River Access Rights

Credit: Steve Dunleavy

There has been a lot of discussion, argument, even court battles over who owns the rivers, who has the right to gain access to them, and who has the right to claim them as personal property and deny their use to others. Attempts have been made to post rivers with no trespassing signs, string cables and storm fencing across them, and even sabotage their use by stringing barbed wire both above and below the surface with total disregard for the risk of injury or death of those who try to float past the obstructions. Canoe & Kayak Magazine published an article about a paddler that dared to force his rights of public access, and ended up being sued and taken to court. The editors invited anyone with a view on this problem, that they would like to express, should email them to:

letters@canoekayak.com.

Brian, “Capt’n of the “O” Dark 30”, posted the National River Law on his blog. It can be accessed with the Favorite Blogs link in the right margin, and by checking his July 19 post. It is probably something you’d even want to copy and keep accessible.

Polar Warming: Fact

Probably the greatest thing that distinguishes we humans from other species is not our opposing thumbs as much as our proclivity for arguing---about anything. It is this reason that has had me wrestling for several days over how to present this topic. This is not about politics, although many tend to make anything political. This is about nature and our planet---enjoying it and protecting it.

One of the topics most likely to get an argument going is global warming. Whether you want to blame the issue on political agenda, seasonal or cyclic fluctuation, a conspiracy, mere attempts to gain funding, apocalyptic hysterics, or whatever, with the accumulated evidence built over time, we have to appear insane to deny facts that are as obvious as the sun rising in the east. To find answers to the global warming issue, we need only go to the polar caps. The polar regions are to the earth what physical vital signs are to us and our overall health. For the truth, rather than rely on groups that visit the polar regions for a couple months and leave, or politicians who can gather information and statistics that can be selectively slanted to prove any given point of view, we need to seek out those that have observed polar trends in weather and nature for decades. They are the ones in the position to give the best unbiased report on conditions, trends, and apparent consequences. While scientists and politicians will still argue over the ultimate long-term consequences of global warming, like the sun rising in the east, the obvious facts should be---well, obvious.

In their Oct.,2010, issue, Cruising World printed an article by one of their favorite cruising and writing teams, Deborah Shapiro and Rolf Bjelke, of the 40-foot ketch Northern Light. The article, “Home, Sweet Home,” was about their return to a peninsula on Antarctica that had been home for an entire winter a decade before. Their observations on the changes that have occurred there, which are on-going, are clear, indisputable, and scary, and their words need to reach as wide an audience as possible. When I wrote Cruising World for permission to reprint just the last couple columns of the article, I made the point that I felt paddlers are probably even more closely tied to nature than sailors, and that you too would be interesting in this report. Cruising World sent my inquiry directly to Shapiro and Bjelke, who graciously consented to the reprint.

Rolf Bjelke

Deborah Shapiro

To give you an idea of their credentials, Deborah Shapiro and Rolf Bjelke have sailed Northern Light since 1976. They have done several circumnavigations, and have spent extended periods in high latitudes, both Arctic and Antarctic, covering 230,400 miles. Between 1982 and 84, they sailed to both the Arctic and Antarctic. In 1992 they wintered-over in Antarctica, and then in 1994-95, they wintered-over in the Arctic. Between 2000 and 2010 they completed two circumnavigations while again visitng numerous parts of Antarctica and the islands of the Southern Ocean. They have written several books, including Letters from the Sea, Northern Light, Time On Ice, and the latest, Pearls Around the White Continent, is nearing completion.

With their permission:

“On a windy, snowy, low-visibility day, we finally reach Hovgaard Island. Standing on a hill next to our winter-over anchorage, I turn 360-degrees to reacquaint myself with the magnificent alpine scenery. As the exhilaration of arrival wears off, it dawns on us how dramatically the landscape has changed. There’s a lot less snow and ice than when we left in 1992. And the snow line is much higher. “Look, Rolf,” I say pointing across the bare rocks. “That pool over there stayed frozen when we were here. And the area around it was always snow covered. We skied here year-round!”

“Rolf doesn’t answer me right away. He closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly in disbelief. Then he remarks softly, “Remember what an issue drinking water was for us? Well, no one needs to melt snow or ice any more?” I touch his arm, and we both turn our gaze to the melt water running in rivulets and streams down the rocks.”

“Neighboring Pleneau Island is also remarkably different. Its south side used to slant toward sea level, and the slant provided ice caves to examine and ice walls to climb. That face is now vertical. Our playground has evaporated, as have the snowcaps on the small adjacent islets. Two ice tongues that slanted away from the top and had provided ski access are now gone. These changes represent the loss of millions of cubic yards of snow.”

“After scouting around the island group, we realize that both animal and bird life have changed substantially. The gentoo-penguin population” (preferring ice-free areas and nesting on bare stone, grass or moss-covered areas) “has exploded. The rookery that covered a corner of the island now rings 50 percent of the coast. And due to less snow cover, gentoos now nest on rocky areas and at higher altitudes than before. In contrast, the cormorant colony has dwindled, and although the few remaining adult birds look healthy, their nests are of remarkably poor quality, compared with those we saw last time. And their chicks are in poor shape. No surprise, they beg and beg for food, yet remain unfed. And the biggest surprise: There’s moss growing on the islands’ northern slopes! It hits us that the Antarctic Peninsula has started to resemble the South Shetlands of 15 years ago.”

“Back then, when we wintered at Hovgaard, we sent observations to various scientists working at Palmer Station. When we now send an email to ecologist Bill Fraser describing the changes in bird populations, he replied that our observations parallel theirs and that, indeed the recent changes in the state of the peninsula are staggering. He sums them up: glaciers retreating, ice shelves disappearing, air and water temperatures up, krill biomass” (the foundation of the food chain) “down, Adelie penguin populations collapsing, cormorant and chin-strap penguin populations down, but gentoo penguin numbers increasing---up to 6,000 percent near Palmer Station. The conclusion? The entire ecosystem along the Antarctic Peninsula is being transformed---from a polar to a subpolar one.”



Josh Underway

Josh is doing a great job so far, and making friends all over the place.  Note that I have added his blog (titled Paddle for Wells) to the Favorite Blogs link in the right margin, so you can access his blog directly from here.  His fish count is zero, but he has posted some nice pictures that he's shot.

Josh Tart to Push Off

Josh Tart is to be starting his 6,000 miles circumnavigation of the Eastern U.S. tomorrow from Cincinnati.  You can keep track of this progress at:
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000526070816#!/profile.php?id=100000527175475
His blog is at: http://www.paddleforwells.com/daily-blog.html

What Are Your Odds of Rescue?

Credit: noaanews

In a recent SPOT newsletter, they covered the subject of how to get rescued from the perspective of the rescuer, and what you can do to improve yours odds of rescue and help them arrive sooner. The first is to get rid of the 911 Syndrome.

I taught sailing, seamanship, and navigation for 29 years. The hardest thing I found to fight against was the expectation of instant remedy. No matter what went wrong, there was someone else charged with the responsibly of correcting our mistakes, compensating for our shortcomings, and risking their lives to save us from our own stupidity. I started calling it the 911 Syndrome. It suggested that we didn’t need to learn pilotage, because we had Loran. We didn’t need to learn celestial, because we had GPS. We didn’t need to worry about survival, because someone would rescue us before we had a chance to get cold or hungry. Since we would be rescued almost before we got wet, we didn’t need to worry about liferafts, EPIRBS or SPOTS, PFD’s, or rescue beacons. For most people, the thought of self-sufficiency never crossed their minds, and if anything went wrong, it was someone else’s fault. It never occurred to many that the reason such equipment or training exists is because people have died to show the need for it. The bottom line is that we should be able to save ourselves without putting others at risk, or if help is actually needed, make our recovery as quick and safe as possible for all concerned. In short, WE are the ones responsible for our survival and rescue.

Here are some of the tips they offered:

1) Make your SPOT profile as complete as possible. Be sure it includes the description of your boat, your skill level, what survival and rescue equipment you have on board, and your experience level. If you get separated from your boat, what survival equipment will you have on your person?

(2) If it is a long trip, modify the profile to include a float plan---tentative schedule, route,

the contact person, who else is in the party, any special medical needs, what your check-in or reporting schedule is and from where, etc.

(3) The contact person should have as detailed an itinerary on the trip as you have, equipment list, full bio info on all persons in the party, etc.

(4) Realize that a rescue takes time to arrange. You must be prepared to make-do on your own for at least several hours to maybe a day or so, depending on how remote you are or how easily you can be reached.

(5) In addition to a SPOT, have a means of communication to converse with rescuers, such as SAT phone or VHF.

(6) In spite of the technological advances we are accustomed to, plan for the possibility that the EPIRB or SPOT may malfunction or land features may adversely affect transmission and make it impossible for the signal to get out. In that case will you

have a signal mirror, survival blanket and other means to survive the conditions, etc.?

(7) They can’t find a needle in a haystack when the haystack keeps moving. If you don’t know exactly where you can find help without transmitting a call for help, then once the call has been made, pick a clear spot, and stay there. You are a very small spot in a large wilderness, so do whatever you can to make yourself visible.  

Lastly, don’t panic until you get the bill.  In some cases, we may be charged for the cost of the rescue, especially if the emergency call was made necessary because of poor planning, preparedness, or just plain stupidity on our part.  Since this may run into tens of thousands of dollars in some cases, there is indeed a very selfish reason for being well prepared.  If there is no thought for the safety of the rescuers, maybe we can find that we are concerned about personal bankrupcy.

Waters Less Traveled

Little has changed here in Oklahoma---drying lakes and waterways and deadly temperatures and heat indices. The only thing that has changed is that the heat dome has spread east and north, so now heat indices of 110-115 degrees reach clear to the Canadian border. With the extreme drought, our house foundation has buckled so that three interior doors won’t close, and the back door is completely jammed in its frame and can’t be opened. It hasn’t been serviceable since we returned home a month ago.

My way of handling the conditions is the same as my approach with panhandlers---ignore them and they’ll go away. So my latest effort at ignoring reality was to pick up Doug Alderson’s Waters Less Traveled: Exploring Florida’s Big Bend Coast. (Univ. Press of Florida, 2005, 130 pp.) We met Doug while in St. Marks, FL, and got the chance to paddle with him on the Wakulla River. (see May 16 post) This is the first of eight books written by Doug, and covers an exploratory paddle he and Liz Sparks did while setting up the Florida Paddling Trail. The trip takes them around the Big Bend of Florida’s panhandle from the Aucilla River to Cedar Key. The book takes the reader through Florida’s human and natural history, the impact of industry, logging, and tourism on the region, the history of smuggling along the coast, and brings to life old stories about people and towns that have come and gone over the last couple hundred years. For more information on Doug’s other books, visit http://www.dougalderson.net/

Distant Fires

Credit: amazon.com

For most people further north, winter is the reading season, the time that our paddling is done through the pages of someone else’s adventure. Here in Oklahoma, I find myself hibernating through the days when the thermometer is bumping 110-degrees. By heading back to the four-page Paddlers’ Reading List I posted here on the blog last February, I selected this armchair companion. Distant Fires , by Scott Anderson (Pfeifer-Hamilton Pub., Duluth,MN, 1990) is a short book of 156 pages. It is a story about a nearly 2,000 mile trip from Duluth, MN, to Hudson Bay by way of Lake Superior, the Grand Portage, Lake of the Woods, the Winnipeg River, Lake Winnipeg, Gods and Hayes Rivers to Hudson Bay. Scott planned the trip for 1987 when he was 22 and a college junior. Within five minutes of setting out on their first day’s run, they had to turn for shore only to be swamped and have all their gear soaked. Such is the adventure of paddling. Miles weren’t coming easily either. It was about day five or six when they reached Tofte. A man asked where they had come from, and Scott answered that they had started in Duluth, to which the man responded that he thought that was a pretty good day’s run. They were crushed.

Accounts of such trips tend to bring out real-life situations, like maintaining harmony with a paddling partner for long periods when they never get more than a few feet away, reaching consensus on who makes camp, prepares meals, cleans up, whether you stop for lunch or press on, whether time is for paddling or if miles gained should be traded for fishing time. You get a chance to share rare experiences, like living with the Cree Indians, watching the Northern Lights over God’s Lake, or traveling a week or two without seeing another human being, but rather moose and caribou. For a $2 transfer fee from another library, the book kept me company for a few days, and kept my interest in paddling alive.



How Dry Is It?

This is a copy of an e.mail I received today from a fellow Oklahoma drought victim.  The weather service reports we are at the same drought severity as during the Dust Bowl years.  The only thing that prevents a repeat of those times is the changes that have occurred in agricultural practices.  The eastern part of the state continues to receive precipitation, but we remain in extreme drought. 
How DRY Is It in Oklahoma???
A buddy out of McAlester said he'd killed a mosquito that was carrying a canteen.
A man in Lawton said the chicken farmers were giving the chickens
crushed ice to keep them from laying hard-boiled eggs.
In Ada, they caught a 20 lb catfish that had ticks on it!
But just this week, in Okmulgee, a fire hydrant was seen bribing a dog.
It's so dry in Oklahoma that the Baptists are starting to baptize by sprinkling,
the Methodists are using wet-wipes,
the Presbyterians are giving out rain-checks,
and the Catholics are praying for the wine to turn back into water.
Now THAT's Dry!!!

Oklahoma's Disappearing Water

Lakes are much more beautiful with water in them.

If paddling in Oklahoma wasn’t hard enough, even the potential destinations are disappearing. Grand Lake of the Cherokees, in Northeast Oklahoma, is the third-largest lake in Oklahoma, exceeded by Texoma and Eufaula Lakes. I wouldn’t expect such a huge body of water to experience such water quality problems, but the lack of rainfall and exceedingly hot weather has had a serious impact. The lake was closed over the Fourth of July holiday due to blue-green algae blooms and high toxin levels. Several other lakes are being tested for similar problems. Beaches on Arcadia lake have been closed due to e.coli levels in the swim areas. The rest of the lake is reported to be fine. I didn’t understand how high e.coli levels were a health risk on one side of the swim area ropes, but not if you were skiing or swimming off a boat on the other side of the ropes.

Water levels are becoming another problem. The best places to find wildlife and more interesting paddling are in the pools and feeder streams. Water levels are dropping enough to make such areas inaccessible. The conservation pool on Chouteau Lake, another being tested for high toxin levels, is only at 44% of its pool depth. Altus is down 73%, Kemp is down 54%, Canton 33%, and so on. I try not to even mess with one down more than 5%, so paddling options are also drying up.



Planning Pains

Paddling with Fred Borg and Doug Alderson on the Wakulla River, FL.

Planning a trip should be part of the fun. When we were sailing, we approached planning from two different points of view. I doubt paddling is any different. When we were looking forward to a cruise, we would spend months trying to anticipate what conditions we might encounter, what history we might enjoy and learn, how we would handle provisioning, what charts we would need, what emergencies we might need to prepare for, and the list went on. We’d make imaginary cruises through the charts, and thus often discover a lapse in coverage, or a harbor or reef-studded area where a more detailed chart might be needed. Conversely, the other approach would be getting ready when circumstances demanded having the kit ready for departure within a number of hours, or just a few days. When we did vessel delivery work, this situation usually arose when a delivery needed to be done on short order. Fortunately, our cruising experience pretty much taught us what we needed to have for a safe and successful trip, so if we needed to be on a boat 500 miles away within 48 hours, we always seemed to manage to do it. Paddling, however, seems to have some unique contradictions. One of these contradictions is really the subject of this post. If anyone has solutions to offer, I’m all ears.

One of the first paddling safety rules is to never paddle alone. If you were to interpret that literally, it would mean I should never go paddling. My experience has been, at least here in Western Oklahoma, the chances of finding another paddler available to share the trip are on a par with locating a commercial igloo contractor. If you don’t go alone, you don’t go---period. I’ll have to admit from the start that I’m partly responsible for the dearth of prospective paddlers. Both for safety and enjoyment, I like to go paddling when 95% of the populace is at work, so I plan trips during mid-week and never during a holiday. Still, you would think there would be someone with similar interests. For safety, this greatly reduces the likelihood that I’ll get run down by an inebriated power-boatman. From the point of view of enjoyment, the solitude and quiet enhances the appreciation of nature, increases the selection of campsites that aren’t next to a drunken or drugged crowd that riot until three in the morning, and free me from simulated whitewater created by a parade of bass boats, ski boats, and personal watercraft. Another aspects that favors paddling in company is companionship. Nothing augments the enjoyment of an experience more than sharing it with someone else. The best days, when I was paddling the Gulf Coast, were when I was joined by Jim, Fred, Doug, Paul, Gus and Don, for short paddles. The people you meet are always the best part of any trip. The time shared adds to the experience, takes the tedium out of the constant paddling, and adds the opportunity to learn skills and techniques that others have acquired. I’ve tried posting trips on paddling.net, Oklahoma Outdoor Network, meetup groups, and while I say it tongue in cheek, there seems to be more and more truth in my assertion that water hasn’t been invented in Oklahoma yet. That isn’t true in Eastern Oklahoma, which looks more like Arkansas than the Oklahoma we know here in the Dust Bowl, but the search here has brought no apparent interest. It means going 1,500 miles, but it seems that only way to find a paddling partner would be to go back to Florida.

Happy Fourth

Here's the flag that started it all---the one watched by Francis Scott Key as he penned the Star Spangled Banner.  Thanks to all who have endeavored to preserve our freedoms and this great nation.  Enjoy the holiday.

Sometimes It's Just Luck

Sometimes you’re lucky; sometimes you’re good. Sometimes lucky trumps good. We were at Little Pee Dee State Park. We had taken a walk through the Beaver Pool Nature Trail and had nearly beaten ourselves simple while smacking yellow biting flies. I found my best tool was a large bandanna tied around my head and hanging down my neck. I have a hat made like that, and have found it to be one of my greatest paddling tools, even better than a big straw hat. It has a long skirt, for want of a better word, that goes all the way around the hat, even covering the temples, and hangs down onto my shoulders. It has proven great for sun protection, which was its anticipated function, but has been just as great for bugs. This walk, however, had been impromptu, and I had come without the hat, so was making do. As we finished the walk through the woods, I saw a fresh, delicate thistle blossom. I set the camera for a close macro shot, and knelt down within inches of the thistle. Just then a butterfly flew into my field of vision, flitted around and about the blossom as I took pictures. It totally ignored my presence as though I didn’t exist. It was the perfect addition to the picture that I couldn’t have possibly planned. And it was just luck.

Savannah, Pt. 7 & Last

The last three pictures are from Savannah’s City Market. It was the hub of business in the city. Everything was bought and sold there. However, like the cotton warehouses, it has now become a tourism mecca, from surrey, wagon, carriage and trolley rides about the historic district, to streetside cafes and restaurants, places where you can buy symbols of the South’s past, like parasols, to galleries for art and custom jewelry.

If you enjoy something a little more romantic than a trolley, try the

horse and carriages.

The streetside cafes.  It was unusually hot for so early in the year, so the

cafes kept fine misters going in front of fans to cool customers.

If you would like to feel like Scarlett O'Hara (remember the good ol' days

when this caption would apply only to the ladies), there is lace and even a fancy

parasol to complete the ensemble.



Heat and Destruction

A sunrise on a nicer day at sea.

The heat has been all but unbearable since we returned. We’ve been hitting 106 to 109, and yesterday hit 110. If the heat wasn’t enough, the 25-35 mph wind turns it into a blast furnace.  We tried to work on the RV trailer, but it was so hot inside that the air conditioner kept tripping the breaker, even with the thermostat set at 90. To keep the sun from destroying the rubber roof and everything else, we finally decided to empty the last two-months’ worth of supplies, and just return the trailer to the storage shed. We’ll bring it back and do the thorough cleaning it needs when the temperature drops to a reasonable level.

For those not from this area, I need to try putting heat here in perspective. I vividly remember pouring a molten lead keel for a boat when it was 110, and it felt no where near as hot as here the last couple days. On that occasion, I had to tie a bandanna around my neck and forehead to keep my sweat from dribbling from my nose and chin and into the molten lead. The instantaneous vaporization of the sweat to steam would cause a lead-splattering explosion. It was a surprise when I checked the thermometer and found I had been doing the hottest job on what would for the Mid-Atlantic area probably be the hottest day of the year. Yesterday, I was surprised when I looked and found the mercury wasn’t between 115 and 120. Wind chill is calculated on temperature and wind speed. Heat index ignores wind and uses a formula with temperature and humidity. When a dry wind of 110 is hitting you at up to 35 mph, plants desiccate and the skin burns---in the shade.

After dropping the trailer off, we decided to go down to Canton Lake to see the damage that resulted from the tornado that occurred while we were gone. The devastation can only be defined as being complete. One cannot be other than amazed that no one was killed in the storm. Everyone in the campground had run for the shower and restroom facilities where they clung to each other as the building was torn apart. Only a couple walls of the building remained, and yet everyone survived. Trees were twisted, snapped, wrung off at the ground, with pieces carried miles across the lake to the opposite shore. There are piles of steel made up of camper and RV trailer chassis, while others are still wrapped around tree trunks so tightly they cannot be removed to the piles. One area is reserved for collected refrigerators, washers, dryers and other appliances. Beds, couches, and cushions fill both roll-off dumpsters and ravines along the shoreline. Concrete picnic tables are pulled out of the ground or pulled apart. Piles of re-rod and concrete represent where buildings once stood. To both save building materials as well as clean up the debris, cinderblocks, wall, flowerbed, and walkway pavers have been collected into neatly stacked squares of like materials. Sometimes the distinction between what was saved and what was destroyed was mind-boggling. A spare tire and wheel that had been bolted to the rear bumper of a camper was ripped off by shearing all the steel bolts, carried in the air across the lake before being dropped into the woods. The vinyl spare tire cover that was held to the tire by only an elastic band, remained in place and was undamaged.

Savannah, Pt. 6

As you saw in the Factors' Walk, in the public squares, and in the courtyards, as here, there seems to be as much wrought iron in Savannah as in New Orleans.  There is one home that even had a miniaturized reproduction built around the home of the fences, posts, and gates of Buckingham Palace and Hyde Park.  History, art, and architecture all combine in a sensory storm that sweeps the entire city and can't help but amaze even those who never imagined themselves students of architecture.  There are sweeping staircases that approach the home's raised front porch so women could ascend one side while the men climbed the opposite side.  Why?  At that time it was considered unseemly for a gentleman to see a lady's ankles as he followed her up the steps.  There was the elevated balcony from which Lafayette addressed the people of the city with a lengthy speech.  He spoke English, but like any Frenchman, he elected to address them in French.  Not understanding a word, they didn't know whether to applaud or protest when he finished, so they merely nodded and walked away.  Many people still don't know that at one time you could order anything from a Sears catalog, including entire houses, which would arrive with every stick of lumber, nail, screw, and directions.  One beautiful two-story home in the historical section of the city had all the windows installed upside-down.  The sills are at the top, and the ornately sculptured trim pieces at the bottom.  Personal flair, or an inability to follow directions? 

When we delivered boats up and down the coast and back and forth across the ocean, our travels took us by Savannah and Charleston more times than I could count.  This was the first time we had a chance to see the city.  I'd recommend it highly.  From a practical point, I'd recommend spring, maybe even early spring.  The narrow streets and close city plat design leave little room for air movement except on the riverfront and city squares.  If it's hot, it gets really hot.  In any event, you don't want to miss it.

     

End Notes

Now that we're home, we can share some of the pictures that AT&T made

impossible before.  Jean can attract friends anywhere.  This one came out to

meet her at Little Pee Dee State Park, Dillon, S.C.

Since our physical ailments played a part in our story, I should comment on those. Jean’s left hand continued to bother her more and more in spite of wearing a hand and wrist brace. It got to the point of being unbearable, so she visited a doctor in Lewes, DE, who diagnosed it as tendonitis. An anti-inflammatory was prescribed, and while it helped, it has not solved the problem, so she is now visiting the doctor here at home. When I went to the doctor about my right shoulder, I was told that I may have a bit of a tear in the rotator cuff, but there’s no way of determining that with any finality one way or the other. An x-ray will not show soft tissue damage, and the insurance company will not authorize an MRI unless I have first failed a physical therapy regiment, and of course physical therapy was impossible while traveling. I also received an anti-inflammatory, which seems to help, but again the pain returns if I stress it. After the 18-mile paddle a couple days ago, it was sore when I finished, and all that night, but it seemed much recovered by the next morning. I asked the doctor how I should approach the paddling once I finish the anti-inflammatory prescription, and was told I should then go and paddle until I definitely tear something. It all comes down to trying to work with old gear, or old body parts.

This was the beaver pond at Little Pee Dee.  We found no beaver, but drove a five-foot

snake away from its hole.  It does show the water lillies in bloom.

 

We arrived home last night at 9 pm and crashed. Today was a bit of a slow recovery day. The heat of 106 degrees yesterday was grueling, and Jean was glad to get the birds home alive. It’s almost as hot again today, and we’re looking at triple digits all this week.
Things that are used daily don’t all of a sudden like being ignored, so we returned from our two-month tour to find some things rebelling. The back door to the house wouldn’t open, the flapper on one toilet tank dried out and won’t seal, and the coffee pot made half a pot this morning and died. That hurt worst of all.
Once we get the trailer emptied and cleaned, it will be back to planning some more trips.

Warriors' Path

I-81 bridges cross Patrick Henry Lake

Monday evening we were in Warriors' Path State Park, just inside the eastern state line of Tennessee, at exit 59.  This trip brought us down through some of the area ravaged by this season’s tornadoes.  The damage was widespread and extensive, from destroyed houses, some where rebuilding has begun, house and business roofs covered with the familiar blue tarps, hillsides with twisted off trees, blown out highway and commercial signs, and so on.  When we

arrived at the campsite, while looking for a spot for the night, we found a camper that had been cut in two by a tree.  Its owner was in the camper at the time, but was uninjured.   He is trying to make do at present by still living in the forward half of the camper, and it was only about a 20-footer to begin with.

Patrick Henry Lake, at Warriors’ Path State Park, was formed by damming the south fork of the Holston River.  There is a dam at either end, and the lake measures close to ten miles from one dam to the other.  It is in a deep ravine with sheer walls of rock, some running 200 ft. in height.  The water is clear, and a beautiful color of green.  I was on the lake for seven hours, and covered 18.2 miles while circumnavigating along the shoreline.  I met six other paddlers, two canoes, two SOT’s, and two kayaks, and had the chance to speak with four of the paddlers.  The lake is home to a wide array of wildlife.  I saw two deer, which stood watching me watch them, many heron, kingfishers, bitterns, brown ducks, Canada geese, and one lone swan.  One pair of Canada geese had three goslings, and another had two.  While they must have lost several to hawks, turtles, and fish, those remaining are now large enough to improve their chances for survival.  On one grass-covered hillside, I counted 48 Canada geese with one lonely white domestic goose crashing the party.  As for ducklings, it would be no exaggeration to say that if I didn’t see a hundred, it was darn close. 

These folks did a beautiful job with this boathouse.  The kayaks and canoes are racked behind the house.  The stairs go up and up.  I suppose there's a residence up there somewhere, but I never saw it.

I had one interesting experience that caused me to move a bit further away from the sheer cliffs.  There was suddenly a loud series of crashes and the sound of splintering trees.  I had a short “What the ----” moment, but then realized what was happening.  One of those huge boulders clinging high to the cliff face had suddenly decided to cling somewhere much lower.

Western Village

We spent the three days at Western Village in Carlyle, PA.  It’s just a few miles from our daughter’s place, so it was convenient as well as being a very nice campground.  We’ve pretty much exhausted our paddling opportunities until we get home and start doing some more research.  There just isn’t time on the road to search out guides, maps, etc. for further trips.   One of the first things we need to do is clear out a huge inventory of marine hardware and equipment.  This is mostly for larger boats, and some is sailboat specific, but if anyone is looking to save on marine gear, e.mail me and I’ll send you a complete list.  There’s virtually everything you would need to build a boat, let alone maintain one, from teak and cherry wood, a new diesel engine, water pump, lights, stainless steel sinks, trailer parts, you name it.  

We had a Father’s Day pancake breakfast while we were there, and afterwards a local chainsaw carving artist, Tony Grimes, did an all-day demonstration.  He carved an owl, several bears, eagles, hanging wizard masks, a cowboy hat hanging on a cactus, and others.  It was amazing to see him visualize an object in a piece of tree trunk, and then just make it appear.  We had seen one of his larger pieces on the way into the campground.  A homeowner wanted to remove a tree from his yard, and asked Tony if he could make anything out of it.  Tony apparently told him if he cut the trunk thus and so, he could carve a large eagle out of it, and so he did.  Jean fell for the owl, so as soon as I can get it sealed and polyurethaned, it will make a nice addition to the patio.  I have Tony’s contact information if anyone would like to reach him.



Savannah, Pt. 5

This fountain on the waterfront commemorates the birth of steamships here.  On May 22, 1819, the steamship SS Savannah departed the Savannah wharf to become the first steamship to cross the Atlantic, arriving in Liverpool in 27 days.  President James Monroe had toured the ship and taken an excursion on her roughly two weeks before in anticipation of the historic event.  She was 98 feet on deck, had a 25-foot beam, and 13-foot draft, and her two side paddle-wheels were powered by a 90-hp. steam boiler.  She still used sail on the open sea, but the ability to maneuver unaided under her own power in channels and rivers would mark the beginning of the death of the Age of Sail by the end of the century.  The first steamship to actually commence commercial trade was the SS John Randolph, also launched and sailed from Savannah on July 9, 1834.

This is the street running between the warehouses and the wharf.  It would have been a hub of activity in its day, and I guess still is if you count the tourism business.  This is a rare shot.  It is usually wall-to-wall people.  I have several more pictures from Savannah, but I'll share them when we get home and I don't have to deplete the air card more than necessary.  I still haven't heard from AT&T.  Color me surprised!

Savannah, Pt. 4

Happy Father's Day, guys.

The shipping is much more modern, but Savannah is still an active seaport.

Savannah was the export center for cotton to the world.  Huge buildings line the waterfront that were at one time the cotton warehouses.  If ships coming in from other ports around the world were coming in without imported cargo, they would arrive in ballast.  This means the empty holds of the square-riggers would be filled with rock, quarry stone, fired brick, or any such material from Europe and elsewhere to keep the ships stable enough to carry their thousands of square feet of sail.  This would be removed before loading the cotton, and it would be used for local construction from streets, retaining walls, warehouses, and so on.  You can look at a wall and see it transform from one material to another, depending upon the type of ballast stone being carried in the inbound ships.  A good example of this is the Factor’s Walk.

Wagons would carry the bales of cotton down to the wharf for loading, and the factors, or representatives of foreign buyers, would line up on the iron walkways above the wagons, and record the lot numbers of bales they wished to bid on depending on how clean or free of seed it was.  We later had lunch at the Cotton Exchange Tavern, one of many current businesses that use the old cotton warehouses.  Even here you can clearly see the use of brick and ballast stone, and the iron pintles on which the huge warehouse doors were hinged.