Exploring My Florida....

Well if you had gone kayaking with me Wednesday morning, you would have laugh yourself silly! I had on my life jacket, paddle laying on the lower step from the weathered worn gray dock boards lining the dock. Near slack tide, the brackish water moving a snail's pace came to halt. Me, lowering my Wilderness Series sixteen foot sit on top green colored kayak in the Saint John's River. Tying off the bow with the twelve foot line to the dock. I gingerly stepped in to my giant green boat, balancing gracefully with my hands on the dock, I reached out to grab my paddle. Sitting down in my perfectly balanced kayak. Then it shifted slightly under the dock, and I dug my fingers in to the dock boards, which made no difference whatsoever. The kayak slid right out from underneath me and rolled out of the boat, I went North and the kayak went South. I sat there a minute after the big splash, checking to see if I lost my portable marine band radio, my truck key, my paddle and sunglasses. After that happened, God said to me," Newt slow down, enjoy the natural splender and beauty, the Saint John's river has to offer." So I climbed back on my kayak, dripping wet, slowly spun around and began to paddle one stroke at a time. I lowered the rudder, but really not much current from the ebbing tide. At the end of the row of houses at Reddie Point, there is a boat house with brand new shiny copper roof. It looks like he exchanged all his Lincoln Pennies in his lifetime to purchased such a beautiful thing. Seeing the morning sun dance across that glimmering copper, was truly illuminating. Every corner of the roof was anointed with the ever vigilant white heron, as the yellow hues of the early morning sun pierced through the water and live oak branches at the edge of Reddie Point Park. Slowing to just float and ride the out going tide, one by one the great herons flew the respective ways. Maybe to search the shallows for small fish and crabs coming out to feed on detritus or snail eggs in the green river grass. I continued on towards shore as I noticed I had picked up five gallons of water, from my jackknife experience. Paddling towards the shore, the water clarity got better, and I could see a neighborly blue crab skirting across the tan sandy bottom. Easing my kayak to beach it, I step out and stood up for a minute. Taking in a chance to gaze across the glassy water, watching the osprey cruise high in the sky, searching for breakfast. Listening to the movement of the waves breaking on shore. Watching the Great Blue Heron stalk the finger mullet swimming by in a small school, hiding the river grass. Climbing in to my boat, pushing off with one foot dragging in the water, just thinking about the old days being on the river with Grandfather fishing or taking a walk on the shoreline looking for shells. Memories so thick, you couldn't swipe away from your face and sky so blue, you have to squint just to look at. I continued on taking in every possible thing that I could absorbed. Then I heard the magical sound! A whoosh sound that my friends, the stewards of the river make when breaking the surface for a breath of fresh air. Coming along side to see me and let me join their pod until I got to Dinosaur Island. As soon as I crossed the shoal of rocks lining the Western tip of the island, they continued on their quest for peace and fresh fish in to Old Mill Cove. Slipping under the shade of a palm tree leaning over the water, I ground the boat on rocky shoreline. Planted the paddle, swung my legs over to the right side and stood up. The water was cool, I could smell the salty saltiness in the Northeast sea breeze. Stepping forward, ever so careful so I didn't accidentally step on a stingray who was resting in the sand between to ancient limestone rocks. I move to the right , dragging my kayak up beyond the waterline and tide a bowline' knot around a tree. Took off my water logged life jacket, placed the black carbon fiber paddle on the kayak and grab my water bottle for two gulps of liquid love. Feeling rehydrated, I started for the search for ancient treasures. Sometimes they are lying in the white sand above the limestone remnants of when the channel was blasted out in the early nineteen forties. That is how Dinosaur Island was created. The treasures I speak of are sharks teeth! Great White, Snaggletooth, Mako, Tigershark, Lemon, Blacktip, Sand Tiger and if I am lucky a Crocodile tooth or two. There are always teeth from sharks who once swam the murky waters of the Saint John's River. All sharks are ambush predators, and use the coloring, sense of smell, sight and hearing to capture and kill fish. Crocodiles, and alligators are very much like sharks, but I rarely see an alligator or shark in the river. The gentle breeze picked up and is blowing about 10 to 15 knots. The mosquitos gave up on me, thank God! Walking up and down the shoreline, sharks teeth are generally black, gray or tannish colored. Usually hiding in the rocks or stuck in a tree that was probably taken down by a rain storm. Searching for about two solid hours, the total count was 57 sharks teeth, not bad for an early morning on the river. Limestone encrusted rocks with coral imprints from a animal that live millions of years ago, line the beach on the river channel side. Resting under a palm tree, I just take a minute to look around. Then I put my yellow and black life jacket, turned on my portable VHF radio to listen to the weather report. I grabbed the paddle and used it as a staff to steady myself while I walked on the slimy algae coated rocks, drying out in the mid day sun. Picking up the boat about one foot of the rocky debre, I dragged the kayak in to the water. I secured the blue mooring line just behind the left foot rest. The two feet rests control the movement of the rudder on the stern. Swinging my left leg across and plopping in my custom seat. I stroked the edge of the water with the tip of the paddle on the left and push the right pedal in to steer the boat to the right. A full stroke on the left, then the right. The kayak is moving beyond the Western tip of the island and over the shoal rocks. The shoal rocks run out to the No Wake sign for the Manatees, then turn left and run South behind the houses on the river. This protects the shoreline from Super Tanker and Cargo ship wakes. Wow, the wind kicking up something wicked out at the edge of Old Mill Cove. I can feel the out going tide reaching it peak even though the Northeast wind is pushing WestSouthwest. Breakers are 1-3 feet coming down the cove and breaking over the bow of my boat. Just ahead I see a pod of baby dolphins with their mother teaching them how to hunt the mullet in the river. I followed them and tried to stay on top of the shoal where the waves weren't as big. Once I had turned the corner and headed South towards my friends house, the paddle was significantly easier. Casually paddling under the docks, a manatee raised up to see drifting by. After I pulled the kayak and all my gear up on the dock, I poured the rest of my fresh water on my head. I laid flat on the dock in the shade a couple of minutes. Kayak Newt!"