Day 9 Mantaloking bridge to Ocean County Park Head Quarters

Surfing to the finish line.

Well, not the finish line for the trip but the last consecutive day we had free to paddle it. We met at the Ocean County Park Headquarters where we left John’s car and found Patrick waiting for us. He wanted some pictures of us shoving off and we hadn’t yet decided on the put-in spot. We decided to put in at the Mantaloking Bridge and after leaving John’s car, drove north around Silver Bay and Kettle Creek and out along the south shore of the Metedeconk River. On the north side of the bridge there was small parking area and beach.

Packing the boats I realized that I had forgotten my chart. That meant we had only John’s GPS for direction, seeing as mine got waterlogged Day 4. I used my boyfriend’s iPhone to drop pins on each of the land outcroppings on the route and emailed them right back to his phone so that we could write down the coordinates. I drew a rough map, he added the numbers and we added the coordinates of the last-turn buoy as noted on John’s GPS. Then we headed out in 11 mph head NE wind, overdressed and uncertain of the conditions on the other side of the bridge.

After paddling under the near end of the bridge and we passed a guy in a fleece sweatshirt and without a PFD paddling an inflatable kayak from the first cove into the wind to go fishing under the bridge. Yikes.

After passing the outside of that cove we set a SSW course with the wind almost directly to our backs and started surfing (riding the white cap waves headed in the same direction we were). It was work to keep the boats on course and not breech. We paddled for Seaweed Point, made a sharp turn behind a bulkhead and took a break. John looked silly drinking from a ½ gallon jug of orange juice but the store he stopped in didn’t have anything smaller.

I put the video camera on the tripod and the tripod on the deck in front of me and we headed out, this time on a SW course for the take-out with the wind directly behind us. The surfing was easier now and the waves were bigger. I made several videos, none of which remotely illustrate what the surfing felt like but you’ll note the horizon line, compass and my boat in relation to John’s in front of me never holding steady. Here's a video clip. Video to follow. The moments when the bow is nearly under water are those when a wave passes under the boat.

I was glad this would be our last day of consecutive paddling. After the rest in behind the bulkhead, I had to rest 3 times out in the surf, exhausted from being sick. Even if either one of us were free to paddle on Monday, I just didn't have the energy to do it. We’ll have to go back this coming weekend for the stretch from Barnegat Light to the Rte. 72 bridge.

At the take-out however, we did feel as though we accomplished as much as we could and in review, we had paddled many, many miles of New Jersey – through 3 counties and over 3 sides of our 5’ long, accordianed Maptech charts. We had driven to the end the Garden State Parkway (there’s even a light on the GSP at Stone Harbor Blvd., including a left turn arrow!) and stopped at no fewer than 2 WaWa’s / day. One GPS got trashed and a VHF radio is on the blink. It now takes 3 hands to get the skeg down on my boat as the casing buckles rather than pushes the cable through it. The Smartwool eventually became smelly and my 4-month-old car smells like a damp beach. Lastly, my sinuses are killing me and I have a hacking cough. My boyfriend thinks it started with allergies, my mom with pollution and I just being damp and occasionally chilled. I hated the wind when I was a kid and thought I grew out of it but found I preferred my ears covered at all times. Next time I’ll take earplugs.

I asked John if he would recommend the trip. He replied that he wants to do it again later in the season when more creatures are out in greater numbers. I fear the bite of the greenhead flies but I would most definitely do it again. I found the twisty course and the wildlife in the south intriguing and the long vistas everywhere most relaxing. The wind, tide and chop were challenging and I’m a better paddler for having pushed through them. I hope a number of paddlers join us for the last leg, because I want to celebrate!

Day 8 Holgate to Rte. 72

It was to be a northbound trip, paddling up with the tide from the Beach Haven Inlet with the wind to our backs. The wind was in our face the entire time but it wasn’t too strong, the wind was shining and we had company.

Chuck and Patrick from the Jersey Shore Sea Kayak Association joined us for the paddle. We met just north of the public ramp just south of the Rte. 72 bridge in Ship Bottom. There Chuck put in and paddled south to meet up with us. We put John’s boat on Patrick’s car and then Patrick and I drove down to the put-in in Holgate. It seemed to take forever to drive to the south end of Long Beach Island. People were driving 30 in a 45 and it wasn’t even Sunday. There’s public parking and beach access at the end of S. Bay Ave., but only for the Atlantic side. Our put-in was a bayside beach left by a low tide beyond the bulkhead at the end of W. MacKinley Ave.

Just after we put in Chuck radioed that he was as far as Beach Haven and asked where we were. Neither Patrick, John, nor I could read the nearest marker and I replied with our guess that it was 108. Then just as we passed 109 (1 south of 108) Chuck radioed again that he should be able to see us and I apologized for our mistake. Already at 108, Chuck had paddled nearly the entire stretch in the time it took us to shuttle and put in! And, he was going to paddle back with us, paddling nearly twice our distance for the day.

We passed 2 couples headed out on paddleboards. Several of them were in bare feet. None had PFD’s. One said he used to race surf skis, which are really long, very narrow, extremely fast kayaks.

We stopped for a snack and stretch our legs on some marsh west of R88. Well, three of us did. Chuck didn’t bother to snack or stretch. John ate a Tasty cake (his usual), Patrick some ChexMix and I a tangerine. Not exactly protein bars and Gatorade! There seemed to be a newly constructed, yet unused osprey stand erected on the marsh. I noted the pole was wrapped 1/2 way up with a sheet of something with a smooth surface. The guys said it was too keep 4-legged creatures from getting to the nest.

Back in the boats, we soon paddled through the narrowest part of the ICW, between R82 and G83 and between R84 and the shore at Beach Haven Crest. I asked the guys to arrange themselves end-to-end to illustrate. The passable area is not 3 kayaks wide.

In the nest cove, at G79, we came across a sole windsurfer, the first one we’d seen on the trip.

Both Chuck and Patrick were using Greeland paddles. After I asked a dozen questions of Patrick about his he suggested I try it. I did. I found it short, light, skinny and that it wobbled when the blade entered the water. I had to take more strokes to travel at the same speed, but as Patrick said, it had far less strain on my shoulders and back.

We finished early, about 3 o’clock and I was tempted to paddle another 4 miles. I knew with 1 day remaining I’d be short 8 miles either from Barnegat Light to Rte. 72 bridge or from the Metedeconk River to Ocean County Park Head Quarters. But, the guys convinced me that after doing another shuttle it would just be too late. Probably a good thing they talked me out of it as I was still sick.

Day 7 Berkeley Shores to Oyster Creek

One frustration after another.

As the wind was from the SW, we chose this section of Barnegat Bay as this stretch of the ICW is along the mainland and we thought that it would give us some shelter from a westerly wind. That decision was the easiest exercise of the morning and it wasn’t exactly correct.

As I was driving north from Manahawkin along on the Garden State Parkway in a construction zone with no shoulder on either side, the front hatch of John’s kayak came off and was banging against the boat and my car windshield. It was a startling sight and sound. I didn’t want the hatch to catch too much wind and break loose from the line that secures it to the boat so I slowed way down, put on my car’s hazard lights and we pulled over as soon as possible, probably a mile or two later, to fix it.

Then, I drove past the take-out in Oyster Creek where we had to leave John’s car to a half-mile short of the put-in in Berkeley Shores and John followed without protest. So, we had to reverse direction and drive south again to the take-out, adding miles and time to our day. It’s no wonder that in contrast to the premise of the trip — to paddle a continuous route, shuttling only as a backup and therefore it being a 177 mi. eco-trip — I put nearly 600 miles on my car by trip’s end.

Then, after driving back to the put-in, putting down the boats at the water’s edge and starting to pack the gear in the hatches, John realized he forgot his dry suit. He considered paddling without it but when he said he didn’t have a wet suit either I vetoed that idea and drove back to the take-out to retrieve his suit. I stopped for a Coke and some Peanut M&M’s as consolation.

The paddle was windy but there were no waves. We paddled into each cove to minimize the strain of head wind or be ferried by (moved sideways) the wind. At the far side of the first cove I stopped to add some neoprene. There John spotted some of those bioluminescent blobs that light up at night in the wake of a boat. Perhaps a dozen of them were floating near the water’s edge.

We stopped in the cove at the north end of Sunrise Beach to eat an orange while still in our boats and endured the sound of some bad karaoke singing to 70’s tunes coming across the water.

At another cove we stopped for a rest from the wind and just as I commented that there wasn’t much to see on this paddle I spotted a jellyfish right on the water’s edge. I watched as a series of boat waves pushed him right up against the shore and he looked like a goner, like “toast” — well, like scrambled eggs to be precise. John used his paddle to wash him in to deeper water and I made some videos. Video to follow.

At the mouth of Oyster Creek we came across fisherman Paul Murray from FL. He was in town on business, brought his fishing rod and was in waders, waist deep in the water next to the pilings of an old pier, working to hook some bluefish. While photographing him, a 10 lb. fish took his line and Paul said that I brought him luck as that was his first bite. I switched from still photos to video and caught the moment when nearly in his hand, the fish jumped the hook and got away. Of course, video to follow.

As it was Friday, my boyfriend was able to meet up with me after the paddle. It was good timing as I was sick and exhausted and needed help. He found us lodging in a cheesy, amusing motel and took me to the Shark Fin Inn for dinner. I was too tied to read the menu and he ordered a plate of fish, a side dish of spinach and another of broccoli. It was the first decent meal all week.

Day 6 Great Bay to Atlantic City

A bumpy road.

As we did at the Tropicana, we had transferred the boats to my car before checking in at the Hilton as it has a roof rack and we could lock the boats to it. However, unlike the Tropicana, the Hilton parking garage had less clearance and despite a slow exit, the stern of my boat caught the roof of the garage once. It was even more slow-going after that, with our windows rolled down and repeated questions about and confirmations of clearance before advancing over changes in pavement and around corners. I was causing a small back up of cars in the garage. The boat did not appear to be damaged.

The put-in was the end of Great Bay Blvd., a long, narrow road out to the end of a peninsula of marsh. Between us and the Atlantic was the widest inlet on the ICW, Little Egg Inlet. And our course was across the largest stretch of open water, the Great Bay.

We put in at slack tide and with only a mild head wind we didn’t cross the narrowest point near the mouth of the inlet but rather paddled due west on course with the ICW. This body of water in mild wind was great practice for navigating by chart. Headed west, the main land is 5.5 mi away and a number of markers can be seen at the same time but without land nearby to give reference, it’s difficult to tell which is which. Using the charts and a compass you can set your heading. Without the wind to cause side slip we arrived at the next marker as planned.

As we entered the Main Marsh Thoro at G147, on the east side there were a dozen adult terns guarding a large group of baby terns. At first, the young birds moved several feet away from shore to the other side of a puddle. Then they got busy preening themselves and soon after slept while standing on one leg. The adults didn’t pay much attention to me either as they were busy fending off several gulls, squawking out to the terns flying above.

At R150 we encountered the start of what seemed an experiment to get bamboo to grow in the channel. Every couple of yards there was a piece of PVC staked into the sand. Every-other-one had a single stalk of bamboo standing beside it, straight and brown. They didn’t seem as if they were taking to the environment and I wondered why someone would want to introduce bamboo to the Jersey marsh.

At R176 we stopped to get out, stretch and examine a dredge pit. We had passed maybe a dozen of them and from my low vantage point in the kayak I was curious what was in them. Satellite images showed them as brighter green areas. On the climb we passed a rotting gull, the shell of a hermit crab and a single deer track in some mud. At the top there was not a fertile scene but rather a deserted one. It was just a big pit of sand with the wind racing over the top of it no deer in site. Atlantic City was in front of us and for the first time we noticed a big dark cloud behind us.

When we entered Mankiller Bay the dark cloud had separated and was on either side of us. The eastern cloud over the wind farm let out a bolt of lightning. The cloud to port side let go some rain. The wind picked up behind us, the tide was outgoing and we surfed down to the Rte. 87 bridge. Just as we beached between it and Harrah’s, a rainbow came out.

We rushed to get the boats loaded and just as we pulled out of the Harrah’s lot, the security guard pulled in. He didn’t follow us, however.

On the way back to the end of Great Bay Blvd. to retrieve the put-in car, the thunderstorm let loose. Video to follow.

Day 5 Wildwood to Stone Harbor

A day for the birds. There was a light, constant rain but hardly any wind or chop. It made for great paddling.

It was quick paddle across the top of Richardson Sound. Just as we entered Grassy Sound, a group of terns were diving for fish. Larger fish were chasing the smaller ones and you could see the battle break the waterline every once in a while. The birds were capitalizing on it. The terns were swirling overhead, diving all around us and zooming past us. This captivated us for nearly 20 minutes.

As we approached the Rte. 585 bridge there was a flock of mergansers on the west side. Without being close to them they all took off together, first heading south and then circling back towards the bridge where they split into smaller groups, some flying over the bridge, some turning alongside it. One white egret trailed behind, seeming to have barely enough speed or energy to clear the bridge or the cars passing on it.

On the north side of the bridge we were about to paddle under a fishing pier when I spotted a gull which seemed as if it were standing on the side of it. At first I thought it was a fake bird comically nailed to the side but as we approached, it started to flap its wings, swing side to side and spin. It had swallowed a fishing hook at the end of a line dangling from the pier. John beached his boat and went up to cut it free. It didn't put up much of a fight being held. It was probably exhausted. There was no way to get the hook out and after John cut the line we tried to pour some puddled rain water down its throat and left it to rest on a bench on the pier.

After passing Hereford Inlet we paddled against a mild current behind Nummy Island and stopped to watch some hermit crabs. The current picked up along the Great Channel and we did some “dock dodging” — paddling under the docks. We followed a white egret that kept moving to be several docks ahead of us but the light was fading and I couldn't get a fast enough shutter speed to fix his flight in a photograph.

Dinner was had at a tavern on Rte. 9. It was Quizzo night and the "Ultimate Griswolds" behind us were in the top 5. This entertainment was the best part of the meal. I think I had the most flavorless, nutritionless, expensive spaghetti dinner on the planet. There wasn't even enough content to photograph. After hours of paddling you need some nourishment. I was craving a spinach salad and a support team — chef and chauffeur included.

Midnight fast approaching and still in need of lodging, we went back to Atlantic City for another $65 room, this time at the Hilton.