The only female and fastest to ever kayak
9,400 miles around Australia

Only two people have ever completed this circumnavigation.
Meet one of them and hear about her epic journey

Saturday, June 26 at 5:00 PM
at the
Eastern Mountain Sports store
200 Harker Place Annapolis, MD 21401
$5 for the first 50 people, $15 for all others

Hear her discuss:

 332 days underway, solo and mostly unsupported.
 Huge salt water crocodiles, Great White sharks, venomous sea snakes
 Massive surf
 Multi-day exposed crossings, sleeping at sea in a kayak
 Equipment choices
 Skills required
 Handling repairs
 Importance of proper paddling strokes
 Endurance training
 Logistics and nutrition

The dock was going to be a challenge. There was a fairly steep grade to the water, and my original plan was to build a hinged ramp down to the dock. But after framing out the ramp and going down to the water to mentally test fit it, I realized the angle would be MUCH to steep to carry a kayak up/down the ramp.

It took me a day or two to recover from this setback. I wasn't sure how to get around this problem. For the rest of my dock design to work I needed the dock to be about 12' out from the bottom of the deck, and I had anywhere from a 4'-6' drop to accommodate (depending on the water level).

I finally settled on a step/ramp hybrid. I would build steps down to the water, and attach the ramp to one of the steps that would give a fairly level walk over to the dock.

Time to get building.

I started out building the frame in my front yard. I had no way to get the dock to the water, so my neighbor had graciously offered to let me build my dock on top of his, and then just slide it into the water.

I had a tough challenge ahead. In order to minimize the amount of time needed on my neighbor's dock, I needed to pre-build the dock in my yard, then disassemble and reassemble on his dock. And to make the dock float as low as possible to the water (this is a kayak dock) I needed to attach the floats to the underside of the decking instead of the bottom of the frame. This would require flipping the dock over to attach the floats and then flipping it back over to slide into the water - all while sitting on my neighbor's dock. It wasn't a chore I felt safe about doing. I also pre-sealed all the wood during the initial construction so I wouldn't contaminate the water from over spray and could seal the underside of all the boards.

At work, Chris suggested I assemble the frame up off the ground and bolt the floats on from the bottom. It was worth a try and I built a jig to hold a float up against the deck boards they would attach to so I could mark, pre-drill, and bolt them on.

Ryan came over the following Saturday to help me dis-assemble the dock and carry it down to my neighbor's. Ryan suggested we build it on his lawn and slide it off his sea wall rather than carry the dock down a narrow path to his dock.

We disassembled the dock into as few pieces as possible, taking the floats in 2 sections (leaving them bolted to the underside of the deck boards), each side of the frame, and the middle frame and end boards. The middle frame and end boards were too heavy for me to carry, so we set one end on the back of Ryan's pickup, and I backed the truck down while Ryan carried the other end. Did I mention he was part ox?

In short order the dock was reassembled and another neighbor came down to see if this thing was actually going to float.

We put a few long boards under the dock and pulled the concrete blocks out from each corner so the floats set directly on the long boards. These would act as runners, and hung over the sea wall a foot or so. The idea being to provide something to the dock to slide against and not snag on the seawall as the edge of the dock went over. We pushed the dock out on the boards a little bit until we could lift the runners. The dock took off and splashed into the water a few feet below the wall. We had a long rope attached to it and I started to pull it over to my neighbor's dock to tie it off while Ryan loaded the 2 runners onto the dock.

The current was running pretty swift and the idea was to tie up to the neighbor's dock until it calmed, then use another neighbor's boat to haul it in to place. Ryan suggested we walk along the shore and pull the dock down, but the terrain is too steep. Someone suggested we paddle it, so a neighbor brought us a couple of canoe paddles and off we went.

It was a little tough going against the current, but in no time we had tied off the dock to the bottom of the deck and were heading off to get lunch. Not bad for 2 1/2 hours of work.

Little did I realize that we would spend the rest of the day getting the stringers in place for the stairs. They were heavy and difficult to maneuver. At the top they were attached to the base of the deck structure with a hinge with a big pin running through the hinge to hold it together. We could get the pin though 3 of the 4 hinge tabs, but even a sledge could not persuade the pin in to place. But before 5:00 we had the stringer's pinned and the pipes in place to hold the dock off shore.

I should explain the pipes that lead out to the dock. Last year there was a flood on the lake that brought the water up 10'. I could anchor the dock to the bottom of the lake with pipe, but they would need to stick up above the water by 10+' to avoid getting washed away in another flood. Using the pipe tied back and hinged at the cock and at the shore, the water could raise at least the length of the pipe (12') before it became a problem. Nothing would need to tower above the dock and hamper moving the kayaks around.

Over the next few days I put in the step treads and decked the dock.

I added the ramp, and some nylon fold down cleats to use as handholds while getting in/out of the kayaks.

I attached a few J-Racks to the dock to hold the kayaks and attached the cable cross bracing between the pipes to prevent lateral movement of the dock. After attaching the J-Racks and sitting back on the dock - Drill in one hand and my sweat stained hat in the other - it suddenly dawned on me - I have a dock....

Woody

The deck has been finished for quite some time, and I'm a good bit behind on the updates. The dock is also finished, but that will be the subject of a different post.

Here are the Deck pictures. Dock photos and blog post to follow.

Woody

Progress is going well. It is starting to look like a deck.

The dock floats and hardware have been ordered and received. After I give the lumber order a good going over, I'll order the wood for the frame.

Day 3

Day 4

Day 6

Day 8

Woody

PBS documentary starting tonight on the Puget Sound and the Chesapeake Bay. Watch it on TV or online:

Woody

Water, water, everywhere, and narry a drop to paddle.

After moving in to the new house, and spending a fortune on getting potable water and a few other repairs, my attention turned to painting. A house really starts to feel like a home as you try to cover up every little imperfection in the walls in preparation for several new coats of paint.

But as the weather warms the painting is getting old and the water begs for me to play. The problem is 32 cinder block steps from my driveway to the water on a 60 degree slope. No handrail. Only 3 blocks wide (2 blocks in some spots). You take your life in your own hands to carry more than your own weight to the bottom of these steps, and even the most hardy often stop to rest part way back up the hill. Obviously, something has to be done.

Joel is a craftsman and was highly recommended by others to solve my problem. After looking at my dilemma Joel started working his magic. In the area beside the steps Joel suggested a terraced switchback made from 6"x6" lumber to make a comfortable 5 1/2" rise for each step - handrails on the downhill sides - with a nice landing at the bottom above normal flood. From this landing I would have a place to attach a gangplank for the dock I plan to build myself.

Over the next few weeks I'll post pictures and a few comments as I see things progress at the end of each work day. It appears after 2 days to be going slow, but Joel and his partner Wade are putting down each timber with precision and anchoring it well into the earth below. It will be interesting to watch this take shape.

End of Day 1

End of Day 2

Woody

The crickets sound like sleigh bells as they sing through the night. So August feels like Christmas when I close my eyes. I'm seconds from sleeping as it crosses my mind. That everything changes and this is my time

Nina Gordon

It has been frustrating living so close to water knowing there is about 30 feet of chest deep mud between the firm shore and water deep enough to float a kayak.

Several plans over the spring were hatched, and almost as quickly they had to be shelved as first several plans to lengthen a dock were up ended by a flood that ripped the existing dock away.

Another plan was tested to build a 'ditch' through the mud to shore in order to launch near firm ground. But as summer came in the heat dried up the ditch.

The sun did create a 3-4" crust capable of supporting the weight of a walking human carrying a boat. It was still a messy ordeal to get into the water, but it was reachable, and another plan was tried to build a portable walkway over the mud.

So far, the walkway has worked well. The ability to roll the walkway up and off the mud when the rains come has worked as designed. The water is now within reach and the kayaking will commence...

Pictures

Woody

I haven't posted much this year, but I would be remiss in not acknowledging the the hand off of my first kayak.

The Guillemot was there on my first trip and took me on my very first Bill Dodge trip. She went with me the first day I paddled with my kids, and was there the day Greg Welker taught me how to roll.

My Guillemot seemed more submarine than kayak at times as she speared through every wave no matter how small. Even the most experienced kayaker couldn't paddle her far without the rudder. She loved to turn.

Excluding a few trips in Japan, she saw me come closer to harm than any of my other kayaks and brought me home safely. But before I had 50 trips under my belt I felt my skills had outgrown her and was looking to move on.

She rested quietly under a tarp for many years, coming out for a short period as my daughter moved up from her Necky Gannet. But for the last 5 years she languished under the tarp.

In the winter of 1998 I spent every spare moment after work and all day Saturday's and Sunday's placing cedar strips of wood next to each other until finally coating her with fiberglass and epoxy.

And on Jan 1st 1999 she made her (and mine) maiden voyage. I was lucky to live through that day.

I wish I could have paddled her once more. But it was a tight fit back when I weighed 165lbs. There is no way I could fit in the boat any longer.

The boat consumed so many hours in her assembly and brought so much pleasure over the years that it became invaluable to me. But she was wasting away under that blue tarp, so today I gave her away.

In the end it isn't the wood and fiberglass where the value lay, but in the memories that I keep.

Woody

Pictures

The song birds now wake me up each morning. As my eyes adjust from the sleep I look through my bedroom doorway past my living room and out at the lake. I smile.

Although I have been here for a month and a half, I haven't had a chance to get out on the lake to paddle with the exception of a short down river run to the dam, but I was looking forward to an up stream paddle as the dwellings appeared to thin out in that direction.

The 'lake' as it is called, is really the Occoquan Creek that has had it's flow interrupted by a dam a few miles down stream from where I live. But it has no resemblance to a lake at all as it twists and winds its way through Prince William County never getting more than a few dozen paddle strokes across.

The work day dragged on Friday as I waited for the time to pass so I could take my first adventure upstream. But once home it seemed like moments before I was changed and stepping in the mud to get in my kayak.

I backed away from shore and drew a deep breath. It felt good - the sunshine on my arms and face. It was at this moment I threw off the chill of winter and felt like I was truly embedded in spring.

There was a slight current heading upstream from the recent heavy rains. I could feel my right shoulder complain of the lack of paddling over the last several months.

Before long the houses fell away and I was alone on the creek. Paddling around each bend and feeling the slight breeze hit me from different angles. I passed ducks and geese, and even was entertained for a few minutes by a beaver making his way away from me.

A jet ski passed me at low speed, but a low fuel warning went off as they passed and the father and son pulled over to the bank to refuel.

I noticed a small log floating in the water and was thinking how it reminded me of an alligator tail. As I looked it slowly sank. It was alive, but I have no idea what it was. Possibly the back of a large turtle.

I turned around. I had been paddling into the sun for a while and without any sunscreen on I didn't want to burn. The jet ski, now refueled, continued on its way up the creek.

I noticed something fuzzy on the water. A giant ball of something. As I got close it suddenly ran at me across the water at high speed. I panicked and jolted as it ran right up to my cockpit until I realized it was a ball of fishing line. My paddle had snagged a submerged piece of line pulling the ball directly to me.

I saw what may have been a golden eagle. Much larger than a hawk, and a golden brown. It fled deeper into the woods as I paddled by. I've been surprised by all the wildlife I've seen in the last 6 weeks: squirrels, red tail hawks, deer, pileated woodpeckers, geese, mallards. As I sit here typing this a hawk flew across the water carrying a snake. Often in the early morning I see a lone bald eagle patrol the creek.

Before long I've returned home. I turn the kayak upside down against a tree and trudge up the hill to rinse off my water shoes before going inside. In a few moments it is dusk, and the song birds bring my day to a close.

Woody

It rained the entire trip to Leesylvania. But by the time I arrived it was just the occasional drip. Overcast with just the hint of a fog. The car top launch was closed, so I headed to the boat ramp and got a parking space up front.

A short paddle today, but my first for the year. Heading north to Farm Creek the water was glass smooth and felt a little thick. The kayak moved sluggishly through the water.

It was a short trip into the creek. The water was down so low that it was impossible to go beyond the pilings that cross the creek a short distance back.

After turning back out of the creek we headed to Freestone Point and explored the rocks up close. Many were undercut and appeared to be balanced on end on a pedestal. I'm often amazed at the interesting detail along the shore when we just stop and look. Just around the point a red fox scampered his way across the rocks and back in to the trees. The first time I've seen one here although I've heard others talk about them.

The paddle back to the launch was quiet and peaceful. Eating lunch by the water as the sun came out and colored my face a light pink. It was good to be on the water again...

Woody

Windier than I expected. Just the type of weather Patty likes. I hate the wind. I like the way it creates waves, but other than that, I just hate it.

We launched from Leesylvania and headed north. We crossed the boat ramps in short order, but we could see that out in Occoquan Bay the white caps. We knew that as we passed Whitestone Point we would be in the full force of it.

We paddled out from shore to stay out of range of the fishermen on the pier. And the closer we got to the point the louder we had to talk to hear each other. Once we rounded the point Patty mentioned going to Farm Creek, which lay directly up wind of our position.

"Do you want to paddle straight across or hug the shore to stay out of the wind?" I asked. She didn't need to reply as I already knew her answer. So off we headed into the wind. And an adventure it was. It started as gusts, but turned in to a steady blow. I gripped my paddle so hard to keep the wind from taking it that this short paddle would make a nasty blister on my right hand.

As the wind picked up we started to notice that the duck blind along shore wasn't moving. More accurately we noticed WE weren't moving. We dug in. The ache in my arms grew louder as we continued - inch by inch - toward Farm Creek.

Then it began to slacken. Just a tiny bit at first. As we moved toward the wind shadow created by a clump of trees ahead of us, the inches became feet until we were fully inside the creek and protected by the wind.

The relief was shocking. It almost seemed as though I was suddenly super human - moving my kayak forward with the lightest of strokes. We flushed ducks out of the creek for a short distance before the vegetation blocked our way.

We exited the creek the way we came in, passing some fishermen at the mouth. With deliberate purpose we headed out toward the river. We wanted to catch the full force of the wind for the ride back. At speed it almost seemed quiet. We could hear each other speak without shouting moving in this direction - A trick one should remember if you need to have a conversation with someone while paddling in high winds.

We surfed a few waves, but they were really too steep and short to get any good rides. But the wind pushed us along very fast. What took us an hour and 15 minutes to go out, took only 45 to get back. We rounded the end of Leesylvania by the car top launch and fell in to the lee. A short day but I was tired but satisfied with the paddle, despite the blister....

Woody

Somewhere in between the planes passing overhead and the traffic passing over the Key bridge, I found an inner peace sitting beside the river at Jack's Boathouse. With the cool breeze blowing across the water I caught up on the latest happenings from Frank. A lot has changed in the 2 years since I had been here.

I sat and looked for a few hours before finally getting on the water. Paddling and drifting in the wind up to Fletcher's then lazily paddling back up the opposite side of the river. Hunger had gotten the best of me so I checked in with Frank to find out how many Pirates were still out. As darkness fell pizza was ordered and would be waiting for the rest of the folks when they returned.

Marshall drove in to pick up his boat and we caught up while eating some pizza. Shortly after he left the kayaks came in and there was a whole new group to catch up with. Well fed and sleepy it was time to head home. Going in to work so early makes kayaking in Georgetown difficult. But I miss this place.

Woody

Yesterday had been clear skies with cool temperatures. There was almost no one at the park, despite this being Labor day weekend. It was such a perfect day I was afraid to disturb it - so I didn't. I pulled up a bench and just sat and looked. I sat some more and looked some more. Then I sat for a while and looked till I thought my soul was filled to the brim. Then I had lunch.

After lunch I sat and looked some more before heading home. I like days like this.

Today was a little warmer. The wind more slight as I edged away from shore. I headed out toward Conrad island, gliding over Hydrilla and Coons Tail. The shallow water dragged at my kayak and I felt tightness in my shoulders as I pulled through the water. A tug pushing two barges of sand headed up river.

At Conrad the boat traffic seemed light so I sprinted across the channel and turned left, thinking I would paddle around to Marumsco creek. The Cicadas soon drowned out all other sounds. Their song telling me Summer is coming to an end.

As I crossed the Occoquan Wildlife Refuge, I noticed a bit ahead of me two duck blinds, each with a jet black john boat tied up to them. Blast. The scene reminds me that Labor Day weekend also signals the beginning of hunting season. I heel around and head up the Occoquan, not wanting to disturb the hunters.

By now a steady parade of boats were streaming out of the marinas further up the Occoquan. It would not be safe to cross the channel where I had crossed earlier so I paddled up to near the railroad bridge. I was well within the no wake zone now and a narrow section here made it easy work to cross without affecting traffic.

For the return trip I hugged the eastern shore before turning back toward the park. The Hydrilla was thick and each paddle stroke had to be timed to avoid getting hung up in the green vegetation. The floating green mounds were interspersed with bright white feathers. Small air bubbles attached to the feathers made them so bright it was difficult to look at them even with my sunglasses.

I put my kayak away on the car and wondered back to the shore to have one last look. Deep breath.

My Daughter turned 17 this month. This seems like yesterday....

Woody

Throughout my travels in the northern and middle necks I've come to really like the people there. You can tell though, there are impacts from the more affluent northern Virginia crowd that is invading. Buying up all the water front properties, building 'McMansions', and putting up ADT signs in the front yard, they stick out like a giant pimple on otherwise rural country communities.

While crossing the upper Mattaponi river, I stopped to check out a public launch where 360 crosses and enjoyed the intimacy but was curious about the speedy current going through there. The current ran fast, and looked to be driven by tide. After making note that it was a 'possible return trip' I got back in the car as a truck backed in with a boat on the trailer.

I waited a moment as he backed in, but rather than go down the ramp he parked right next to me. I wondered why he did that and then noticed a young girl at my window. "Ya'll can leave now", she said. I was taken aback, not used to being ordered around by a child. It took a moment to register and she said it again - "Ya'll can leave now"

Then it clicked. She wasn't ordering me to leave, she was telling me it was ok to back out. Her father had avoided the ramp to keep from blocking me in as I left. I felt a bit embarrassed that I had initially thought the worse, when in fact this was the pure country politeness that I had come to love about this area that was showing through.

Lodge Landing was my choice to launch from for the weekend. A tributary off the South Yeocomico River near Callao, Va. Paddling left from the launch takes you out to the river, right takes you in to a well protected and very shallow creek.

As I launched a very polite fisherman held off pulling his boat out of the water while I launched. I want to live here.

In the shallows the water was so muddy it was obvious something was stirring it up. The water began to boil with fish and was so thick it was impossible to take a stroke without hitting them. They banged the underside of the boat and gave the visual that I was paddling though small rapids.

The heat was unbearable, and with the water saturated with Sea Nettles this made for a very hot trip. I decided to keep it short and opted to find shade to spend the remainder of the afternoon.

When: Friday, Sept. 10, 6 p.m. Where: Paul Bride Gallery Cost: Free! From a quick visit to Paul Bride's website it's clear that this photographer is in his element in the great outdoors.

Snorkelers venture into Lewis Cut off Boca Chita Key. About 95 percent of Biscayne National Park is water.

Labor Day weekend marks the end of summer for most. The kids return to school the following day.

Five years after Hurricane Katrina's wrath, President Barack Obama sought to reassure disaster-weary Gulf Coast residents Sunday that he would not abandon their cause.

One of the best ways to learn to appreciate and respect nature is to get out in it.

A Lake Tahoe area woman drowned Sunday afternoon while kayaking in the North Fork of the Feather River, west of the Bucks Powerhouse.

Ibiza is a firmly established hedonist's paradise, but away from the throbbing basslines of its superclubs the island has a seductive rural heart which is a haven for hiking, biking, kayaking and rock climbing.

The body of a woman believed to be missing kayaker Elizabeth Ashbee has been found in the sea off the North Wales coast.

As summer slips away and evening turns to night a little earlier each day, it won't be long and we'll have to reclaim our jackets from the back of the closet.

With the push of a paddle from the bank of the Clinton River, the Macomb County Sheriff's Department launched a new kayak patrol today.

James Dickey gave Ed a canoe, Evil Knievel designed a rocket and Huck Finn had a raft.

Patricia Altomare of Pat's Kitchen column shares her recipe for homemade fried chicken.

It wasn't the headline I had envisioned for my demise in the Alaskan wilderness.

Midget-class racers Alexandra Joy and Madeline Schmidt, as well as junior men's paddler Ben Tardioli, led the charge as the Rideau Canoe Club captured 18 medals at the recent Canadian canoe-kayak flatwater championships in Regina.

CASCADING waterfalls, a stately blue heron, snapping turtles - the river I was paddling down was alive with nature.

There were many skills I thought I'd master on my recent kayaking trip in Johnstone Strait, but learning how to burn pee-soaked toilet paper hadn't made that list.

"Keep Lake Tahoe Blue" -- it's only a slogan until you're on a kayak at Lake Tahoe with the azure water lapping -- nay, climbing -- over the top of your boat.

Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O, and on his farm he had some bike-pedaling, kayak-paddling agritourists.

Last week Rich Komar and I hooked up the trailer with my kayaks and hit the road for Shabbona Lake.

The San Juans are a fairly well known tourist attraction that brings a decent amount of attention and tourists .