Life ON The River

You have just got to love paddling a canoe through a marked speed zone on The Sacramento River! I would casually wind my way through a matrix of moored boats anchored and docked like a little city on the water. If I saw a human being I would shout out, " I just cut my speed to four mph so my wake wouldn't disturb your boat at rest "! They would laugh and offer me a cup of coffee if it was morning or a beer in the afternoon. I must admit I loved the solitude of the long stretches of river where there is no human contact but coming upon pockets of civilization had its rewards also. It's amazing what a joy a simple conversation with someone is after not speaking for 24 hours or more! Walking on " Sea Legs " to a store to get beer and supplies was always an adventure. Finding a place to park and getting your first glimpse after climbing the levee of the possibillities of finding a head or a store wasn't always a given. There are outposts on the river that have a post office, a store that carries very little, a bait shop but no toilet or gas station. Forget about a pub. So you just never know what you'll find when you top the levee. There were a few days there when I wished my canoe was equipted with a port-a-potty! When I stopped at Rio Vista and went into town I felt like I had just come into New York City! The contrast from extreme isolation to total sensory bombardment was so severe it felt like culture shock! Usually I exhibit 100% extroversion. But after zero human interaction for long periods my people skills flew out the window leaving me speechless as if dumbstruck. This turned out to be a blessing in disquise as most farm or fish orientated small towns don't need a hyper-metabollic, machine gun, word firing, companion starved, bread shopper in their store! So I shopped, saying very little, went back to my canoe and continued my journey. As the days went on the river cast a spell on me re-birthing me into one of her children, altering me to her course and ways and moods. I love how subtly the city gets washed out by the ways of the country. Admitedly it's not for everyone but it's for me!

Power Trippers

Just as every surfer manifests his total identity, reveals his very nature, tells someone with a discerning eye, who he is and what he is about while riding his wave, so do all who drive their vessels on our water highways! It doesn't matter if it's a sailboat ( tri-marran, catamarran, or mono-hull ), powerboat, jet-ski, surfboard, canoe, kayak or sailboard! We tell each other a lot about ourselves by the etiquite we demonstrate while launching, using and picking up our vehicles. we are being scrutinized every step of the way by the curious and the furious! Why do stink-boat captains hate sailors? Why do sailors hate powerboats? Why do mono-hull sailors dispute with multi-hull sailors? Why do blue-water sailors have a hard time rubbing elbows with racing sailors? Why does everyone hate jet-skiers? We all know why, don't we! I'm a blue-water sailor who doesn't enjoy racing but my wife is a racing sailor. She enjoys blue-water. I enjoy power boats with my friends, and even though I prefer mono-hulls have had great sailing experiences on multi-hulls! The point that I would like to share with all people who use water for pleasure is to share it. The gracious skipper gladly follows " the rules of the road ", not because he has to but they come natural to him. In the course of upcoming posts I'm going to share with you good and bad stories, good skippers and good skippers making bad decisions! Ha! On this latest canoe journey I was thankful for the few arrogant stinkboat drivers who relished showing me the size of their rooster-tail! Some stretchs of The Sacramento River are not only tedious but hynotically monotonous. The timed stroke repetition mixed with the heat would have been maddening save for the occassional ego-centric, power mad, big-waking, engine screaming, powerboat trippers!!! Little did they know as they roared by, peddle to the metal, knowing they were showing canoe-boy who the " River " belonged to! I turned to dance with the beautiful waves they sent this ancient surfer, gleefully riding naturally what I have been doing my entire life, laughing at how divinely poetic God is! What they thought they were sending me was a devastating wake with a definate possibillity that I might be swamped! But what they couldn't see or know was God laughing at how he had used their ignorance and rebelious arrogance to give his friend ( me ) some bitchin waves to play on! Ain't life grand?http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tf71tBYXbmk

Tide, Current, Wind and lahaina ( unmerciful sun in Hawaiian )

My fourth day out I realized that the motion of a canoe has the same effect on our equilibrium as a rolling deck! Sleeping on land felt like I was bobbing along in my canoe. It is a quite pleasant sensation! Very soothing. It helped me to sleep because my sunburn was more uncomfortable than painful and the illusory motion mixed with fatigue and the beauty of the skies smoothed me into oblivion. I needed to find a place to retire because just past Antioch I could not fight the head wind against tide any longer! I wasn't making any noticeable headway and was not enthralled by the view of miles of factories and warehouses! Without a drastic wind change it was fruitless to continue beating myself up for so little reward! I thought I would sleep on it and see what Mother Nature delivered to me in the morning. The night before while sleeping on a steeply pitched sandy beach near Rio Vista the incoming tide attempted to drag me and my sleeping bag into the current for a midnight swim! As it rose I kept ahead of it until I could go no further as I had run out of beach and was backed up against a potpourri of sticker berries, vines, bamboo, bushes and trees! In the middle of the night I was forced to get in my canoe and seek dryer, above the high tide line, lodgings! So! Wouldn't you think I had learned a very valuable lesson? The closer you get to the ocean the more drastic the rivers behavior is altered by tidal influences. Don't forget that river paddlers! Ha! I found this perfect little dock in the Estuary area. It was a fixed dock with a flood-gate open-close wheel at the end of the dock. Two 12' planks just wide enough for my sleeping bag and slightly protected from the wind that had halted my progress, perfect! I was looking forward to sleeping on a flat surface for the first time in days. I woke up to water lapping at the bottom of the 2x12's. I couldn't believe it was happening again! I moved my damp sleeping bag to the rocky pathway ( if you could call it that ) and watched in awe as the delta brackish salt-water covered my bed with six inches of water! I imagined myself asleep under water as if I had refused to budge and remained where I had been sleeping such a short time ago! When I had layed out my sleeping arrangement the water had been five feet below me and the boards were bone dry looking like the desert remains of a cow head with bones bleached and cleaned by the heat from an unmerciful desert sun!!! I chuckled to myself all night. Between my sunburn, the tidal battle day AND NIGHT, opposing wind, three foot chop on the nose, and fatigue, I was probably delirious. Joyously delirious because I knew and know that I was having not just an experience but the time of my life!!

7 daze in a canoe

Living on the American River in Sacramento without my canoe would be to me like living in Hawaii without a mask and snorkel and a surfboard! Just knowing that I can walk out my door, get in my 15' Dagger and with the determination of Hannibal ( the Hun ) crossing the Alps on his way to Rome with his elephants, make my way to the Pacific Ocean. I decided I was ready after preparing myself with long day paddles up and down The American River. The flora and fauna are like a who's who of a wild west! Rattlesnakes are around so one keeps one's eyes and ears open when launching and landing! Deer, beaver, turtles, badger, hawks, coyotes, turkeys, ducks, geese, cranes, owls, stripers, salmon and more abound. The flora is as varied as the fauna and is dictated by which bend in the river you're on! It's a mish-mash of color and sounds. The American flows to downtown Sacramento where it joins the Feather River, doubling up to become The Sacramento River which is navigable and deep enough for a commercal shipping lane to San Francisco. You can sail from Sacramento to Hawaii! There are sailboat marinas in Sacramento and cities on the River all the way to S.F. And so, my story, " Seven Daze In A Canoe ". Begins

Today and yesterday, Maybe tomarrow!

Saturday, today, I am provisioned to the ten's! My canoe is( as I speak ) loaded! I walk out of my garage! I have wheels on my 15 foot canoe. I go over the levee and launch into the American River! Sutter historically anounced " Eurecka ", from this very river that connects to the Sacramento River The Feather River also joins the Sacramento. This connected waterway made Gold what it is today! Ha! Only joking! Everyone knows San Francisco is the capital of California! Ask Arnold? If it had been left up to Ronnie, the capital would have been Santa Barbara! I wonder if canoes are allowed at the Saint Franscis Yacht Harbor? I just might find out!!!

Captain Cook

There comes a time in every true sailor's life that said sailor must speak of one who has/had inspired said sailor to come forward and tell the truth! Are you running frowards? Or are you just running? I will tell you the truth but it may sound like a yarn! Everywhere I have sailed in this Ocean called the " Pacific "! I have come across a name and it is likely, Captain James Cook "! I lived in the islands that he had sailed into and lost his life for many years before I was a bairn! I went to the place, which is the southernmost, of a very big island, called Hawaii!!!! They tore him into pieces, not their fault! They thought Cook was Lono! If life was a wishing well! Damn the storm that made his vessel return to that bay on the "Big Island " of Hawaii! Yes they tore him apart but at least most of his body parts are buried in his home country! His spirit and his name exist in small and large places I have had the honor to sail to and through. Welcome to the coming sailing stories of the places I have sailed where the greatest sailor, with permission and blessing and sorry, commandmant, from the Queen, was allowed to leave his family on his third exploritory mission for God and Country!!!

Hardtack ( ugh ! )

History

"Baked hard, it would keep for years as long as it was kept dry. For long voyages, hardtack was baked four times, rather than the more common two, and prepared six months before sailing."



"In 1801, Josiah Bent began a baking operation in Milton, Massachusetts selling "water crackers" or biscuits made of flour and water that would not deteriorate during long sea voyages from the port of Boston, which was also used extensively as a source of food by the "gold diggers" emigration to the gold mines of California in 1849. Since the journey took months from the starting point, pilot bread was stored in the wagon trains, as it could be kept a long time. His company later sold the original hardtack crackers used by troops during the American Civil War. The G. H. Bent Company is still located in Milton, and continues to sell these items to Civil War re-enactors and others."



"During the American Civil War, 3-inch by 3-inch hardtack was shipped out from Union and Confederate storehouses. Some of this hardtack had been stored from the 1846–8 Mexican-American War. With insect infestation common in improperly stored provisions, soldiers would breakup the hardtack and drop it into their morning coffee. This would not only soften the hardtack but the insects, mostly weevil larvae, would float to the top and the soldiers could skim off the insects and resume consumption."



Fun Food Facts:

Pirates & Seamen would tap their biscuits on the table (remember these biscuits were hard) to knock most of the weevils out before eating. If the biscuit was going to be eaten in a broth, they would emerge the sea biscuit in the liquid and wait. "Wait? Wait for what?" They would wait for the maggots to float to the top of the liquid so they could remove them before eating. Some Pirates were so tough, seeing all these maggots and weevils didn't bother them at all. They would eat the food with or without the crawling and wiggling little critters.



Hard Tack is also know as:

sea biscuit, sea bread, hard bread, pilot bread, worm castles or ships biscuits.

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Kind of like the worm in a good bottle of Tequila? Do you think when you read about being shanghaied that sailing aroud the Horn would be a good thing? Knocked on the noggin, waking up before the mast! Wondering where Annabel Lee is now? Have you ever been in a storm on land so ferousious that you didn't think you would survive? Imagine being in that same storm on a vessel at sea with land close by!!!! Scary? Yea!!