was great to be in our scuppers and on our way. We paddled in two groups. There were strong trade winds at our backs allowing us to surf the following seas. Several of us ventured into large caves containing waterfalls cascading down the cliffs offering freshwater showers. As we feasted our eyes on the amazing landscape we were enthralled by the power of the Na Pali coast. Three hours later we carefully, one by one, paddled onto the long, isolated beach at Kalalau. There was still pretty big surf thumping onto the beach so we had the strong younger paddlers land first to grab the boats as the incoming paddlers exited as quickly as possible. We had one close call as a fully loaded kayak sans paddler roared up the beach on a wave that almost clipped the leg of an eager but dangerously unaware “helper”. Note to readers: never try to “help”.

Sea caves and ancient cliffs emerge as we move down the coast on a glorious morning

After a shady rest and some lunch several of us headed up to explore the forest and the luscious pools in the stream that makes its way out to the ocean close to a ceremonial platform. We were delighted to find small tomatoes and guavas growing among the scrub above the beach. Dinner and a gorgeous sunset ended a wonderful day. That evening a few of us had an unexplained all night session of extreme nausea and intense vomiting. We think it was unrelated to our delicious food or filtered water and that story may be submitted to the New England Journal of Medicine as a case study.

The next day most of the group wandered up into the “ginger pools”. We soothed our tired muscles in one of many lovely pools under a cascading waterfall. We understood that this place was inhabited not just by hikers, kayakers and occasional scientific expeditions but by the ghosts of families and communities. Scholarly descriptions of the area became vivid and some of us were transported back in time as we ran our hands along the ancient walls:

With abundant rivers and flowing waterfalls, fresh water was in plentiful supply. Fish, as well as kalo, or taro, provided sustenance along with sweet potatoes and breadfruit, which were cultivated through sophisticated irrigation systems in hanging valleys and along the shorelines. The small ruling class of ali’i (royalty) held the power and enjoyed any luxuries that may have come from a lifestyle that was demanding for most living on the isolated Na Pali.

This coastal region was known as a central location for commerce between Hanalei, Waimea and Ni`ihau, as well as the western islands of the Hawaiian archipelago. Trade was done via canoe and various foot trails that rose up to 4,000 feet in some valleys. Traces of this lifestyle still remain today in the rock walls and terraces found in places along the Na Pali, like Nu`alolo Kai.

One of the dozens of exquisite waterfalls and "ginger" pools in the Kalalau valley, above the beach campsites — One of the dozens of exquisite waterfalls and “ginger” pools in the Kalalau valley, above the beach campsites

Kalalua beach as one emerges from the forest and streams — Kalalau beach as one emerges from the forest and streams

Later in the afternoon most of us had made our way back to our beach campsite and were resting in the shade when Mark and Sasha appeared, wearing glowing smiles and fresh leis of leaves and flowers. They announced that they had just been married on the ancient ceremonial platform right above the sea! We all jumped up to congratulate them. The ceremony had been performed by Bill, who is Mark’s good friend and a priest as well as a Punahou graduate. Bill had also chanted a ceremonial Hawaiian blessing when we started our journey. The Best Man was another Punahou buddy. As the sun set a lot of us disrobed and plunged into the waves laughing and splashing as we bid good day to the Sun and the Ocean, thanking them for blessing the new union.

Sacred vows of marriage being exchanged on a ceremonial platform in Kalalau

The following day we loaded our boats and launched again heading to the take out at Polihale State Beach. We passed a restricted access archeological site called Nu’alolo, which had been occupied for 800 years from the 12^th through the 20^th century. This site contains the remains of impressive structures and has been extensively studied. Mark also pointed out several “hanging valleys” that contained fertile soil and abundant fresh water. At the back the valleys were surrounded by steep cliffs, the pali, making the only access via the sea. Some valleys were accessible only by rope or by simple ladders hanging down or propped up on the rock faces above the crashing surf. These ladders or ropes could be pulled up by the residents, providing protection from any potential attack.

The Tsunami Rangers with friends and family on Kalalau Beach before departing on the last day of the journey.

The intrepid Michael Powers aka Don Miguel Padre Tiempo, elder Tsunami Ranger in repose.

As we paddled a light rain cooled us and whipped up the sea with chop and wind. We stopped for lunch and then began our final paddle to the take out. Mark had prepared us for possible headwinds as we came around a sharp bend in the landscape and we did encounter a bit of wind briefly but it soon died down.

Paddling with rain showers as the group heads to Polihale State Park for one more crashing surf landing

We made one final surf landing at Polihale State Park. The total distance paddled was 16 miles. There were a few spectacular end over end dumps on the beach but many more graceful, smooth and Tsunami-worthy wave rides, ironically mostly executed by non-Rangers both young and old.

Another Tsunami adventure comes to a close... — Another Tsunami adventure comes to a close…

There was a real Tsunami connection on this expedition. Ranger Don Kiesling had paddled the Na Pali coast on a day trip which can also be done in summer, weather permitting. Tsunami Ranger Captain Jim Kakuk paddled the Na Pali coast many years ago in spring when conditions are more intense. In fact Jim and Eric through many trips to Kauai had forged a friendship with Micco, our outfitter, and Micco was keen to hear how Jim was doing. Don Miquel Powers presented Micco with a copy of Eric’s latest book as homage to their friendship and deep kayaking bond.

If you are one of the lucky people who has experienced the Na Pali coast let us hear about your experience!

Sea Kayaking Sardinia

Wildflowers - Many times I noticed how sweet the air in Sardinia smelled from the plants and shrubs — Wildflowers – Many times I noticed how sweet the air in Sardinia smelled from the plants and shrubs

“If you smile at me I will understand ‘cause that is something everybody everywhere does in the same language.” – from “Wooden Ships” by Crosby, Stills, and Nash

“Pilgrimage is necessary in some shape or other…We have to come to the end of a long journey and see that the stranger we meet there is no other than ourselves.” – Thomas Merton

“We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.” – T.S. Eliot, “Little Gidding”

“Getting out of the house” means getting out of your back yard, your comfort zone, your habitual kayaking venues. This June I got out of the house with a vengeance, traveling to the Mediterranean island of Sardinia. There is nothing extreme about Sardinia, unless it is the beauty, happiness, and friendliness of the people. But for me, this trip was still Extreme. My kayak was not my usual Tsunami washdeck but a typical touring kayak complete with spray skirt. New equipment, new paddling companions, and a completely new kayaking environment, plus flying for a day and a half to get there. EXTREME!

The "Fox's Burrow" Hotel in the uplands of Sardinia — The “Fox’s Burrow” Hotel in the uplands of Sardinia

The first day of kayaking our guide Claudio excused me from using my spray skirt. I love that man! As it turned out, the likelihood of tipping over or getting swamped was virtually nil. I have never paddled flatter waters. Nevertheless because of the unfamiliar nature of my equipment the first day I wasn’t very relaxed and consequently got sore muscles. No rudder and a paddle with blades offset at an angle I wasn’t used to required adaptation.

Kayak day 1 - old town walls of Alghero from water — Kayak day 1 – old town walls of Alghero from water

Kayak day 1 Maria Pia Beach — Kayak day 1 – Maria Pia Beach

Kayak day 1 - shipwreck — Kayak day 1 – shipwreck

The only time I lost it was when I tried to get into my kayak by stepping into the boat when it wasn’t anchored to the beach. Normally I get into my kayak Tsunami style, taking the boat out past the break and then jumping in butt first, swinging my legs in after. But there was no break and Claudio showed me how to get into my kayak by standing in the cockpit, sitting on the coaming, sliding my legs in and lowering my butt in last. I’m not used to shoving off the shore with my paddle and I protect my shoulders (old rotator cuff injuries) so I wanted to get in while my boat had a little buoyancy. I pulled my boat out a ways and stepped in. As some of you may have discovered, it’s hard to stand on a tippy kayak while it’s afloat and as I lowered myself in the boat tipped over. Barbara: “What are you doing?” Me as I fall into the water in slow motion: “Falling over.”

Kayak day 2 - pocket beach — Kayak day 2 – pocket beach

Kayak day 2 - Capo Caccia, an enormous limestone headland in the distance — Kayak day 2 – Capo Caccia, an enormous limestone headland in the distance

Kayak day 2 - 16th C Spanish Tower — Kayak day 2 – 16th C Spanish Tower

I also did an inadvertent seal landing. On our third day out I was getting cocky and decided to cruise through a small opening in the rocks close to shore. I paddled briskly toward the narrow channel. As I approached I saw that the channel wasn’t as deep as I had thought. I could see rocks inches below the surface and only a tiny space in which to pass through. It turned out that though I could steer great on open water, in a narrow space without a rudder I couldn’t make the kayak turn as tightly as needed and instead of slipping through the slot I slid up onto a shoulder of rock in a neat little seal landing. I shoved off with a hard thrust of my paddle, but had my center of gravity been higher I probably would have flipped.

Kayak day 3 - Isla Foradada. It's hollowed out into a large cave on the outside. — Kayak day 3 – Isla Foradada. It’s hollowed out into a large cave on the outside.

Kayak day 3 - Isla Foradada — Kayak day 3 – Isla Foradada

Roman column quarried on Sardinia, dredged up from the seabed — Ancient Roman columns quarried on Sardinia, dredged up from the seabed

We had eight full days in Sardinia, six of which were supposed to be paddling days, but we ended up paddling only four because of weather, mostly wind but also thunderstorms. On our last day on the water, Claudio and I were waiting for the others and I was gazing out at Corsica in the distance. As I watched, I saw a massive white lightning bolt connect the black thunderclouds with the sea and we heard an ominous rumble. The thunder kept coming, and at Claudio’s behest we quit for the day. As it turned out that was our last day on the water because although the thunder and lightning departed, the winds came up and continued to blow for the next three days. We didn’t miss out on the features we were supposed to see though because we hiked those places instead.

Kayak day 4 -put in at Cala Sarraina — Kayak day 4 – put-in at Cala Sarraina

Kayak day 4 - Steph and Barbara — Kayak day 4 – Steph and Barbara

Sardinia is very beautiful and learning new skills in a new kayak was fun. But what I really got out of the trip was how great the people are. I can’t say enough about how kind and friendly everyone was from the security folks at the airports to the people on the street, and most especially our guide Claudio and his lovely girlfriend Valentina who hung out with us some and cooked Barbara and me a delicious dinner on my last night in Sardinia. I spent my last day alone, strolling along the promenade to the white sandy beach, watching kids play foosball, watching adults play beach volleyball, listening to music, smiling at people and having every one of them smile back at me, buying cornettos and fresh squeezed orange juice at little snack shacks and drinking the local lager. Everyone seemed so chill. I thought to myself, “I really like this place!”

19th Century walls allowed for the first time by the Italian king led to trespassing and other issues between clans and villages and caused feuds which continue, sometimes with fatal consequences, today.

Surfers - they're the same everywhere! — Surfers – they’re the same everywhere!

Despite the photo above (and we all know about surfers) in 9 nights and 10 days I didn’t get a negative vibe from a single Sardinian. The Italians too were fantastic. And may I say one of the great things about this vacation was that in spite of the veritable Lucullan feast complete with red and white wine we had every night, thanks to all the kayaking and hiking I didn’t gain a pound!

Please share your thoughts and comments by clicking below. And if you’re interested in traveling to Sardinia, contact Claudio Desiati at SardinianDiscovery.com. I highly recommend him!

Rhode Island – The Ocean State: Personal Reflections of a Sea Kayaker

by Tony Moore

Editor’s note: Tony Moore lives in Jamestown, R.I. with his wife Aline. He has been diving and spearfishing for almost 50 years and has been kayaking since 1997. Tony is also a certified Water Safety Instructor (American Red Cross). He coordinates several RICKA (Rhode Island Canoe & Kayaking Association) paddles every year, usually rock garden trips. He is a frequent contributor to the conversations on this website, and we have learned to love his thoughtful, well-written comments.

The Romance Begins

My love affair with Rhode Island began forty years ago, in 1973. I was in the Navy, and Newport was my new duty station. Although I had grown up in nearby Boston, I knew little about my neighbor to the south. Being a water person, I quickly fell in love with the Ocean State. Diving, spearfishing, playing in the surf, it was all here! Because of its many islands and large bay (Narragansett), there are 400 miles of coast, from calm coves and bays to exposed open coast, to islands of all sizes. And rocks!!! Much of the exposed coast consists of cliffs, rocks, and rock gardens. I soon found many places where the spearfishing was fantastic. Later, when I discovered kayaking, these same locations would provide many hours of rock-gardening fun. Here are a few of my water experiences and observations in the Ocean State over the years.

West Island, Sakonnet Point

West Island is one of several small islands and rocks off of Sakonnet Point in Little Compton, R.I. Hundreds of seagulls and cormorants can be seen there. Sakonnet Point is one of RICKA’s (Rhode Island Canoe and Kayak Association) most popular rock garden venues, and West Island, with its surrounding rock gardens and a protected pool, is always one of our favorite stops.

In 2001, I took Hannah, my youngest daughter, out to see the birds on West Island. We went there well after the newborn birds had hatched, and our goal was to observe the young ones as long as it didn’t cause a disturbance. We soon discovered that the birds were oblivious to us, for a much more intense drama was taking place. The cormorants were all in close huddles. Soon we noticed that the young ones were in the middle of the huddles, and not long after, we discovered why. They were constantly being challenged and harassed by seagulls! The adult cormorants had to maintain a constant vigil, or lose their young to the ravenous gulls…we even saw a seagull attacking a young gull, whose mother was valiantly protecting it. Lesson learned: life in the wild is difficult, and survival is the prime directive.

Seal Rock

Seal Rock lies a third of a mile south of Newport’s Ocean Drive, a wild, exposed area great for spearfishing and rock gardening. On June 23d, 1989, I had snorkeled out to Seal Rock to do some spearfishing. I caught some tautog, headed back to the shore, and was soon driving back home. Listening to the radio, I heard some terrible news: the World Prodigy, a tanker of Greek registry, had just run aground off Brenton Reef…a couple of hundred yards west of Seal Rock…if I had stayed out there longer, I would have witnessed the tragedy. Hundreds of thousands of gallons of diesel fuel contaminated the water, and the effects on wildlife lasted for years. It turns out the captain of the vessel hadn’t gotten any sleep for a day and a half, and was distracted with paperwork. The vessel passed on the wrong side of a navigational buoy. The only “good” thing about the incident is that it was diesel (which evaporates to some extent) and not crude oil. Lesson: we, as water-people, must strive to do all we can, and take the lead to protect our beautiful marine environment, both as individuals, and through groups such as Surf Riders Foundation, and Save the Bay (a R.I. organization devoted to the health of Narragansett Bay).

Early last fall, RICKA did a rock garden paddle that took us out to Seal Rock. While there, I filmed a rare video of purple sandpipers, while negotiating a narrow passageway through Seal Rock. The birds at first flew away from me, as a flock, to the far side of the passageway. Then, still as a group, they flew straight for me, parting to the left and right just before they would have hit my head. Having a helmet cam, I got a wonderful video of the whole event, and put a partially-slow motion version on YouTube ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=ctxaq4N6Cg8 ).

Whale Rock

In 1882, a lighthouse was built almost a half mile east of the Narragansett coast to warn vessels of dangerous rocks located at the southern end of Narragansett Bay’s west passage. That lighthouse, manned by a rotating crew, served its purpose well for many years. Then, on the 21st of September, 1938, bad weather was approaching. Walter B. Eberle wasn’t yet due to begin his watch at the lighthouse, but seeing the weather worsen, he decided to relieve his co-worker early rather than risk a changing of the guard under hazardous conditions. That decision cost him his life, as later the full force of the hurricane of ’38 pounded Whale Rock Light. The powerful storm surge swept the cast iron lighthouse off its stone base. Walter Eberle, age 40, was never found. One of his daughters commented, “He always said he would die in the ocean”. Whale Rock is a frequent stop for R.I. kayakers when crossing from Narragansett to Beavertail Point in Jamestown. As we play in the rocks and passageways of Whale Rock, we remember its tragic history, and the man who heroically stood the last watch there.

The stone foundation is all that remains of the former lighthouse.

Prudence Island

My wife Aline and I last year paddled from Jamestown to Prudence Island in our Tsunami X2. After crossing the shipping channel, we approached Prudence, and proceeded northward close to its eastern shore. A few miles later, we arrived at the ferry landing (Prudence has no bridge, you can only get there by boat). We landed, and proceeded to the small general store. Marcy Dunbar, the store’s owner/manager, greeted us. With her white hair in braided pigtails, Marcy Dunbar, 88 years young, is one of a kind. A lifelong resident of Prudence Island, Marcy is Prudence Island…she knows all of the almost 100 year-round residents living on the 5.6 sq. mile island. She not only runs the general store, but also the post office, and a small library, all in one building. From 1969 to 1972, she was the lamplighter for the Sandy Point lighthouse on the island. At the store, she still tallies up the price of purchases with pencil on a brown paper bag, and she is probably sharper than most teenagers…once, I arrived at 9:50am (a sign on the door said open at 10:00am). The door was locked, but I soon saw her approaching. That key went into that lock at EXACTLY 10:00am! Observation: An important part of the island-hopping kayaking experience is the people you get to meet, not only fellow kayakers, but fishermen, environmental officers, sailors, or just unique “island people”. Some of them, like Marcy, are special, irreplaceable treasures!

Dutch Island

Dutch Island is about 8-tenths of a mile long, shaped roughly like an upside-down teardrop. A lighthouse occupies the southern tip, and a dense growth of trees and bushes dominate the island, punctuated by old, abandoned military buildings and gun emplacements from the Civil War and beyond. Trails course through the island, especially at the perimeter near the water. I’ve camped there several times, often with some of my kids and their friends. We would always have a night-time excursion, with headlights, flashlights, and walkie-talkies, traveling to the southern tip of the island, and climbing the lighthouse, which at that time was in ill repair and abandoned…very spooky! At the top of the stairs, you had to lift a steel trap door, then, voila! you were at the top, with a great 360-degree view of the lower west passage of Narragansett Bay. Once, while on this nocturnal excursion, we were treated to a wonderful light show: thousands of fireflies were doing their thing! And away from any significant light pollution, Dutch Island is great for just watching the stars on a clear summer night…I bring binoculars to enhance the experience. The lighthouse has been restored and the light reactivated, so now it is locked and you can no longer climb to the top. But Dutch Island is still a place I visit often, either alone, with my wife, or on a RICKA paddle.

Beavertail

One of the most scenic and exposed-coast locations in R.I. is Beavertail. It is located at the southern end of Jamestown, and is almost an island (being connected to the rest of Jamestown by a narrow causeway). It’s shaped like a…well…a beaver’s tail. Cliffs, rock gardens, pocket beaches, a sea cave, walking paths, fantastic fishing, open water conditions, and the second oldest in-use lighthouse in the U.S. (it has a small museum and a nature area/aquarium also)…it’s a virtual paradise for anyone who loves the exposed coast.

RIKA members have lunch on one of Beavertail's many pocket beaches — RIKA members have lunch on one of Beavertail’s many pocket beaches

Me in the X2 at the lighthouse (photo by RICKA member M. Krabach)

Ocean whitewater! Wave breaking over a submerged reef at Beavertail

I have an amusing story about Beavertail. I was spearfishing off the lighthouse there. As I was donning my mask, I noticed two Labrador retrievers watching me. I didn’t think much of it, and was soon geared up and heading out of a small cove to the open water at Newton Reef. I don’t know why, but a short while later, I looked back. The dogs were swimming, following me! Well, I said to myself, this isn’t good, I’ll have to lose them. So I turned up the power. After a short while, I looked back…I was gaining on them, but they were STILL following me!!! The last thing I wanted was to be out there, trying to spearfish and worrying about a couple of pooches, soooo…I REALLY turned on the power. After another short period of time I looked back again. The younger retriever had returned to shore, but the mother was STILL FOLLOWING ME!!! I got an idea. Facing the dog, I lifted my mask, spit out the snorkel, and pointing to shore, yelled out as loudly and as clearly as I could, “GO BACK!!!” The words were barely out of my mouth when the dog immediately turned around and headed to shore. I waited and watched, until she was all the way back, united with the other dog I presumed to be her son. The only thing I can figure is the dogs were concerned for my safety, and took it as their duty to protect me. When I said “go back”, this relieved the older dog of her duty. Good thing, as I believe she was getting tired. It was nice to know that there are dogs who are concerned about the welfare of a complete stranger!

Icicle cliffs...simply beautiful! — Icicle cliffs…simply beautiful!

Gould Island

Sometimes, if I only have time for a quick paddle, I go out to Gould Island. It’s a 5 mile round trip from Potter’s Cove that I can do in an hour or less, depending on conditions. The northern part of the island is an old Navy building that was involved with testing torpedoes. It is on pilings, so unless the tide is high, you can paddle under it. If there’s a significant chop, it makes for interesting kayaking.

On one such trip, after I emerged from under the building, I paddled amidst some pilings from an old pier. As I carefully stroked through the maze, I noticed a seagull in distress. Approaching closer, I could see the problem…the bird was tangled in some monofilament line, and had injured one of its wings trying to escape. The line apparently cut into the bird’s wing as it struggled, but it didn’t appear to be a recent injury, a couple of days old in my estimation. Well, I untangled the gull, as carefully as I could while dealing with all the flapping and commotion that resulted. I had the fleeting thought, “Why am I helping this gull, they can be so cruel to other creatures (like those cormorants on West Island)”. But then, I realized, they’re just wild creatures, doing what instinct tells them to…it’s not my place to judge, but it is an opportunity to help a fellow creature in distress. I didn’t know if this bird was strong enough to get by without further help, but that thought dissolved as I untied the last tangle, and…the gull flew away. I was happy that the gull was O.K., and I knew it appreciated being free again, as all wild animals…AND kayakers do. Observation: As water people, we know firsthand the worth of the marine environment. We should be advocates to protect this environment…and that includes the creatures that live there.

Pilings at the north end of Gould Island

Surfing in the Ocean State

One of the best kept secrets about Rhode Island is the fact that some of the best surfing on the east coast can be found along the open southern coastal regions of this smallest state. The Ruggles Ave. surf break is well known as a premier east coast venue for large waves. And the scenery at this break along Newport’s Cliff Walk is unparalleled, with a wild, rocky coast, and the famous Newport Mansions, the summer homes of the Vanderbilts, Belmonts, Astors, Berwinds, and other wealthy moguls. Another surf break is at Narragansett Town Beach…not the best break (usually close-out waves), but very convenient, and great if you want to practice your timing in close-out conditions. There are times, however, when the waves are breaking here decently.

One of my favorite breaks is actually within a system of three jetties, with two large gaps open to the exposed ocean. Waves, passing through these gaps, are refined and cleaned up…yes, they are a bit smaller, but if you like loooong smooooth rides sitting in the pocket the whole way, the K’s, within Galilee’s Harbor of Refuge, is your break.

Surfing at the K's on a small day — Surfing at the K’s on a small day

Even though the waves are a bit smaller, you can still get overhead or higher at times. Among other popular R.I. breaks are Matunuck, Point Judith, The Aves, South Shore Beach, Napatree Point, and First and Second Beaches. Swell and wind direction usually indicate which break will produce the best surfable waves.

Me in the X-15 at the R.I.S.K. session (Rhode Island Surf Kayakers), 02DEC2006

Block Island

Block Island lies 10.2 miles south of Point Judith, R.I. and about 14 miles east-northeast of Montauck, N.Y. Very early on in my kayaking days, I wanted to do a crossing from Pt. Judith to Block Island. This is not a paddle you want to do without major planning. There are currents from Long Island Sound, and you have to cross a major shipping channel, with all kinds of traffic traveling to and from New York City. I also wanted to bring my son Joshua along, 14 years old at the time, but VERY physically capable. Even so, I gave him a test…we went on a 14-mile non-stop paddle along the exposed coast. No problem. So, after a few weeks of doing research, questioning sailors familiar with those waters, and consulting nautical and tide/current charts, we finally got a day with favorable conditions. The 10 mile crossing to Block Island was actually uneventful, but I was glad I took a GPS unit as well as a compass…the angle our path made with the lighthouse on the north of Block Island changed VERY slowly, and it was reassuring to see via the GPS that we were, in fact, advancing toward our goal.

A few days later, Linda, a co-worker of mine, came up to me laughing. She had been at the East Providence Yacht Club, and had overheard a conversation about a couple of fools seen kayaking out to Block Island. She interrupted their conversation, saying, “I know those fools!” Now, it’s not that common, but kayakers DO go out to Block Island…what’s all the fuss about? Well, we did this trip in two Ocean Kayak Malibu II’s, veritable barges 12 feet long and 34 inches wide (the only kayaks I had at the time)! In my own defense, we were well equipped, with compass, GPS, nautical charts, air horn, flares, etc. And the Malibu II’s handle well in rough seas (handle well for “barges” anyway…they don’t have a flat bottom like many recreational kayaks do). But I’d never consider repeating that crossing, now that I know better. Soon after, I joined RICKA, and got to know what real kayaking is like. The lesson is: seek out advice and knowledge from other, more experienced kayakers, through instruction, kayak clubs, books, and the internet. (This website has been a fabulous source of information for me, with world-class experts covering navigation, cold water safety, kayaking skills, etc.)

The Adventure Continues

I hope you have enjoyed my adventures in the Ocean State. Truly, there are so many kayaking opportunities here. Even without the other nearby locations (Boston Harbor Islands, Fisher Island, Montauk, Cape Cod and the Islands, Buzzard Bay, etc.) and the opportunity for winter kayaking, it is truly a kayaking paradise!

We hope you have enjoyed Tony’s rhapsody on Rhode Island. Please feel free to add your thoughts and comments by clicking below. And if any of our readers have a special place they’d like to share, please let us know!

Islands – Musings of A Nomad Sea Kayaker

by Tsunami Ranger Captain Jim Kakuk

Flying over the blue Pacific coastline of Aotearoa “the land of the long white cloud” the view below is a daisy chain of small islands off the mainland, itself an island. New Zealand is comprised of 33 main islands and many more very small ones. In my life as a nomad kayaker New Zealand has been one of my favorite destinations. During my travels there I have kayaked to islands in the Bay Of Islands, explored and camped on islands along the outside coast and looked at charts plotting new islands to visit. While islands around the world are different, they share many things in common.

ISLAND IMAGES
Photos of islands evoke a peaceful image and I have always been attracted to islands from literature, movies and fantasy. Islands draw you in, entice, tempt and seduce like the garden of Eden. My early fantasy was to live like the castaway Robinson Crusoe on a deserted Island making my own way. Images of buried treasure chests of gold coins filled my daytime dreams and of course the adventurous life of a pirate as in “Treasure Island” was every child’s fantasy. TV’s “Gilligan’s Island” was my teenage image and later “Fantasy Island”. Remember “de plane, de plane”! The recent TV reality hit series “Survivor” is filmed on an island and the iconic two-piece swimsuit bikini was named after an island in the Pacific.

For holidays we think of exotic island destinations like Hawaii, Fiji, Tonga, Bora Bora, etc. The attractions are isolation and pristine beaches, your own territory surrounded by the sounds of ocean waves and a fresh clean breeze blended with the smell of salt water. Island hopping is a form of travel and there are jungle islands, desert islands, volcanic islands and there are island countries (New Zealand) and island nations (Micronesia).

The Hawaiian island of Molokai seen from Napili Bay on the island of Maui

THE ATTRACTION
Accessable by boat or plane, islands are usually remote, and only people and birds travel there regularly. Food is gathered from the sea or land, lush with warm colors and scented flowers. Stories, lore and legends are associated with islands and their history. There are few formalities and low stress with a casual dress code. On a primitive island you can swim and sun bathe naked: no worries, be happy.

On a small island you are aware of all the boundaries and hiding places. The paths are familiar and well-traveled to other tucked away places. There is always something around the corner or to be found on the beach after a high tide. Your senses are heightened and you are able to notice subtle changes in the environment. Communication is by sight and sound with your neighbors, the “coconut telegraph”. Time passes in a different way as you observe the sunrise and sunset over the water. Island time is based on the light of day, weather and the mood of the ocean. The main source of transportation on or around is by foot or small paddle craft, the attraction that draws kayakers. The sport of surfing came from the islands and was first noted by Captain Cook in Hawaii in 1779 at Kealakekua Bay on the Kona coast of the Big Island.

Travelling the islands by paddle craft, Coromandel, NZ

Houses are small quaint bamboo huts in clusters surrounded by coconut trees. Small paths lined with tiki torches connect dwellings. A simple, primitive and tribal way of living, you must use creative ways of making things from available materials. Fishing and gathering food is a daily ritual along sandy white beaches. Cooking is on a small wood fire, pit or camp stove. Island images are the stuff of movies, natural sets with clear tropical water, coral reefs and lagoons. Mythical sirens and mermaids abound in literature and music is rife with island songs and poems. Painters like the composition of beaches, blue water and colorful flora and fauna. On an island you have the protection of the surrounding water, a fortress of independence with a very large moat. Islands have a weather, or windward, and a leeward side. Sailor’s lore is laced with stories of islands as they appear as mirages in the open sea. Sanctuary and solitude is synonymous with islands and the term “island paradise” is heard often and ”an island never cries”.

Molokai Cliffs and Kalaupapa Peninsula on the windward side of the island

Let’s not forget romance, the ultimate fantasy of finding love on an island as in “Blue Lagoon”. Wedding ceremonies are a popular theme on an island, with white sandy beaches, blue water and solitude. Colorful dress, native culture and a barefoot warrior protector in a traditional sarong make for a memorable setting and lasting union.

A barefoot warrior protector in a traditional sarong... — A barefoot warrior protector in a traditional sarong…

EVOLUTION, MYSTERY AND SURVIVAL
Science is indebted to islands as a clinical, clear track of biology’s evolution and the specialization of species to the environment they live in. Darwin’s study of the species on the Galapagos Islands is one example. Islands hold many mysteries also: the statues of Easter Island in the Pacific and the fortress of Nan Madol on Pohnpei, Micronesia are just a few that come to mind.

Living on an island has some disadvantages: a limited cultural exchange and some people experience “island fever” after a while and feel the need to travel abroad. The term “marooned” usually applies to shipwrecked sailors being trapped on an island. Sailors lament being stranded on a deserted island and become crazed like Tom Hanks in the movie “Castaway”. There are numerous jokes and cartoons about being marooned on a small island. “If you were trapped on a desert island who would you want to be with”?

Finding water on a small island can be the biggest problem if there is no fresh source. All food should be shared and when hungry, people can become desperate. People who are put in a concentrated group or survival situation show their real character and values. Personal vices, habits and addictions become paramount when human nature and individual interests are put at odds with the common good. “Lord of the Flies” is a novel about a group of British boys stuck on an uninhabited island who try to govern themselves, with disastrous results. Pitcairn Island in the Southern Pacific was settled by Fletcher Christian and the mutineers of the Bounty in 1790 with other Polynesian men and Tahitian women. Though they learned to survive comfortably by farming and fishing, infighting soon ended the tranquil setting and nearly half of the male inhabitants were killed over prejudice, land and women.

ISLAND STORIES
Dreamer Island is a small rock Island in Oregon that the Tsunami Rangers claim as a spiritual place; we named it after the Dreamer faith of the Nez Perce, the native American people living in the Pacific Northwest of America. The Nez Perce believed that revelations were revealed in dreams, songs and dances. Eric and I landed on Dreamer Island in 1987 and went there often on retreats and vision quests. We have had many interesting experiences and special times on Dreamer Island and it has become part of Tsunami Ranger history. On our last visit to Dreamer we honored Eric’s request and scattered some of his ashes in a ceremony on top of the island.

In September 2001 the Tsunami Ranger retreat was held on Santa Cruz Island in the Channel Islands. On the 11th we were camped in Scorpion Bay when the ranger came to inform us of the World Trade Center attack. We were concerned but not traumatized like those who watched it on live TV. We spent the day paddling along the island coast and noted the absolute tranquil even serene environment. There was a noticeable lack of boat and air traffic and it felt like we were insulated from the event and in a different reality from the rest of the country.

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Kayak Pilgrim – A Sea Kayak Adventure

Life should be one adventure after another. If not, you’ve lived too long.

Whenever I become too mellow, my heart yearns and yearns for adventure.

You take the high road and I’ll take the high road. Okay you take the low road and I’ll take the high road. Well, if you insist, you take the high road and I’ll take the low road. As long as we take to the road and start moving.

The above quotes represent some of Eric Soares’ thoughts on adventure. Life with him was pretty much non-stop. If we weren’t kayaking or exploring the hinterlands, we were sitting around, martinis in hand, “talking deep philosophy” (his phrase) and planning our next move. I’ve always shared Eric’s wanderlust. Now that he is gone, my heart still yearns for adventure. And as Thomas Mann reminds us, “Space, like time engenders forgetfulness…Time, we say, is Lethe; but change of air is a similar draught, and, if it works less thoroughly, does so more quickly.” (From The Magic Mountain.)

Introduction

On Monday, June 11, I tied my Tsunami X-15 onto my truck and set off for adventure. One of my goals was to establish myself as a kayaker even though my kayaking partner is gone. In 16 years I don’t think I ever went out on the ocean without Eric. All that has changed. Another goal was to reconnect with old friends and meet new ones. First stop, Marna Powell’s place. Marna owns KayakZak’s, an outfitter in Orick, California. When Eric died, she friended me on Facebook. She told me how one time she saw Eric’s slide show and was psyched to discover that she could do the same things in the ocean, i.e. play in rocks and surf, as she did kayaking in rivers. Whitewater is whitewater after all. She offered me a place to stay if I was ever passing through. This offer as well as a phone call from Connie Taylor who lives in Elk south of Orick moved me to get movin’. Here is a brief logbook of my journey.

Shameless product placement - the KayakZak's T-shirt

Logbook, Day 1

Drove Highway 199 to Crescent City. Continued south along the coast to Prairie Creek Redwoods. Stopped to hike Ossagon Trail to beach. Ubiquitous ferns, and ancient redwoods like tall, silent witnesses. Green light filtering through old growth. A bird call that sounded like a ray gun – one long high-pitched note, then silence, and then again at broken intervals. A pair of elk at the beach. Long stretches of gray sand fading away into fog. On the way back, startled a large flock of band-tailed pigeons and kept flushing them, wings clattering in the echoing forest. No people. Atmosphere felt strange, otherworldly. Then down the road to Orick where I met up with Marna at her home. Cool kayak henge at gate. Great conversation as we got to know one another. Martinis, hers with jalapeno-stuffed olives, mine with a Meyer lemon twist. Excellent albacore salad with greens from her garden. Beautiful guest room – lovely quilt made by her mom.

Logbook, Day 2

Off to Trinidad to meet Rebekah Kakuk at the Beachcomber Café, but she didn’t bring her boat. Dang! Water glassy. No wind. Instead of paddling we walked down to the cliff top and sat in the sun and talked. Haven’t seen her much since she and Jim split, and it was good to get together. Drove south to Eureka to meet Jim – lunch with him and Rebekah at Gallagher’s. After some consideration decided (partly on Jim’s advice) to take the coast highway instead of 101 to Elk. Jim recommended McKerricher State Park where I was lucky enough to get a site without a reservation. Great campground. Went for a long walk along the coastal bluffs. Stunningly beautiful rock gardens. Was serenaded by a white-crowned sparrow that sang for me from about 4 feet away, completely unafraid. At night, beautiful stars once the fog rolled back.

Logbook, Day 3

Next morning was sunny, so I repeated my walk of the previous day and took more pics. Checkerspot butterfly allowed me to approach within inches and observe. Like the sparrow, a letter from emptiness. Drove from McKerricher to Elk about an hour away. Stopped at Caspar Beach, a nice protected little cove where I encountered a Liquid Fusion vehicle parked on the roadside. Cate Hawthorne and Jeff Laxier were surfing and I took some pics but did not hail them as I was running late.

Andy and Connie Taylor live on a ridge about 4 miles in from the coast. Beautiful medicinal and kitchen gardens. They are growing shiitake mushrooms on tan oak rounds under the house. Venison tacos for lunch with greens from the garden and chipotle sauce. I hadn’t seen Andy for years, so it was nice to catch up. Eric was right; Connie and I have a lot in common. Even though I’d never met her, we were friends right away. Because she lost her first husband, Storm Sea King Steve Sinclair back when Eric and I were first together, we had a lot to say to each other. Steve and Eric were much alike. For some time I have felt that this place was an important destination on my spiritual map as I journey through the bereavement process. I was right. Hung out alone on the beach in the evening, then dinner of fried eggs (from their own hens) and more venison with beans, avocado and cheese. Yum. The whites of the eggs were nice and fluffy, like a meringue. For cocktails, I made my special martinis.

Logbook, Day 4

Next morning Connie served me home-made kombucha. Had planned to go kayaking, and the previous day we had checked out the inventory at the kayak guide shop that used to belong to Force 10, which Connie sold some time ago. It was great to see all the old, beat-up Tsunami boats and we picked a couple to take out. I wanted to see the cave under the cemetery at Cuffy’s Cove where Eric and the Rangers used to go, but NOAA forecasted 13-foot swells at 9 seconds and 20 – 30 knot winds with 40-knot gusts. We didn’t go. Connie and I spent the morning in the garden. Transformational. Kayaking would have been great, but that morning spent talking and watering the garden was special. Now that I’m home I feel like I was transported to a magical land, sought healing, found it, and was sent back to present myself to the powers that be, ready for duty. On my way back north camped at Patrick’s Point. Lucked out and got a great campsite and was serenaded again, this time by a song sparrow that appeared to consider my site his personal space. Took a long hike along the rim trail. Impressive rock formations, wild ocean and beautiful Sitka spruce and Douglas fir plantations.

Logbook, Day 5

Next morning met Rebekah again in Trinidad about 6 miles away. This time she brought a boat, a little Tsunami X-7 that used to belong to Tsunami Ranger Misha Dynnikov. Had a great time paddling around the sea stacks behind Trinidad Head. Landed on a beach about ¾ of a mile to the south and looked for agate and jasper. Played on the sea stacks and she let me try the X-7, a little play boat which was hella squirrely. Unfortunately, the foot wells were too long for my short legs, and since the boat has no rudder I had to maintain a straight course by hitching my hips hard from side to side as I paddled while wedging with my thighs. It was fun, but the boat is definitely not designed for long paddles. The wind picked up on our way back to the put-in and things got kind of exciting but we made it back feeling like we got a good workout. Made some plans for kayaking together in the future, especially up the Oregon coast. Thinking about doing the Tsunami Retreat in August with Rebekah in a Tsunami Trident. As a parting gift she gave me a Tibetan prayer rug as a seat cover for my truck. Love it! Drove home in brilliant sunshine, surrounded by the scent of roses from two buds Connie had given me to perfume the cab of my truck.

Conclusions

Several very positive things came out of this trip. One, I met Marna Powell and was able to put a face to the name of my new friend in the kayaking community. Also, Marna gave me an idea. She told me that when she first saw Eric’s slide show and wanted to start paddling rock gardens and surf, there was no one in her community to team up with. So she started teaching people to do the things she wanted to do. This gave me the idea of teaching my friend Lissa Roberts to kayak. Lissa lives in Ashland and is a hardcore athlete (backcountry skiing, climbing, backpacking, yoga, etc.) She has expressed an interest in going kayaking with me, and now I am determined to get her into a boat.

Two, I had a really great paddle at Trinidad. I got to reconnect with Rebekah and we agreed to be paddling partners since she no longer has Jim and I no longer have Eric. This could be really good for both of us. Plus I talked to Rebekah about it, and she has a lot of extra equipment and a couple of boats, so together she and I should be able to outfit Lissa quite well. Look out, coast!

Three, I got to see where Andy and Connie Taylor live and finally got to meet Connie after all these years. As I suspected she was a very important person for me to talk to at this time in my life. I am reminded of the cartoons one sees of the person climbing the mountain top to see the old wise man. Except this time the wise one is a woman who makes her own bread and yogurt, a mom who sweeps her floor and pulls weeds in her garden. She too can be a paddling partner. Even though we weren’t able to go out together this trip, there will be other opportunities. I’ll be back.

So my desire to find my kayaking chops and to connect was successful. In fact, when I contacted Liquid Fusion to find out who the surfers were at Caspar Beach, Cate Hawthorne told me to let her know next time I’m down that way. Another connection! Moreover, this was a scouting trip. I learned where Marna, Rebekah, and the Taylors live. I drove down a section of the Pacific coast I haven’t seen in years and located a lot of good kayaking and camping spots. I got on the water only once, but it was somewhere I had never been and we had a really good day. I made plans to come back in the future, and to explore the Oregon coast as well.

Even more important, this trip was a pilgrimage. As I drove along Highway 1, I stopped from time to time to look out at the sea stacks and rock gardens. I knew that Eric had travelled this coastline many times in his kayaking career. I thought about how he must have stood at many of the same places I stood, scouting the coastline, wanting to do more than just stand on the bluffs looking down, wanting to be out on the ocean with the waves and rocks where everything is happening. In fact, I knew that Eric and the Tsunami Rangers had paddled at both McKerricher and Patrick’s Point State Parks and that’s one of the reasons I wanted to stay at those places. And while I too had paddled with Eric in these parts, I was thinking of a more distant time in the mid-80’s when Eric had just met Steve Sinclair and the Tsunami Rangers were just getting started.

Eric wanted to do things no one else had done in the sea kayaking world, so he made connections and formed friendships that supported him in his endeavor. Following his example, now I’m doing the same: making connections, forming friendships, and scouting the waves. Whereas Eric was a stud in his 30’s, I am a 54-year old widow. My friends aren’t young, strong men; they’re middle-aged women suffering the physical consequences of a lifetime of athletic activity. But the principle is the same. I still want to go out and kayak the Tsunami way as best I can at this time of my life with my friends.

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