By Kate Whitaker

(Photo Album)

Our weekend paddling/camping trip to Little Tybee Island, Georgia began in the wind and was ended, abruptly, by more of the same, much, much more of the same. Shawn, Pam, Tom, John, Theresa, Sheila and I all arrived at the Seabreeze Hotel, on Tybee Island, just outside of Savannah Thursday night, in good spirits and ready for adventure. While John and Theresa took in the sights of Savannah and enjoyed a few local ghost stories (which they later shared with us, including a spooky personal experience of their own - with mysteriously blinking lights) the rest of us headed for the Crab Shack, an adventure in tourist salt-water dining. Making our way past the alligator pond (with captive alligators, ugh) and through the souvenir shop with colorful parrots squawking a greeting, we finally made it to our patio table, complete with a roll of paper towels, a bottle of hot sauce, plastic forks and a hole in the middle of the table for shell discards. We were entertained by Buffet beach music and numerous curiously silent but attentive cats while we dined (chowed down might be a more atmospheric-appropriate term!). With the libations and conversation flowing at a goodly pace, we all enjoyed a surprisingly great meal, steamed-not fried! On our way out, we took full advantage of the numerous photo-ops to show our enthusiasm and good spirits.

The next morning, we all gathered for breakfast and our first of many, many discussions of the impending weather. At this point, it was overcast, breezy but not raining. Then we were off to Sea Kayak Georgia, an outfitter par excel lance. I finally met Marsha who had been so helpful to me in the planning of this trip and we met Ronnie, the leader who was going to lead us to our camp where we planned to stay for the next two nights. We made our first 'go-no go' decision on the steps of the outfitters. It was a group decision and it was a 'go' – at least to the landing where we would re-decide. Forecast at this point was rain Friday with winds 15-20 knots, heavy rains and gusts up to 20 knots Friday night. Ronnie opined, while clearly leaving all decisions to our group, that the NOAA weather report was generally accurate in his experience. I personally am usually skeptical of local TV weather forecasts as they generally seem to be unhelpful in predicting what any weather might be at any particular time while I’m in any particular place on the river. But subsequent events this trip have made a believer of me (at least of NOAA predictions and coastal paddling!) In any event, our decision was to go to the landing and decide when the rest of the group arrived.

So we loaded up and made our way to Alley Three where there was a nice sandy put-in. We waited for Lynn and our 11:00 put-in time, listened again to the NOAA weather radio and Sea Kayak Georgia provided information of alternate camping spots. Our original goal was a sand spit bordered by both open ocean and salt marsh creek – beautiful but very weather-exposed. The alternate suggestion was somewhat protected sand dunes just across Tybee Creek from the landing. If this was to be our final choice, several trip changes would be made: 1) the new camping area was ½ hour paddle away, with good line-of-sight from the put-in and would not require a guide from the outfitter, so they graciously agreed to refund our investment in this service and we would just pay for shuttle and parking. 2) The alternate camping spot was not tidal-dependent and we could go or come at any time. Our group decided this was a good alternative; we would not have to cancel our trip but we would be safer both on the water and at the campsite. This final decision was made with all group members present, good local information provided by Sea Kayak Georgia, charts, satellite photographs, the latest weather predictions from a reliable source, on-the-spot observations and a view of our proposed camping site, just across Tybee Creek from the put-in. Shawn elected at this point to give the camping a miss (he had plenty of bad-weather camping experiences) but to paddle with us to the camping spot and then paddle back to a warm, dry, wind-proof room in the early evening while we tested our luck with the elements.

So with boats packed and shuttle run, we were off on our adventure with eight sea kayakers, overcast skies and wind 10-15 knots. The ride was a little bouncy but we made good headway, paddling back and forth some along the shore of Little Tybee to choose what looked like the best spot among the dunes. Soon we were cheerfully unloading boats and getting our tents set up and ship-shape. Rain was impending and we wanted to be prepared. Shawn was a great help with all the hauling involved, and carried extra water and gear for some of us and helped Pam, Tom and Sheila get our dining tarp up and well-staked. Pam had brought a great Kelty 12x12 tarp with lots of tie-down spots and some poles and Tom had additional poles for getting the tarp just right in this tree-less area. Not sure who brought the bright orange sand stakes but they really worked well in the loose sand.

As the afternoon came to a close, Shawn headed off and the rest of us soon gathered under the tarp, cooking an early evening meal – having missed our lunch opportunity, and we being our usually hungry selves. We dined as the daylight faded with the beginning sounds of rain pitter-pattering on our nylon roof soon becoming a somewhat more intensive pitter and patter! While we were dry, we chatted, ate and watched the weather deteriorate and discovered one advantage of rain – an abundance of fresh dish-rinsing water, as the tarp gathered and concentrated the run-off for us. It is a great advantage of this group, the positives found from what anyone else would call negatives – whenever possible. And at this point, there was no lightening and the wind was calmish – and temperature cooling but still very pleasant.

Soon it was dark and the weather became more so, so all retreated to our tents by 7:30 or so, tucked in for the night – not a nice quiet night but instead the proverbial dark and stormy one with attendant, in varying degrees, rain and wind, though still mild temperatures. The wind picked up – and kept picking up and, according to later reports, everyone in the tents spent the next few hours “holding down the fort”, literally. As the wind pulled out stakes and bowed tent poles across our bodies, we held on for dear life. Reportedly, John spent the first part of his evening in the pouring rain, adding guy wires to the entire circumference of his tent and Tom was enfolded by his ‘loving’ shelter and Sheila finally just moved, in the middle of the night, her whole tent to a seemingly more sheltered spot. Lynn was fighting a losing battle with her rain fly and tent too. Since I'm writing this saga, I don't have to list my private battles with my shelter but I will report, conditions were less than restful.

About midnight, there was an eerie calm, little wind and no rain, for a short while. We came bumbling out of our tents and after some comparing of notes and commiseration, went about battening down – again. Lynn and Tom pulled their boats up next to their tents to use as anchors for tent pegs and Sheila finished her move and re-staking. Pam chatted with us but was finally cozy so didn’t stir and John and Theresa were far enough away to sleep through the confab. Weather radios were again consulted and it looked as if the fat lady had NOT yet sung, so, after distributing walkie-talkies, setting the channels and a final visit to the dunes, we hunkered back down, as ready as we could be for the next onslaught. It was a surprising comfort to have the radios and to be able to communicate and hear other voices in the privacy (loneliness) of our tents. In the earlier storm, Lynn had already felt the need for company and had called her daughter on the cell phone – the walkie-talkies at least got her daughter off the hook for providing company and solace in the storm. But soon we all settled back down – a little more comfortable and secure for the respite. Then all hell broke loose – again – with hard, driving rain, thunder, lightening and, of course, more, stronger wind. Tom reportedly spent this part of the night counting between flashes and thunder claps. Not sure where he thought he would go if it got too close – and I never asked for the count so can’t report it to you, dear readers.

But we were all glad to see the dawn and miraculously – the SUN, big, and beautiful, and bright. So one blessing was upon us – no more rain and some blue skies. The Bad News?? More wind and hard, blowing sand – in our face, in our ears, through our hair and into all our gear. 20-30 knots steady with gusts on up from there and predicting (gotta love those weather radios!) worse as the day progressed. So, it was bug-out time! No breakfast, no long decision-making process, just leaving. It was pick the tarp and our (Sheila’s) privacy shelter up off the ground and pull up stakes on all the tents and gather up the gear and just leave. We moved the boats to near the shore line, loaded and waited for the tide to lift us up and away. I wasn’t moving as fast as the others; so, thanks to all for the assist ‘cause I knew they weren’t waiting!! The wind was big time and we discussed our most likely route, using what land there was for some protection along the way. Six of the boats had rudders or skegs so that was one less worry (or 6 less, I guess) and Tom and I hoped to tough it out as necessary. Wind and white caps and confused waters. We weren’t waiting for high tide so there was a certain amount of current to fight too. I will say that it could have been worse. We were in ‘protected’ waters, not open ocean where it certainly would have been more challenging, and we could see the landing we were going for and the sun, that dear sun, was shining. So ahoy – and we were off. Hard work but soon we arrived with no mishaps. I now know why paddles are usually feathered – the wind almost got mine at least twice in the crossing. Strong – NOAA said 30 knots and who am I to argue?

The beach at the ramp was crowded with kayakers and canoers who were also 'bugging out'. Apparently one night was enough for them too. We saw only one canoe-load of scouts bite the dust, so to speak, and they were promptly rescued and arrived cheerfully if a little wetter for the experience. The sand and drain pipe beside our landing had collapsed in that night’s storm so it was careful, careful footing to get boats and gear across to the parking area. Shawn was there to meet us and very helpful – again. He and the group had stayed in touch by walkie-talkie throughout our loading and during the crossing. Comforting to know we had an ally on shore. Ronnie showed up and canceled our advance stroke clinic for that afternoon that Shawn, Lynn and I had signed up for. Very nice of them, we thought.

First order of business was hot food and cold drinks at the Sugar Shack, then on to Sea Kayak Georgia where we assuaged our disappointment by purchasing some gear and books and looking at the gorgeous boats for sale. They will have some for sale at the East Coast Canoe and Kayak Festival later this month so do go visit, say ‘hi’ from Palmetto Paddlers and purchase something, if you have a need. They were really great to us. After promising to be back in better weather for a return engagement, we all went to visit the Tybee Island lighthouse and museum and were disappointed to learn we couldn’t climb the lighthouse as it was too windy for visitors to go that high up – tell us about it! So, everybody but Shawn, Theresa and John took off for home (they were up for more sight-seeing). We are sadder but wiser, safe and sound, sandy and sand-blasted but had a great time as always.

The Way It Was, Kate Whitaker