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Finding myself on the Coast of Maine
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Larry’s Kayaking Odyssey Begins
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It didn’t take me long to fall in love with the ocean off the coast of Maine. It was so different from the ocean I was familiar with off the coasts of New Jersey, Virginia and North Carolina where I had visited and swam many times throughout my life. The first time I saw the ocean from Maine it was like I was seeing it for the first time, and was not the beaches that attracted me. I was told that even though Maine had one of the longest shore lines of any state only about four miles of it were sandy. The remainder could best be described as rugged. The water was cold and the wind coming ashore pushed large waves that crashed against the rocks. I was drawn to it. It excited me, and I wanted to explore it and the thousands of islands that lay within sight but out of reach without a boat.
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One weekend while I was admiring the beautiful sailboats in Rockland harbor, a kayaker came shore. He left his kayak on the grass and walked into one of the restaurants overlooking the harbor for lunch. I couldn’t resist. I went over to see his boat. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. You could tell that he was traveling a long distance. There was all kind of gear strapped to the deck – a compass, a bilge pump and a nautical chart. It was gorgeous. I wanted one instantly. I knew that it would give me the access to the ocean and its uninhabited islands that I had been so longing to explore. The very next weekend I drove to Portland to check out a kayak shop not far from the harbor. I needed to talk to an expert before venturing any further. I had so many questions. They weren’t busy that day and the owner of the shop spent a lot of time answering questions and showing me different models that would fit my size and purposes. Somehow I didn’t order one. I told him that I had to think about it and more importantly talk to my wife first. The next Saturday found me back in his shop. He smiled when he saw me walk in the door. He knew I was hooked. He said that he had his kayak on his car and asked if I wanted to take it for a little spin in the harbor. It was the same model that he was recommending for me and it would give me a chance to try it out and see if I really liked the sport before buying. It was the fastest I ever said “yes” to anything. Before I knew it, I was down at the rocky beach with a kayak, paddle and life preserver.
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It is hard to describe the first sensation as you push off and feel the water support your weight for the first time. It was a sensation that I enjoyed every time it happened. To push off and glide silently out on the surface of the water while watching the ocean bottom drop away out of sight gave the same sensation as taking flight in a plane. Looking out into the harbor I knew exactly where I wanted to go – the closest island, where I was told there were the ruins of an abandoned fort built to protect the mainland during the War of 1812.
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The kayak was effortless to paddle. It sliced through each wave sending the spray back across the deck to wash my face. It was bracing.
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Half way out to the island I almost had a collision. There were no other boats close by and I was perfectly relaxed, totally enjoying the moment when paddling directly across my path about fifteen feet ahead of me was a mother duck and her six ducklings in row behind her as if they holding onto a string. They were completely unafraid of the kayak. It was as if I was a natural part of her sea world and that was just fine. She hardly even looked at me, but remained intent on making her own crossing safely with her little ones in tow. Soon I was making landfall on the stony beach of Fort Gorges Island. It was the fist of many island landings that were to come. I placed an order for my own kayak that day, a 17’ Eddyline “Wind Dancer.”
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From that moment on until we left Maine, I spent every moment I could out on the water with my new best friend – my kayak. Ilene used to joke that my car was always easy to find in parking lots. It was the one with the red kayak on top.
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Maine Island Trail Association.
Go to www.mita.org for logo and great pictures.
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