This could also be titled Trials and Tribulations of an Dumb, Old Rookie.
Last year was my first year sea kayaking. After a couple of 4 day trips between the Kennebec and Sheepscott rivers in Maine, USA and many day trips, I headed to Acadia National Park in Maine by myself last September. After a 6 or 7 hour drive I arrived at Seawall State (I think) Park Campgrounds which is located at the far southeastern tip of Mt. Desert Island, across the road from the Atlantic. While setting up camp I noticed my hearing aid was missing. After a thorough search of the truck I gave it up as lost. I only stopped twice on the way up, once for gas and once to whiz. I guess I whizzed it away along the side of the road somewhere. The first morning awoke to a really heavy mist. The kind where you wish it would rain and get it over with. With the heavy fog, I figured I'd head out to Seal Cove, 10-15 miles away and just hug the coast. All I had was a guide book and a little map of the island but I found my way without too much problem. Seal Cove is a small harbor with about 15-20 small sail & lobster boats, maybe a couple of power boats. As I was unloading the 'yak, it started to rain and then it started to pour. I happen to like paddling in the rain, as long as those jagged flashy things in the sky don't bite me. As the rain came down, the fog started to clear a little so I took off. I paddled up past Hardwood Island to Bartlett Island. There's a salmon fishery over there I wanted to take a peek at and the wind and waves were moderate so I headed out into the ½ mile crossing. Halfway across, the waves picked up to 3-3 ½ footers and I spent a lot of time surfing. I paddle a FG Looksha IV and don't use the rudder much. I would have liked to use it there but didn't feel stable enough to reach around and drop it. After getting knocked sidewise a couple of times I started using my paddle for a rudder and didn't worry about how fast I was getting to the other side. There were people working out on the fishery so I bypassed it and kept going on up to the far end of Bartlett, stopping for lunch and to watch some harbor seals. The fog was completely gone now so I decided to go on around and come back on the outside (exposed) of Bartlett. About half way back, the wind and waves picked up for an hour or so and I was heading directly into them. I also like this kind of paddling (sometimes). The wind died down and the fog moved in and I'm hugging the shore. About 2/3 of the way back I decide to take a break on a rocky beach. The tide's about 1/2 in. I pull the kayak up, take off my rain gear and PFD, drop the jacket on the kayak, and take the PFD up the beach a little way to sit on. I have some water and cheese, head back to the 'yak, put my jacket on and take off, leaving the PFD, with my car keys in it, behind. I get to the end of Bartlett Island and I can barely see Hardwood Island across about a 1/4 mile channel and head for it. The fog is really heavy now and Hardwood seems to be much longer than I remember 'cause I keep paddling and paddling and it doesn't end. I 'm starting to doubt myself so when I finally get to the end, I decide I better come back up the other side to see if I recognize anything. About this time I see a lobsterman pulling traps and paddle like hell towards him. He's reset his trap and is getting ready to move on when he sees me. I wave at him and he waves back and prepares to take off. I wave a little (ok, a lot) more frantically and he waits for me to come out to him. I ask him where Seal Cove is and he points into the solid blanket of fog and says "Land's over thata way. When you get there turn right and Seal Cove is a couple of miles down the coast." and takes off. So now I'm sitting there. I can barely see the outline of Hardwood Island behind me and nothing but a solid wall of gray mist in front of me. My first thought is if I miss land, the next stop will be Spain or Portugal. I thought it might be a good idea to look at my deck mounted compass and saw I was heading almost due east. I knew I should hit land in 15-20 minutes or so and figured if I didn't, I'd turn around and head due west and (hopefully) hit Hardwood Island again (or North Africa). Well, after 5-10 minutes of paddling I start to see a dark streak in the fog that turns out to be the coast and I paddle a couple of miles back to Seal Cove. I pull the kayak up on the beach and go to take my PFD off when I finally realize, it ain't there. What a feeling that was. Bummer. Following that came the realization that my only set of car keys are in the PFD. Double bummer. I get back in the kayak and head back out the harbor in total fog. When I get to the harbor mouth, I finally stop and think. I've got to paddle an hour or so to some point I'm not sure of. Make the 1/2 mile crossing again in total fog, hope to hit Hardwood Island, paddle up the outside of the island, find the spot I took my break in, all before the tide comes in and washes the PFD away. Then I get to come all the way back in the fog and the dark. I've been out all day and am already pretty tired. Does that seem like a really good idea? Well, maybe not. But now what am I going to do? So here I am, standing beside a truck with no keys, 5 o'clock on a Friday afternoon, in a sparsely settled area, miles from a telephone, hundreds of miles from home by myself in the fog. That'll put a damper on a vacation. :-( I went up to a house and knocked on the door (something I really hate doing). A young woman (with a nose ring) answered the door and offered to call a friend of hers named Toby with a tow truck and invited me into the house. I was still pretty wet so just stayed on the porch. When she came back she said the Toby was out making a delivery in Ellsworth but would be back in an hour or so. I thanked her profusely and headed back to the truck to wait. Half an hour later a (part time) lobsterman pulls up to the ramp. I offered him a few bucks to take me back out to look for the PFD. He hemmed and hawed for a couple of minutes and then agrees but then takes off without me???? He spent half an hour or so hugging the shoreline looking for a PFD that was out on an island???? Needless to say he didn't find it. Another lady from the same house came by with a cup of tea and offered to give me a ride. I declined, indicating I better hang around for Toby. An hour later, no Toby and it's now dark so I start the 10-15 mile walk back to the camp ground. I still have my farmer john on and a heavy fleece shirt/jacket and I've put my wallet and checkbook in the shirt pockets. I head off down this dirt road with trees on both sides and it is pitch black and I can barely see the outline of the road. I start sweating and take the shirt off and toss it over my arm. A few minutes later I check the pockets to make sure my wallet and checkbook are still there and they aren't. :-( I don't really know how far I've come and I can barely see the road but what choice do I have? I start back, bending over to touch every dark spot I think I see on the road. (I grabbed my foot once). Fortunately I found them both after 5 minutes. I hit a main road and caught a couple of rides from a local lobsterman and an (apparently) drunken oriental guy. This next morning I hook up with Toby and he takes me to a garage where they manage to pick the ignition lock. All they really do is get the car out of lock so you can start it. The guy told me, whatever you do, when you turn the car off, don't turn it all the way to lock or you'll be back in the same situation. It was pouring down rain off and on so I decided to go over to Bar Harbor, a favorite tourist town for the day. The next day I go over to Southwest Harbor for a looksee, except I can't looksee because of all the fog. I decide to put in anyway (I had a 2nd PFD in the truck) with the thought that I'll just putt around and look at the sailboats that must be out there somewhere. How much trouble can I get into anyway? I paddle around for a while and become hopelessly disoriented. Never thought to look at the compass. Eventually I banged into the Coast Guard station which was directly across from my put in so I decided to just hug the coast and go 'somewhere'. After paddling for an hour or so I hit what I finally figured out is Sommes Sound, supposedly the only fjord on the East Coast. The fog starts to lift some and a bald eagle flys directly overhead and lands in a tree about 50 feet up the side of a cliff. Cool! That's only the 2nd time I've seen a bald eagle. We watch each other for 5 minutes or so and then I take off. The fog keeps lifting and I get down to the end of Sommes Sound and turn around to head back and had my breath taken away. Absolutely spectacular. Here is a channel of water about 1/4 mile wide by about 1 1/2 miles long with a sheer 100+ foot cliff on one side and a mountain on the other. About 1/2 way up the sound is a 40-50 foot sailboat (sails down) motoring towards me. The sun is out now and the whole scene is as beautiful as anything I've ever seen and I sat there a good 10 minutes, just taking it all in. Unfortunately, no camera. I came out of Sommes Sound and saw many great looking/big houses, maybe baby mansions. I headed up to Northeast Harbor but the fog came in again and it occurred to me that God was looking down and just wanted me to have those few minutes with that tremendous view and I told him, thanks. So I headed back towards Southwest Harbor and the sun came back out again. Rather than follow the same route all the way back I made a crossing of about a mile or so and got to dodge power boats, sight seeing boats, etc. There were also some great looking sailboats under sail out there too. I got back to Southeast Harbor at dead low tide and drove the truck down the ramp. Ya know how there are certain things you do automatically. Like put the truck in 1st gear, put the emergency brake on, open the door, start to step out, turn the ignition off, all in a series of fluid motions? Yup! I turned that sucker all the way on lock. :-( 4:30 Sunday afternoon at the very bottom of a boat ramp at dead low tide. S**t!!!! TOOOOOBBBBBYYYYY!!!!!! I've still got his number in my pocket so I ask a couple of guys working on an old tug boat where I can find a phone. They say the restaurant across the street. I go over there but it's closed. S**t!!!! I peek at my truck at the bottom of the ramp and the water is right behind the rear tires. I see a marine store down the road about 1/4 mile. I jog down to it (I'm not a runner). Closed. S**t!!!! I remember a corner store about 1/2 mile up the road. I jog up to it. Closed. S**t!!!! But there's a phone outside. And I have a quarter. And I have Toby's phone number. And Toby answers the phone. In a mild (ok, a lot of) panic, I tell him my predicament and he says he's in the middle of his Sunday afternoon case of beer but will come out anyway. I jog (walk) back and Toby's already backing down the ramp. He gets out of his truck with a beer in his hand (guess he was serious about that), puts his hand on my shoulder, looks down at the ground, shakes his head and says " I don't mean to laugh at you, but.... AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!". He backs down, hooks me up, starts to pull me up and something pops on his truck and hydrolic fluid is leaking all over the place. I yell at him, he gets out and looks at it, shrugs his shoulders and gets back in and pulls me out of the Atlantic Ocean. It seems tow trucks are not really designed to pull a car up a ramp at that angle. I don't care, I'm outta da water. Yeahhh!!! Toby starts telling me about how he gets a call from a guy one night at the same ramp. When he gets there, all he sees is a pair of headlight shining up out of the water. The garage guy picked my lock again the next morning. I thought it might be a good idea if I went home then. Ion the way off of Mt Desert Island, I briefly considered visiting some coastal caves but decided to save them for next time. There's a whole lot of lessons to be learned there. I'm not sure of all of them yet but I'll certainly think about things a little more. I came out of this very cheaply, in more ways than one. Did I have a good time. You bet!
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