Scenarios: The Fog

August-September 1995

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.

Paddling the Orange County Coast

by Bob Meyers

I'm late again. I was supposed to start paddling with George, Herb, and Ed at 7:30, but it was already after 8, and I'm just putting my boat in the water. Uh oh, looks like heavy fog is rolling in-where did I leave the compass? I'm not going to pack it in a dry bag in the forward hatch again.... though I'm late, I know I really must turn around and land to get the compass out.

I've never paddled in fog before. I wonder if I'll be able to find George. Did they turn around because of the fog? It doesn't matter. I hope I find them, but paddling alone has its own appeal.

I feel a twinge of nervousness as I leave the breakwater of Newport Bay behind me in the fog, nothing distinct ahead of me-though I can still see the sun. I take out my whistle, and wonder if I should blow it every once in a while, but I soon grow tired of that. I keep it handy, though.

The sea is very calm today, more so than I've ever seen it before along this stretch of the coast. This is comforting in the fog, especially as I'm planning on a surf landing at Laguna Beach. I hear the surf beating on the rocks and the traffic on Pacific Coast Highway to my left as I head east southeast alone, into the hazy sun.

Rocky points loom to my left, and I decide I can head a little further offshore to my right. The silhouette of another kayaker appears. As I come closer, I see it is a Sea Lion like mine, but in red instead of green. I call to him, and ask if he's seen a group of kayakers out here-yes, about 20 minutes ahead, heading for Laguna Beach. That must be George's group.

The tide is very high, and I paddle close to the reef at Reef Point, about halfway along. I can't resist-the waves are nearly covering the outer reef, and I've got to try paddling over it. The wave rushes over, and I hurry to cross the rock before the wave passes, but no-my plastic kayak settles on the rock, getting a few more scratches. Another wave quickly picks me up and I'm on my way once more.

I stay close to shore as I near Laguna Beach-I've only been here once before, and I don't want to pass my destination. I see people on shore, and I wonder what they think of the dark shadow of a kayaker in the mist.

Landing is straightforward, and I pull the boat up on the boardwalk and onto the grass. Just a few yards down the boardwalk was washed out by the heavy winter rains last week, but it's still intact here. Sure enough, there's George, Herb, and Ed, just packing up to go back, amazed that I found them in the fog. They know I'm usually late but often catch up, and had initially mistaken the kayaker in the red Sea Lion for me in the fog.

They graciously wait while I run into Starbucks for a cup of coffee and a bagel, and I end up munching on the donut holes Ed brought too.

Ed's not paddling back; he did a car shuttle, so it's just Herb, George and me on the way back. I'm glad for the company. George is navigating, but we keep getting too close to the rocky shore-so I decide to start following my compass too, and I head a little farther out to sea from the others.

It's not long before Herb has a problem. He really wants to get to shore soon. We paddle towards the shore, and as he rides a small wave in, he sees just what he is looking for-an outhouse right in front of him on the beach. He would have had a difficult time offshore, wearing a wetsuit in a Betsie Bay Greenland kayak.

I didn't feel like landing-I was happy on the water, after 3-4 weeks without really getting out. Soon George and Herb launched again, but not before scaring a state park ranger who saw them wearing PFDs and thought they had swum ashore after their boat had sank in the fog!

We put a little more space between us and the shore as we tried to cut across to the breakwater. There are few other boats out today, and they are traveling slowly-there's still a lot of junk floating in the water after the recent rainstorms, some of it quite sizeable. Surprisingly, I decide we're probably at less risk of being run over by a mad power boater than in clear conditions.

The end of the breakwater appears, directly in front of my bow. I'm both surprised and pleased at how well dead reckoning has worked for us, at least in calm conditions without currents. Still, it does feel good to see the breakwater loom out of the fog right where I am looking for it.

The next Sunday arrives, and George has arranged another paddle for food down to Laguna Beach. I'm on time for a change, and George just about falls over when he sees me. The fog is much worse this weekend-there was moderate to heavy fog during my whole hour-long drive to the beach, and the surf has recently been quite high, too-several people have been washed off of breakwaters to their death in the last few days. Still, the surf is predicted to be lower today, so we'll probably be okay.

This time we have a large group-7 people in 6 kayaks. Just as we pass the breakwater, as we are about to head into the fog, Herb realizes he'd left one of his hatch covers on the beach! He goes back to go get it, and the double goes with him (they had a compass) while the rest of us continue onward.

Though the fog was denser than the last weekend, we are a little more experienced and confident. We paddle along fairly slowly, waiting for Herb and the double to catch up with us-they're all fast paddlers. We stop to listen for them and blow whistles occasionally. Eventually we hear them and join up together once more.

About 4 miles out, a small sea lion-a female I suppose, though maybe it was a juvenile-swims up to us. She swims all around us, peeking out of the water to watch us and occasionally leaping completely out of the water. If we paddle fast, she swims just in front of the lead kayaks, cutting back and forth in the water and making little dolphin leaps, but if we slow down, she goes back to the last kayaks-Ed in his sit-on-top has a little trouble keeping up with the rest of us. Sometimes she swims directly under our kayaks, and we can see her turn back and forth in the water-wow. We're all enchanted by this wild animal who chooses to play with us. Eventually the conversation turns to seal hunting, considering our boats, and she disappears shortly thereafter. But it was time to head in towards Laguna Beach anyway.

The surf is a little rough, but not too bad. Ed, on the sit-on-top (a Prism), isn't paying a whole lot of attention though-the waves in front of him are fairly low, but there's a big one behind him! Herb had gone in first and is trying to direct him, but Ed is oblivious, though we can hear Herb yelling from where we wait beyond the surf zone. He sees it just before it hits, and we see his kayak appear atop the wave, upside down. He makes it in okay after that. Ed later admits he wasn't paying attention, and we are all reminded once again not to take the ocean for granted.

The rest of us make it in okay, and we have a leisurely brunch in the restaurant on the beach. The waitress seems pleased to be serving customers who arrived by sea-it's a little unusual, even for Laguna Beach.

We launch again without incident, although some of us get a little wet. Navigation is straight forward-this is the fourth time we've done this stretch in the fog now. I often paddle a little ahead of the others; I enjoy the solitude of the fog, and I don't have to go far to be nearly out of sight.

George is excited. "A whale!" How exciting, first the sea lion, and now a whale! I look back, and see something in the fog-but is that a whale? We paddle closer, and see an odd but familiar sight-a small group of sea lions in the water, waving their flippers high in the air. In the fog it does look a little like the tail flukes of a whale.

When we see the breakwater again, several of us decide to have a little fun with Eskimo rolling. Herb does a couple, then George's friend visiting from Boston. He's amazed at the warmth of the water-mid fifties is a good deal warmer than the thirties back home! I do a couple of on-side rolls, and then I try an extended paddle off-side roll. I usually use the extended paddle position for my first roll on each side for the extra leverage. I'm not getting it quite right-I'm using a bit too much arm strength too early-and then there is a sickeningly loud CRRRAAACCKKK.... I guess I used a little too much leverage. My wooden Greenland-style paddle has snapped. I'm so startled that I don't have the composure to finish the roll with the remains of my paddle. I need to work on that-what good is a roll if you can only do it when you expect to do it?

Rolling stops after my rescue-we only have one spare paddle along-and we return to shore.

Afterwards I stop by Southwind Kayak Center and see Joanne, who had sold me the paddle. She says she'd never seen anyone break a Greenland paddle before. I'm not sure whether to feel proud of my uniqueness or just unlucky. I show off my broken paddle to everyone I can find anyway.

I speak to the manufacturer later though. Apparently that particular model paddle-a Betsie Bay Esquimeaux II-is not very sturdy, and he's heard of several breaks. He says he doesn't really recommend it for extended paddle rolls-now somebody tells me. It's kind of a cheap introductory Greenland paddle, so I want to replace it with a stronger one. Unfortunately, no one seems to have the stronger paddles in stock right now, so I'm back to my old Sea Feather till then-but it's not the same.

___________

A week later, I'm still wishing my old paddle was intact, but I'm doing all right. As I land in the surf, just after sunset, I miscalculate my landing, and a wave gets me. I manage to roll up-my first roll after an involuntary capsize. I'm happy about that, until a few days later when I get a sinus infection-I hadn't put my nose clip on for the landing, and had ended up with a nose full of salt water. The ocean still got me after all.o

Bob Myers is a member of California Kayak Friends