A Weedy Paddle with Jasmine

On Labor Day I decided to try out a new place to kayak, and drove to Crows Nest Natural Preserve near Fredericksburg. I knew I had to follow Brooke Road, but inadvertently followed it to the end, where I actually ended up at Aquia Park, but at the time I didn't know I'd made an error. I was amazed to arrive and find hardly a soul was there. I drove along the beach front, looking out on to calm waters with a couple of fishing boats nearer land and beyond them a speed boat skipped across the horizon. Only a couple of people were sunbathing on the sand, and I stopped to ask a local guy who was strolling along, where to park to unload my kayak. "You talking about that?", he said, cocking a thumb at Big Red. "Just pull it off and dump it in anywhere!" So I did. I parked at a small space near the end of the beach, thinking I'd come across a hidden gem that barely a soul, apart from the locals, knew about.

As I got out of the car I immediately noticed the most gorgeous scent of wild jasmine. Millions of flowers were blooming along the roadside and next to where I'd parked the car, the vines spreading high over undergrowth and clambering up small trees. I had to stand and just sniff for a few minutes. If I closed my eyes, the scent wafting across to me on a gentle cool breeze, and my toes burrowing into the soft warm sand made it believable that I was on a tropical island. I relished the sensation for a while, delighting that there was nobody about to witness my experience.I likely looked pretty odd standing there with my eyes shut and a big grin on my face!

I loaded up the boat with drinks and my waterproof bag, my iPhone again in its plastic waterproof case. The water was warm as I pushed off but there was a lot of weed sitting below the surface, obviously the reason that the boats with engines weren't able to come near. But it wasn't that difficult to paddle through and I plodded along, following the sandy beach around a corner which turned into Aquia Creek. The beach area looked out onto the Potomac River, which seemed like a sea, barely able to see the coastline on the other side.

Round the corner was a pretty little golden beach area with sparkling quartz gravel washed by the waves that rolled up onto the sand from the boats passing by. The wonderful scent of the jasmine was here also, the white flowers drifting down to the ground.It really was a lovely experience, paddling while being surrounded by perfume.

There were a few blinds along the banks but none were occupied and I saw no ducks or possible game. A few cormorants sat on wooden posts alongside some seagulls. An abandoned osprey nest jutted up out of the water, close to wooden jetties, a few with boats tied up alongside. The weed was quite thick along here too but I persevered with my paddling, pushing to keep the boat moving as it was hard to get started again once I stopped. This was certainly a great workout!

I passed this house and spied a guy on the grass swinging a golf club. I soon realized that he wasn't just practicing his strokes, he was actually shooting gold balls into the river, right towards me. I couldn't believe my eyes. He had definitely seen my bright red boat but continued on regardless with his mindless pollution. I heard one them come into contact with the jetty close behind me, a hard thwack as it hit the wood. I stopped paddling and zoomed my camera in on him. If he was going to persist in his obnoxious target practice then I was going to get an identifiable photo of him. If he hit me, he'd have a hefty lawsuit against him, which I knew he could afford judging by the size of his house and the numerous cars parked next to it. I resumed paddling, tempted to give him a one finger salute, but decided he simply wasn't worth it. He had noticed me taking pictures though, which gave me some satisfaction.

I continued along the riverbank, stopping for a rest and a drink next to a cliff, which provided some welcome cool shade. A few trees were clinging defiantly to the side but looking as though their time to fall was near. I stayed a little ways out, just in case. I could hear a fleet of power boats heading towards me, making their way to the open mouth of the creek. Their high pitched whining sounded like air planes as they skimmed past over the surface of the water, then accelerated once clear of the river mouth, their engines opening up and sounding like they were actually going to take off and fly. I turned Big Red towards the middle of the river and waited for their wake to hit me. I spent a few very pleasant minutes bobbing up and down on the rolling waves as they swept under me, hit the cliff, and then returned to bounce me about again. It was like a roller coaster ride.

I thought this was a kayak rental company until I realized they all belonged to one private house. They obviously have a lot of friends and family to entertain!

Why, oh why, do these blue herons always lay an incredibly huge guilt trip on me whenever I come across them? I was the only kayaker anywhere near the river bank and unfortunately upset him, causing a huge flapping of wings and very loud croaking complaints as he emerged from a low tree branch where he'd sat hidden. He made it abundantly clear that he was extremely pissed and then proceeded to fly in slow circles above me, all the while, expressing his displeasure, before finally settling on a rickety wooden platform, destroying the quiet serenity that a resting gull had been enjoying, and then continued to lament loudly to the poor bird until I passed by far enough so he could return to his bank perch again. I was actually quite glad that I couldn't understand bird language as I'm sure the air would have been bluer than the sky above, but he certainly did a very good job in sending me off with a flea in my ear, with my head cowered, paddling as fast as possible to exit his personal space and his blasting wrath. The poor seagull looked a little shell shocked too, and I swore his head ducked into his shoulders as the heron squawked and squallered, his head bobbing up and down.

The tide seemed to be coming in as I turned around and started back towards the car. But the weed was still prominent, although it was a little easier to paddle through on the return journey. I was amazed when I turned the corner and discovered the empty beach I'd left earlier had now filled up with a couple of families with hoards of kids. The air was filled with screams and laughter as they splashed in the shallow water. A couple of ladies were setting up an umbrella near where I'd parked and they told me the beach is well maintained, the sand raked over and some of the weed removed when it becomes overgrown. This had been a welcome change from the waterways nearer home, although I will return to paddle the Crows Nest Preserve in the near future, since I'd that had been my original destination.

The iPhone photos turned out better than last week's although I was surprised at how murky the water appeared in them. The last photo is the sky from underwater. I'm looking forward to seeing how the new iPhone will perform underwater since it's supposedly going to be waterproof and won't need any additional protection. The casing I use on my current phone likely deteriorates the quality of any shots taken.
On the way home I stopped to photograph a swamp area. It was quiet and peaceful, but not a critter in sight. The water was clear and glassy, the trees empty of birdsong. I heard just one plop of a turtle disappearing underwater as I approached the bank and then I had the area totally to myself.No jasmine here but I could still smell the wild grasses. I enjoyed the sweetness for a few still moments before the drive home.