My EC from a SUP (lengthy) ChesapeakeTJAM
EC synopsis for those that don't have Facebook
Day #1: The Start
The day had come, the start of the EC. All the emotions were present, fear, excitement, confidence, uncertainty and elation. The wind was cranking and the idea of an on time start looked bleak. Roll call had us delayed until 0900 when the wind was forecast to drop. At 0900 another delay, to 1000. There was also an option, an option for a Plan B start if you so wished. That meant starting south of Tampa Bay. I was on the fence on what to do. After some though I didn’t want the 6 mile crossing to ruin the next 294 miles. I packed up the board and drove south of Tampa Bay. It was nearing noon and I was anxious to get started. In the weeks/months prior to the EC I planned several routes to include distances and approx times of where I would be for Julie. We selected a site that would keep me on my schedule. We unloaded the board, strapped on my kit, said our farewells and I was off! Finally! Paddling south I wanted to stay on schedule knowing I was going to lose an hour when the clocks jumped forward. I felt good and the conditions (wind) was manageable. It was my goal to hit CP1 and then move further south. I hit Venice before sunset and got ready for nighttime operations. The tide through the Venice cut was in my favor and I was flying, doing 5-5.5mph. Shortly after the cut I was passed by IronBob and The Juice. We chatted for a bit and then then left me in their wake. It must be awesome to maintain 6-8mph. An hour or so later I caught up to Staright and Ccock. We stayed together the rest of the evening. We pulled into CP1 around 2330. After refilling our water we set out for our rest stop, Dog Island. A hectic day was about to come to a close and we could finally get some sleep. I got everything ready for the morning and readied my sleeping quarters. It was at this time the clocks jumped ahead. Uggh
EC Day #2: The Crossing
With the wind whipping and the temps in the 50’s it was tough to stay asleep. I was anxious to move south. After losing an hour of sleep I opt’d to warm up the productive way, paddle. I packed up from Dog Island and set out. As the sun rose I stopped for a FB Live session. While I had my own goals, I also wanted to share this experience and inspire others to do amazing stuff, so a daily Live episode was the ticket.
I made my way through Bull Bay and stared out into Charlotte Harbor. 15mph crosswinds made for a messy 10 mile crossing. 3’ seas slowed my progress but only one thing to do, keep going. It took about 3hrs for the crossing and I found myself on the west side of Pine Island. Finally sheltered from the wind, I took a break, ate breakfast and slowly moved on. I found Staright (Shawn) and we chatted for a bit. CCock was still battling CH. an hour or so later the three of us made our way through the super skinny water, push poling much of the way. Staright and CCock stopped at the marina and I pressed on. With nightfall approaching and losing our island barrier from the wind, I had to think of where to sleep. I ducked into the long canal system of St James (mistake). I got to the end but found no place to camp. I even went through a culvert to get out of the wind but got the heebeejeebees and opt’d to tie up to the mangroves and sleep on my board. I pulled out my ground cloth, my thermacell and slept. I was awaken 3hrs later 3am by a dolphin feeding 10’ away.
EC Day #3: End of Regret
After a great night sleep on the board (NOT) tied to the mangroves, damp and cold it was time to warm up paddling. I reset everything for what would be an emotional day for me. Today I would make it past where last year’s EC would end. My mantra “I Can, I Will, I Must” echoed in my head. I pushed off into San Carlos Bay and navigated through the many mangrove islands and shallow flats. Last year I slept ties to one of those islands only to awake high and dry on a mud flat. Head east and then south to the Sanibel Causeway was my plan. The tide was still dropping which would slingshot me toward Estero Island (Ft Meyers Beach). As twilight began I found myself on the beach at the north end of Estero. Pre-dawn shell collectors were milling about and the tide was still outgoing so I stopped for breakfast and to FaceTime my shift. A definite pick me up, as my shift mates have been so supportive of my quest. Like a switch, the current through the pass reversed and was now flooding. Time to go! The extra boost of the tide and lifted spirits had me flying. I was making 5mph past all of the moored boats. A pontoon boat pulled out just in front of me. I caught up to them and I paddled next to them for the 3-4 miles. We chatted and it gave me an added boost seeing their dismay that I could actually hang with them. As I neared Estero Bay the ICW widened. The east wind had picked up and was blowing a solid 15-20mph. Augggh crosswind, again. The conditions we not unlike Charlotte Harbor the morning before. I called it “little Charlotte Harbor.” My plan was to bounce to mangrove islands for shelter. 1 bite at a time. I decided I would check out the gulf side to hopefully get some shelter. It turned out to be my best decision yet. I had a very emotional reunion with my wife and kids in San Carlos Pass. I wish I could have spent more time with them but I had miles to make up. I paddled along the beach only 10’ from the shoreline and it was glorious. Just before sunset I had reached Wiggin’s Pass, where my race ended last year. I stopped and filled my water, had dinner and bid farewell to the sun and the regrets from last year. As the last bit of the sun slipped below the horizon I set off with new resolve. I got to see 2 Tribe paddlers and we chatted briefly. Around 2200 just past Clam Pass I pulled into the beach for a nap. I pulled my board up, pulled out my ground cloth and air mattress and snoozed. Around 0230 I was awaken by a bright light in my face. Not being able to focus and thinking it was a police officer I let out a hardy “Yes Sir?” As things became less foggy I realized it was the full moon not a flashlight in my face. I was awake now, so time to go.
EC Day #4: New ground
After awaking to the moonlight and laughing at my confusion I packed up and continued to skirt the beach. I made it down to Gordon Pass, a milestone in my mind, during the predawn. Next was Marco. I saw a couple of watertribers repairing their sailboat and bailing out. We wished each other good luck and continued on. When I reached Big Marco Pass J had to chose, left to the Big Marco River and Goodland, or straight and follow the beaches on the outside then go through Caxamas Pass. I chose to stay the course and follow the beach (mistake). Around noon I decided to take a break and nap. This was a waste of time. I couldn’t nap but I was able to dry some of my paddling clothes and refill my water from bladders and eat. When I pushed off the beach I crossed the big dip in the coast into a headwind. It took longer than I expected and when I rounded the corner I was met by the Hells Angels of jet skis. Ugggh I hate them, they’re water cockroaches! I followed the pass down with a stiff head wind and into the current. I was a bit confused as I thought the current would be going with me. Oops. I finally made it out of the mayhem of Marco and into the 10K islands before sunset. The winds had dropped and the seas had flattened out. I ducked into an island to get ready for nightfall and check on the whereabouts of Conchistador, knowing he was close. When the tracker popped up it showed him just off the island I was at. There he is! I yelled out to him with no response, so I paddled toward him. I asked if he was pushing into CP2 tonight and he replied “you have to, or you’re going to wait for the next tide.” I was unfamiliar with Choko and didn’t know how strong the tides were, but knew Scott had intimate knowledge. So I joined him. As the sun set, our reprieve from the wind ended. We now had a 10-15mph head wind. I let Scott take the lead and just followed his stern light. He was a machine, I only hoped to stay within eyesight of his lights. Completely exhausted and thinking it was only 10 miles I pushed myself. Not sure why I thought it was 10miles (it was 20). We made it to the marked channel and I was thankful the hard press was over. What I also didn’t realize was how long that channel was and we still had a ways til reaching Choko. I had a bit of an adrenaline dump and slowed my pace. Exhausted and sleep deprived I looked up at the mangroves that lines the channel. They all had shapes and were moving, laughing or talking to me. I shook my head, laughed and said our loud “oh this is going to be fun.” The hallucinations were everywhere and I had to force myself to focus. The monotonous drill of paddling had me sleepier by the minute. At some point I must have dozed off still paddling, because when I woke I was doing donuts paddling on one side. Yikes! I finally reached the turn into Choko. I thought finally, but again I was mistaken and didn’t realize how long the road I was paralleling was. The support boat at the turn said head toward the bridge and look for a blinking red light. I put my head down and paddled for a break was near. I reached Choko but saw no blinking read light. I skirted the shoreline wondering in my fog where I should land. After 10 min I saw Scott and knew I was at the right place. I pulled into the rocky beach, exhausted and pissed that I just wasted 10 valuable min. Turns out the tracker was down and my arrival was not apparent on the map. Oh well. I pulled my gear off my board and signed in. When I went back to my board, it was gone! Huh? So confused. Then I saw it, the tide had come up enough to float it and in the light breeze pushed it 150 yds off shore. Oh crap!!!! I fired off a text to Paula the race coordinator to see if the support boat could help retrieve my board. Scott came over and found a canoe I could commandeer. So after a brutal day of paddling nearly 19hrs I paddled the canoe out and rescued my unmanned SUP. Ooooof. It was now 0230 time for sleep. I was told out by 6 or I’ll have to wait for the next tide. I slept with mosquito net on my head beside the road and beach. I was toast!
EC Day #5: Recovery Day
After my delirious arrival at CP2 and a few hours of rest I was nervous about over sleeping and being stuck at CP2. Must get up and get out. I would find a place to sleep once out of Choko. I pushed off still in a daze rounding the island. I must have missed my turn because I came across a never ending bed of oysters. I ran aground a bunch of times trying to make it to my cut to get out. It seemed like forever. Finally I made it to the path I picked. As I entered the canal I felt the outgoing tide carrying me. Finally. I heard a boat wide open throttle getting closer. It was a 25’ world cat. I had all my lights on since it was still pitch black. He turned into the same canal I was going down and I thought “ok he’s going in front of me, no big deal” that was until he abruptly spun around, still WOT he was now coming right at me! He was 20’ away when I threw up my paddle screamed as loud as I could. He turned again within paddle reach. I dropped to my knees, shaken, and he killed his engines. I was a few feet from being a statistic. He didn’t check on me, instead, started his engines and left again wide open throttle. I was shaking from my encounter and just wanted to get out of the Choko area. Too close. (See video)
I made it out to open water and needed time to regroup. But where? I found a sandbar. This would have to do. I pulled up, pulled my bags off the board and pulled the board as high up the bar as I could. I then reloaded the board, wrote in the sand “I’m OK SLEEPING” put my leash on my wrist and slept. I heard several guide boats slow and check on me but read my note and left me alone. When I awoke the tide had come up and my 20’ of dragging was now just 5’ away from the water. A little more rested I bounced south. I paddled with dolphins for an hour, so cool. As the afternoon progressed the wind picked up from the south. I took a break and another nap of New Turkey Key. I awoke to see a Watertriber paddle/sail past. I moved a bit further south and as night fell there were some storms around with rain and wind. I opt’d to call it a day and chose Bird Key as my refuge. (Not great). With no adequate trees and rain falling I made a shelter with my board, my canopy and a long branch I found. Time for some much needed shut eye.
EC Day #6: Push To Flamingo
After a cold and soggy rest on Bird Key I woke chilled and needed to get moving. Paddling=warmth. Packed up all my damp stuff and set out. The wind had returned to the NE and set up a nice downwinder. Just what I needed. I enjoyed the breeze nearly at my back for the predawn hours, maybe even too much as I found myself a little further offshore than I would have liked. I had to start to cut in toward Ponce Deleon Bay and the Shark River. But as with everything in the EC, conditions changed. That NE breeze gave way to an east wind. So my push into the bay from 2mi out was more of a task. I thought taking the Little Shark River was a better choice as it would afford me a little more shelter from the wind. When I arrived at the mouth of the river I wasn’t so sure of my decision as the wind funneled through and once again I had to push on nose into the wind. After the first bend of the river I was thankful for my decision. I had the tide on my side and was cruising through the LSR. Giddy from solitude (social distancing) I talked to everything, birds, fish, trees and my paddle. I was in great spirits, run down but my mind was in a good place. When I reached the end of the river I was thrust into the heart of the Glades. I could help but feel small. The wide open space and the majestic looking mangrove islands were awe inspiring. Joe River was my route and I was happy to find the current still running. Any time Joe River turned to the east it was more of a grind and as the river widened it was daunting. With the afternoon waning and evening approaching I looked forward to stopping at South Joe Chickee to restock, eat dinner and take care of some business. I paddled hard to round the corner only to see a couple of boats and 2 families occupying the Chickee. Darn! I darted around the corner and took care of my tasks. As darkness came I was at the end of Joe River and at the base of Whitewater Bay. It was so dark I was looking forward to the moon rise. (I don’t check the timing) In the pitch black, navigating was slower than I hoped. I finally made it to Coot Bay. I had paddled here before years ago but had forgotten how big the area was. In the canal I turned on my headlamp and was greeted by every flying blood thirsty critter in south Florida. Better to remain in the dark I thought. When I hit the Flamingo Canal I used my headlamp again and besides all of the bugs, I saw a lot of orange eye shines on both banks. I wasn’t alone in this canal. Nearing midnight I pulled up to the floating dock at Flamingo. I was informed there was a huge crocodile under the other floating dock. OK, good to know. I unloaded my board and began my portage to the other side of Flamingo. I staged my stuff near the boat ramp and laid down for a nap. On to Florida Bay and Key Largo in the morning.
EC Day #7: The End
After pushing in to Flamingo the night before, portaging my board and gear to the ramp on the other side, I needed sleep. 1 final push to Key Largo. The forecast was 15-20 out of the east, so the challenge ahead would be no easy feat. I woke with my alarm at 0530, cold, and confused. I decided to try and get another hour or so sleep. At 0630 I rose and started to prep for the day. Shivering, hungry and tired I struggled to get motivated. I was so close yet so far away. After mulling around, stretching and trying to shake off the past 6 days of grinding I pushed off the dock at 0830. (This would come around and bite me.) I headed out into Florida Bay staying a little north of my intended track so I could use more of the islands as a wind break. As the morning progressed, the wind built. I found myself once again nose into the wind. My stamina had waned and actually looked forward to being in shallow water where I could push pole as opposed to paddle. In deeper water there were times when my paddling would keep me stationary and if I let off I would slide backwards. After hundreds of miles I was fighting for feet. Reaching an island was monumental. After 8 hrs of paddling I had gone 10 miles. I had 2.5 miles to go to reach Crocodile Dragover, my next island and reprieve from the relentless wind. Around 1630 there was a noticeable uptick in the wind with a more fervent chop accompanying. My progress had stopped. I was in 5’ of water and my paddle/sand spike anchor struggled to hold bottom. At one point my paddle lost contact with the bottom and I was drifting backward, got turned sideways and nearly tipped. Not good, not good at all. After struggling to get pointed back into the wind I started to think of my options. I was 2.5miles from an island in front of me and making little to no forward progress. I had Derelict Key 1 mile to my left, and few options behind me, none of which were Flamingo. I say that because that would be throwing in the towel. And a logistical nightmare getting back to Key Largo. I had to press on. My decision was to slide north and find shoreline. A few gusts and larger waves had me on the ropes and consider my predicament. It was then I saw a boat appear. My life long friend, his son, my wife and kids had come to cheer me on! I felt relief, I had nothing remaining in my tank. 20 miles from Key Largo and I struggled to call it. Would I regret my decision? There would always be “what if” questions. But now a week later reflecting back, I still believe I made the right, safe choice, to climb aboard my buddies boat. While I technically did not finish I had crushed so many obstacles, cranked out miles beyond what I thought I was capable of, inspired many with my actions. The goal of stepping off my board onto the beach in Key Largo still eludes me, but it was one hell of a ride. Certainly a reason to celebrate.
I’ll have another "lessons learned" post soon.
