Greetings from sunny Florida! Where, like clockwork, we are experiencing weekly cold fronts from the north causing strong northerly and southerly winds...many dropping morning temperatures into the low 30’s. I am not expecting any pity... ... especially from my northern friends, but know that the fronts are making it challenging to not only plan, but execute segments as many of us paddle the Florida Circumnavigational Saltwater Paddling Trail (FL CT). As I type this blog, another STRONG arctic front is moving through, with another right behind it in time for Super Bowl Sunday in Tamps (Go Bucs!). I'm going fishing in the morning, for the 'prized' redfish...when we launch, it will be 35 degrees, not counting the wind chill. Crazy? Yup. My curiosity is overriding my desire to stay tucked in my warm bed. Misery loves company! I did my first 5-day, 3-night solo this month. The cold fronts required not only creative planning, but flexible support from my awesome shuttle team. That solo was a pivotal experience in my 17-month kayaking ‘career.’ I’m working on that blog, but in the meantime, I wanted to share what it was like crossing Tampa Bay last week! My paddle partner, Michael Woodside, and I originally planned to cross Tampa Bay the first week of December. The float plan was multi-day trip from Ft. DeSoto to Placida. Another frontal system changed those plans; 25 mph winds from the north, there was no way in hell we were going to attempt crossing a large/deep body of water like Tampa Bay. Instead, we launched from the beach (our planned landing spot if we would have kayaked from Ft. DeSoto) then would navigate southbound using the northerly wind to help push us south on our route. As we launched, the wind howled and there were 3-foot breaking waves. Some would say we were crazy, maybe others say we were unsafe, but let me fill you in on our decision-making. Unsafe: On the map, the red line (just under 2 miles) shows our original route and the blue (a tad over 1 mile) indicates our actual. That shorter distance, combined with the fact that if we ditched, we were within swimming distance to the beach is why we went for it. Once we turned right into the local canal, we were out of the rough stuff and had a really nice push south on our journey, 6 mph at times! Crazy: Yup. I didn’t even have time to put my spray skirt completely on. And by the time we made it into the canal, I had a good 3 inches of Tampa Bay in my cockpit (in addition to a kayak full of camping gear). My kayak training (paddling with water in my cockpit) paid off and it was a ride we will never forget! Back to our cancelled Tampa Bay crossing. We rescheduled it, threading the needle in between more cold fronts, the most I have seen since moving to Florida in 2018. So last week, with forecasted southerly winds 10-15 mph, we planned to launch south-to-north (Anna Maria to Ft. DeSoto). Crossing Tampa Bay has a reputation for being anywhere from gentle to brutal. The crossing is only 5-miles wide, but it is one of the widest, deepest, and most exposed bays on the FL CT. Planning is key, especially weather/wind conditions. Oh yeh, then there is a major shipping channel you have to cross. Big crossings like this have a way of getting inside your head. You can either let those thoughts control you or find a way to enjoy and be in the present moment. That said, this was definitely a misery likes company kayak segment. I set my alarm (5:30am) and was the first to get up Monday morning. My husband Scott (our shuttle support) and Michael awoke to the smell of coffee. While forcing down my muslix (I’ve learned you need to fuel your body even if you are not hungry) I reviewed the current weather forecast one more time…now calling for east-southeast (ESE) – 10-15 mph, before, the forecast was completely coming from the south with light chop...still doable. The past week has been extremely foggy in the Tampa Bay area; that’s what cold Gulf of Mexico waters mixing with warm southerly flow winds do here this time of year. There was a forecast for fog, but primarily inland, so when I walked outside with my cup of coffee at the Sea Isle Motel, it was perfect! There was no sign of sunrise at this point, but the clear star-lit skies and a gentle morning breeze allowed me to exhale, just a little. The plan was to launch just after sunrise. If I have learned anything from Michael, early morning launches are definitely ‘seize the day’ makings. Early morning launches typically provide really nice conditions along with a damn nice view! As we loaded our kayaks, we were able to view the gift of a remarkable sunrise. No two are ever alike. Kayaks in position and a good forecast, Michael and I launch towards Ft. DeSoto. My heart raced and it took me a good 30 minutes to settle down into my rhythm. Initially, we decided to keep a nearby island (Passage Key NWR) in close range, until we got a sense for the bay. As we paddle by Passage Key National Wildlife Refuge (NWR) we have light chop, ESE winds as forecasted when I last checked sipping coffee...1.5 miles down, 3.5 miles to go…my heart rate is slightly lower. We can now see Ft. DeSoto in the distance and decided to aim straight for it. Michael and I know we have each other’s back if anything did happen. The NOAA chart shows the depths of our crossings…15 feet…25 feet…almost 50 feet as we approach the shipping channel. Remember, big crossings like this have a way of getting inside your head. You can either let those thoughts control you or find a way to be in the present moment. Passing the NWR island, the deeper water made light chop become 1-2 foot swells. Fog began to form and slowly creep from the mainland towards our direction and began to make our landmarks disappear. Then roughly 2 miles before we crossing the shipping channel…a cargo ship entering from the Gulf of Mexico came into view. Our 5 mph paddling speed was not a match for this massive floating piece of metal. By the time we approached the channel markers, it was entering an approaching fog now completely obscuring the Skyway Bridge to our east. As the ESE wind continued to push the fog towards the Gulf, it enshrouded the cargo ship like a muslin wrap, then completely disappeared from our view. The only evidence left was the ships horn, warning other mariners (though I think we were the only ones out there). Sound has an ominous way of traveling in fog, so with each bast of the horn getting softer, we could tell the large cargo ship was making her way up Tampa Bay. The winds continued to push the fog toward Michael & I as we approached the channel. One landmark we were focused on was the huge flag on Ft. DeSoto’s southern point…the fog soon made it disappear, but we could still see the beach. We also had enough visibility to look towards the Gulf…no more cargo ships. Picking up an already fast paddle rate, we crossed the shipping channel (it was much narrower than I expected). After crossing, my heart rate slowed and softened like the fog that was surrounding us. Less than half a mile from the southern beaches of Ft. DeSoto, we both agreed to land & take a break there. After a successful beach landing, there was a multi-level sense of relief; #1: we made it across Tampa Bay. #2: a bio break. We were also visited by a special guest (sorry, I couldn’t resist!). When kayaking, the last several miles are typically the most challenging. For Michael and I, the remaining 5 miles was a piece of cake. We hugged the southern edge of Ft. DeSoto, the paddled NW towards the boat ramp/our landing site...and the wind…and the fog completely disappeared. The photo below is Michael with the Skyway Bridge in view as the fog lifted. As we entered the back bay, Cormorants flew and landed within a foot of our kayaks…like they were looking for a hand out. With no food in hand, they would dive under our kayaks – the water was so clear you could see their long slender bodies swimming beneath us, then pop back up to the surface. It was pretty comical, so we laughed our way the last several miles. We launched at 7:35 am…and landed 3 hours and 31 minutes later…a record? Who knows. No one keeps track of that stuff. Remember, big crossings like this have a way of getting inside your head (a lead in for my next blog). You can either let those thoughts control you or find a way to be in the present moment….or have a great paddling partner with you, because misery definitely loves company.
Post Script: A very special thank you to my other great paddling partner Steve Cournoyer, for lending me his sleek Seaward Ascente kayak for the Tampa Bay crossing (while my kayak awaited rudder cable repair). Since Michael also had a Seaward, we coined our trip as the ‘Crossings of the Seawards.’
7 Comments
Daniel Ensch
2/2/2021 09:58:57 am
So cool. Stay safe!
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Dorsey DeMaster
2/2/2021 04:03:13 pm
Thank you Dan!
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Frank Oley
2/2/2021 11:20:38 am
You left me hanging on the edge of my seat wanting more! Great job Dorsey! Looking forward to drinking a few biers with you and Scott in April, until then stay safe and have fun!
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Dorsey DeMaster
2/2/2021 04:05:27 pm
Thank you Frank! I always enjoy your comments as well as support & encouragement while I'm on the trail!
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Nanci Lutz
2/2/2021 01:24:33 pm
You are such a great atoryteller! Love reading the blog of your adventures!
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Dorsey DeMaster
2/2/2021 04:08:05 pm
Thank you for the kind words Nanci! I look forward to kayaking with you again soon - right now, I'm a bit OCD/focused on the CT!
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Dan L Ensch
5/5/2021 07:44:41 am
Needing an update! Left wondering!
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AuthorDorsey DeMaster embraced kayaking after retiring from 38 years in aviation. She lives near Crystal River, Florida. Archives
August 2021
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