Tides

I have just started reading the book Tides: The Science and Sprit of the Ocean by Jonathan White, it got me thinking about my last outing on the CT trail and the problems I have encountered with tides, for that matter, all the tide-related problems I have encountered while on the CT trail.

I have been warned numerous times about being mindful of the tides. When hearing the warnings, the water current came to mind since river currents dominated my experience. The rise and fall of the tides create strong currents to be dealt with, but that is not all, as I have found out the hard way.

Backshores, an excellent place to camp, typically have two sets of debris lines, marked by high tide wrack and storm wrack, but sometimes those lines are blurred. It may seem understandable to camp above high tide, but locating the high tide mark when forced to camp on a narrow beach is challenging. Last fall, I set up my tent in what I thought was a wide enough backshore, only to be awakened by the sound of wavelets inches away. Without another site within miles, I had no choice but to pack up and launch into the night (another story in itself.)

I recently found myself between the mainland coast and a group of near-shore islands. We had been paddling on the gulf miles from shore, so I had lost track of the tide. The wind forced us to seek refuge and continue behind near-shore islands. The water level was high enough for us to enter the channel, but we started to bottom out in less than an hour. We could “strong arm” our way over sand and mud bars, but mud flats held us back within sight of our destination. We had no choice but to wait for the flood tide to continue. Only to be stopped yards away from the boat ramp.

Well, the impatient person and smart feller I am, I hitched a tow on an airboat. Gloating with pride at the ramp, I attempted to exit the kayak gracefully as people watched, only to slip and roll into a soup of silt and mud. Covered from head to toe with fermented silt, I was forced to walk across a county park to the outdoor showers.

For two days, I was the talk of the campground.

“Did you hear about the guy that fell in the mud?”  

“That was you??” Smirk, smirk.