By Tom Connor

Try as we might it is impossible to accurately predict the weather and water conditions, and so it was with the paddle out to Capers's Island. The trip from Columbia was rainy, but I was optimistic the day’s weather would improve.

We all met at the rain-soaked and windy Gadsenville Landing Put-in at 8:30 on that Friday morning. Brian and John had come down into the area the day before and conditions had not changed much. After standing at the landing and looking out towards the bay, it was decided that perhaps we should look for other adventures. A short hop to a local KFC (and a few biscuits later) we decided to head northward to Francis Marion Forest and a camp & paddle on the Wamba River.

We pitched our tents, ate lunch and planned our afternoon, which by noon had improved dramatically. We loaded up, and headed off down the many dirt roads toward our put-in destination

We soon arrived at the put-in, pulled our boats from their racks and planted them down by the river. We quickly ran our shuttle to the take-out. A short stop to check the map was luck in disguise. Lee Van Horn, a paddler new to the group discovered that a flat tire had found its way onto his car. It was quickly changed and we were off again. Parking our cars at the bridge we loaded everyone into my jeep and John's trooper and headed back to the put-in.

The Wamba is a black water river, and promised to be an enjoyable afternoon's paddle. The river was a lot of fun, and reminded me of the Edisto by its closeness and twisting meandering to the ocean. I left the water at the take-out and the others headed further down the river to the confluence of the Santee.

Back at the camp we found that Andy had started a fire. That night we cooked our dinner, melted a bottle in the roaring fire and later (3:30 am) we were serenaded by some low country "Bubbas" as they played a boom box to the max volume setting. Our resident marine headed over and convinced the dudes to move on. And they did.

Saturday morning was cool and crisp, but also relatively calm. It was quite a change from the previous morning. We broke camp and headed Back to Gadsenville Landing to make good our desire to camp on Caper’s Island. One good feature of the Gadsenville Landing is its close proximity to the Island. It is a 45 minute paddle and three miles out to the camp site on the southern end of the island. The bad thing about it is that it is tidal dependant as to when you can leave for the island. It is best to go out with the high tide as it changes to low tide.

We were soon on our way (finally) to our destination. The water was slightly choppy and the winds were moderate. I was towing an Old Town Otter behind me with some extra gear. It was the first time I had ever done this and it proved to be only slightly harder to paddle with it than without it.

Arriving at the island we found a couple of power boaters and their rides stranded from the rapidly changing tide. Our group camp to the rescue and soon had them on their way. After this bit of fun we set about making camp. Tents were pitched and gear put in place. Once we settled, exploration of the beach started. It is a looonnnnggg walk down the other end of the island. Having done that trip last year, I decided to stay put and rest.

Sheila wanted to do some crabbing. I thought that was a good idea so I tagged along with her and John. There is a small creek which drains the islands interior marsh area. She thought we could snag some crabs with turkey wings and a net. It worked. After an hour or so there were about a dozen crabs in the bucket. We also dug up a few clams, but were told later by a tour boat operator visiting the island that the ones we had were to large and would be tough and chewy. We opted not to cook them.

Walking back to the campsite I decided to do a little paddling in the surf, Elsie, a paddler new to the club, wanted to tag along so off we went. We stopped on a really huge sandbar (which was rapidly being reclaimed by the tide) and search for sand dollars. Pickin’s were slim so out in to the surf we went across the inlet to the beach of Dewise Island. There were tons of shells and lots to choose from. By this time it was getting late so we started back for camp. We spotted some dolphins nearby and paddled over to get a closer look.

Once back at camp I settled in to the task of making dinner. I grilled some burgers and had a feast. Everyone else was busy preparing there meals or cutting firewood for the nights fire.

Kate had a plan to throw a surprise birthday party for Brian who was turning 30. He found out about it and disappeared into the night. Maybe he thought we were going to dunk him in the ocean. Maybe not. Anyway come morning he was in his tent lake everybody else.

Sunday morning came and the camp awoke to find that the island raccoons had visited and raided the camp. Snicker wrappers were everywhere, raccoon foot prints were all over our boats, and the garbage bag had been plundered. I think the little fellas had a good time.

After breakfast we picked up the trash, packed our gear and said one last goodbye to the island until next year. The paddle back to the landing was a little more difficult than the paddle out to the island. We had stayed too long on the island and missed our prime time for tides to leave, but we made it back in one piece fighting the current all the way.

We have a tradition in the club that at the end of a paddle we try to have a last meal together at a local restaurant. We chose "The Trawler" at Shem Creek for this and the food was excellent. I would highly recommend it.