POLAR KAYAK EXPEDITION
LATTITUDE 29 NORTH
Major
Minor of Tide Guide Kayaks and Senior Pinto Beene of the San Antonio River
Authority paddled 54 miles down the outside coast of Matagorda Island State
Park and San Jose Island.
TRIP
LOG: March 13-16 1997
Thur.
Morn.
Boarded the State Parks ferryboat along with 40 Boy
Scouts and a few fishermen. Ronny
Gallagher TP&W Superintendent
offered us a complimentary boat ride and wished us well saying “better you than
me Bill”. Shortly after arriving at the
park while we were looking after our boats and milling around talking with
fellow passengers we were almost, stunned when a Boy Scout rode past us. He had a load of his camping supplies and
was being followed by his scoutmaster. Now I never figured boy scouts was for
me and as for Pinto, well girl scouts would be the club might interest him to
ever join. This scoutmaster was
instructing his bicyceler to procure a life jacket, “while riding on the
island” or dismount. The kid looked
stunned, I’m sure he was planning to put maybe a dead fish in the Dork
scoutmaster’s sleeping bag that evening.
We strolled around and smoked cigars and after awhile
Duane sent a truck over for us and our boats.
The sign on the road said “gulf of Mexico that a way”. The weather was pretty nice and when we got
to the gulf it was gentle looking with 1-2 foot surf going out 100 yards or
so. Just fine for launching our
expedition to Port “A”. We had been
planning this Sea Cruise for 3 years.
Pinto’s idea if I remember right.
Ocean Kayak touring is very advanced in my opinion, so in
preparation I had checked with Ronny
Gallagher and a surfer friend of ours and Boat captain Steve Allen he runs
Shlitterbahns Hatteras out into the Gulf on a regular basis. Both men agreed that the gulf stream runs
east – west in the winter, maybe up to 6 knots. After eating and getting the boats launched from the east tip of
Matagorda we pointed west and shoved off thru the easy surf onto the rollering
gulf and into a south east breeze of 5-10
knots, warn and sunny out. After
awhile I got near Beene and asked him.
Did you see that shipwreck up in the dunes? He said, yep. Like I said
this being out here in the gulf is Beene's idea. I’m perfectly happy just rowing around in the Lagunas which are 2
miles the other side of the island and parallels us all the way. Beene figured we better ought to do
this. Edgar Duncan, Larry Elder and
Pancho Howze were supposed to ride along ___________!!!, WEENIES. The real thing that bothers me rowing on the
ocean is land might be within sight thru the washing machine (surf Zone) one
side of your boat, the other side of your sled is
Cube-rrrr (Cuba). That’s why I’m smart enough to spend most of
my time in the Lagunas. So this rowing
around out here kinda gives me the HE –BE-GEE-BEE’S. We stay pretty close together as we row along, then Beene says,
Theirs another shipwreck, I Say’s,
Yep. We have 4 days to go 54
miles. Plenty of food, booze, tents,
warm clothes and whatever else. I
called Chris Pease the Federal Warden out here to let him know we were going to
be cruising by his refuge. It kinda
thru him when I said we would be in the gulf, not the Laguna. There’s to be no hiking around on the refuge
He says, I guess he’s right, Whopping Cranes and all kinds of wild animals
around out there. We must have paddled
5 miles when I get hungry. Pinto has
bread and peanut butter in the bow hatch of his boat and I can unlock it and
build us two sandwiches.. It’s a real
fine paddling day actually. I’m
relaxing little by little. Were 100 –
200 yards offshore water temp. 70 air temp. 75. We have flushed 3 or 4 rafts of migratory Sea Scaup which dive near the surf line I
guess for food. Naturally lots of Gulls
and Terns. Some Grebes, Boobies,
Mexican Ducks, Tons of Hajolote (water turkey) Del Mar. Some turtles and Whales. Occasionally we have to dodge the wicked,
dreaded floating Blue time Bomb called the Portuguese Man of War. If the time comes for you to get one of their
Dangling tensticles wrapped around your arm or chest you a dead man. It would be bad, like building fence in a
patch of poison ivy with fire ants on the prowl. Bad, Bad news this creature of the deep. I know and remember. Staying in these kayaks also is pretty
rough, after 2 hours I’m usually willing to find a beach in the lagunas and
rest up maybe for a day or two,
we’ve already been traveling 4
or more hours. I’m ready to go on in
any time. Which means crossing the
surf.. I over the years have piloted my
boats through these treacherous moments.
You really can only surf thru if your good and lucky, or else you wipe
out, that’s about it. I like the
surfing method but when ya catch a roller with these over packed kayaks you’re committed to the wave cause the boats
to heavy to back off. I rode 2 fine
ones smoking 100 yards at 10-15 knots.
Come to a dry landing get out and look for Pinto. He crashed, surfing takes plenty of
practice. As an indication of the gulf stream I watch as my fine friend
gets dragged down the shore of into the sunset to the west. H looks alive out there but the kayak is
swamped and he appears to be hanging on not really bothered by it all. I don’t really think it would be smart to
row back out and try and rescue him, I’m sure after long I’d crash as well. So I just watch as he drifts on by. Get out fast you idiot, I holler into the
roar of falling water. He has most of
the food not to mention a $3,000.00 TIDE GUIDE boat. After awhile I see him start bobbing to the surface and
eventually come stumblin on out. We are
at a pretty nice beach its still fairly warm out an we can hang around in swim
pants. The boats have to be unloaded
and gear hauled up to the dunes where we camp.
I tried to net some bait, waters
is pretty stirred up and brown, fast current as well. No bait/no fishing this evening.
We set up out chairs in the sunshine and fix a drink, couple of cigars
are still dry after Beene's wipe out.
Pinto’s neighbor James gave us 3 links of dried venison sausage and a
sack full of venison jerky. We get a
stove going with noodles and excellent south Texas Sausage. Mighty fine out here. No problems. We have couple more drinks and watch in the sunset as over in the dunes Whitetail (the four
legged variety) start comin out, easy pop with the Rusty Ol 30.30. We have to wear winter cloths after the sun goes down and build a
fire. Plenty of driftwood around. Rum we been drinking has cured my aches and
pains from the day. Beene breaks out
the aspirin just to make sure. I feel
better now. We get out our Bucket of
blubber, lots of pork in that venison sausage.
We need tons of calories out here we have got 3 more days to go and we
heard that a norther is predicted tonight or tomorrow.
FRI. MORN.
Coffee, aspirin, hot cereal. Sometimes I can tell when the weathers about to change. We get packed and launch thru small
surf. We travel about 2 ½ hours see a
shipwreck again, Beene rows over and I
build sandwiches he hands me some of the dried venison. We raft up its a little wavy but warm and
sunny. We take it all in. Just mighty fine. Were about 200 yards offshore.
Pretty soon Beene says, I’ve been watching those clouds, we might want
to bet our jackets on. We did and here
it comes 30-55 knot norther the seas become rough and gripping your paddle
takes effort. Now quickly and astutely
we must pay attention to our boating skills.
This heavy wind is not blowing
onshore anymore its blowing towards Cuber.
Pinto and I wished for a following wind for this expedition. The wind now was aft of beam and moving us
along with the gulf stream our boats probably doing a good 5-6 knot. I occasionally would surf a 3-4 footer 30-40 yards without much trouble.
Being offshore like this is heavy duty, I’m ready to quit and go on
in. Pinto says, “Where doin alright,
the wind could be blowing in your face”.
I keep rowing along and we stay close together for about 2 more
hours. Then I find out I shouldn’t have been so lazy fixing Pintos kayak for
this little trip, his aft hatch needed new gaskets which I neglected to install
and these following seas the last 2 hours had flooded the back 1’2 of his
kayak. He never said anything which is
kind of him. None the less he and his
leaky boat was swamped and actually sinking.
Besides the heavy water inside makes the boat tipsy. After awhile more, Beene knows this kayak is going down unless we go in so he points
with his oar and we head for shore. The
surf has built up to 3-4 feet. Pretty
big in my book, I am lucky and fly in
on 3 different waves real fast. I get
up on my feet and look out to sea, Beenes crashed. It’s not real cold out actually it’s warm, but it looks nasty
out, grey, little mist and 30-35 knots wind.
I hate crashing like Beene out there.
Getting in the ocean is really pretty nuts. A man should be in a boat
or on a surfboard or better yet stay on the beach. Beene finally manages to flounder on in. He’s alright, we laugh around his sunken
boat, bet everything bailed out and our camp set up. It’s a nice beach area; sand dunes and we must be on the Federal
Refuge now, because the meadows are gorgeously green, like a golf course. They must have burned the old growth off
last year. Plenty of hog and deer in
theses parts, plus Goose, Whopping Crane, Duck, ETC. We mix a few drinks start cooking and adding layers of our winter
cloths. Pinto guzzles the rum and
builds hisself a Bon fire. He can’t
take weather below 75. Plus he’s been
under water the last part of the afternoon.
He actually started shivering and chattering so hard his teeth might of
fell out. I said, eat something you
moron. We make up a bucket of James
sausage and some pork and beans. Pretty
nice really, after dark Beenes Bonfire roaring and strong winds but fairly dry.
SAT. MORN.
From the looks of it surf zone 300 yards offshore. Ya got any aspirin Beene, Yep help
yourself. Sip coffee, smoke, eat. I decided to go for a nature hike even
though Chris Peace told me not to. But I didn’t go far, just up to the dunes. I can see for miles. Noticed a few deer out in the meadows and
seven white Snow Geese. It’s blowing
hard, I have on about 2 inches of that modern outdoor clothing. It’s warm out but looks cold, grey and
misty, 50 degree’s out with a wind chill making it 40 degree. I can see Beene
over at camp he’s got him another bonfire burning. I can see the Win Lodge run by the Nature Conservancy way down
the Savannah. I’m starting to get a
little nervous, could be Peace is lurking around with binoculars ready to
arrest me for trespassing.
Back at camp we lounge around for a little while taking
it all in. The seas have picked up way
beyond reason. Just to get offshore we
will have to punch through or over breaking surf of 6 feet for 300 yards. Going out in these loaded boats usually is
pretty doable just keep your speed up and ducks if a wave slams you. It’s best I think to just sit back and loaf
on the beach. While doing so we
reminisce of the good old days of uncomplicated carefree days of camping. Back in the 60’s and 70’s outdoorsmen the
likes of us could go out into nature with a box of canned corn, beans, span and
a few cans of beer relax all you want and leave everything behind tossed of in
the brush. Ronny and Chris would love to catch me in those old days. This Turd coast is so littered it doesn’t even
phase me anymore. So our tin cans will disintegrate in 3 months and all our
plastic well dry up and crack apart.
Cigar wrappers get lost in the wind and chewed apart blowing down the
beach. Rum bottles last awhile but
these so many whiskey bottles an wine bottle out here fell of the oil rigs, or
wash down from the rivers our addition didn’t look any more different then all
the rest. All you Echo hypocrites whom
might consider me a slob can up and go to heaven. Beene thinks we ought to salvage lumber off this beach, there is
excellent wood, boards and beams all over, some mahogany no doubt from Honduras
or Costa Rica rain forest preserves (I've been there). Lots of coconuts and long lengths of 3-inch
towropes, plastic bottles add infintum.
With the wind howling like it is and blowing sand we joke that we are
Polar Kayak explores roughing it up here in the arctic dunes. Nothing in sight either way but miles of
wilderness beachfront. Behind us a
National Treasure, a Wildlife Refuge.
Out front Cuber somewhere out there in the fog. We kinda hope some contraband would wash
ashore, Cuban Cigars, Coke Cola, make us popular and rich back on the
mainland. To bad we have to move on
today it be all right to stay out here for awhile. Looks like theirs plenty of easy hog and whitewall to be
had. (just joking). We must cover 20 miles today. Beene says we ought to of brought along his
jackass he keeps in his back Pasture on his farm (makes so much noise Pintos
wife had a terrible operation done to quite him down some) we could get Jacob
to pull a cart along case we get chicken.
Sounds like a good idea for next time.
I’m not real wild about getting thru the surf and blowing down the coast
out of control for another day. Yeah
that is it hire a cocktail waitress to drive Jacob for us and bring along a
bunch of her friends. We don’t have
that fan club today. It’s really not
that bad today but it’s not like rowing around in the Lagoons Birdwatching. We are going back out upon the Ocean. This time we spread duck tape to seal Pintos
Caught. We have been wondering all
morning. I wonder if we will see
anymore shipwrecks today. We should see
fishermen at the land cut called Cedar Bayou.
It separated Matagorda form San
Jose. We’ll be something like half way to Port”A”. Just gettin off the beach and afloat is no easy trick. Timing is everything, you must also have a
rudder in your boat in order to maneuver it .
We exit, waves are wide and easy, although offshore a good 6-foot swell
with it’s wave trough definitely drop your amigo out of sight while paddling. It’s up and down all day long. Waves in the morning are easily surfed, I
started catching 50-60 yard rides right away Beene is playing it safe. Theres a quick tailwind now and it appears
the past 30 hours of N.E> wind has increased the gulf stream, we are
definitely steaming west. It’s deep out
here and kinda of quiet. Just waves,
some enormous, 10-12 foot swells now. I’d catch one when I get brave every once in a while. They just take my breath away,
when I go down for the drop, this TIDE GUIDE kayak planes out at 10 knots and I know on a couple of waves I
made I been doin 20.. You could heard
me screaming my head off for miles, HELP ME JESSUS. I finally quit surfing in the afternoon, they got 15=20 feet tall and breaking. Pinto and
I just rowed humbly along. Only
a Pendehoe would be goin for a surf this far
offshore. We are still 20-30
miles from Port “A”. Man it is really weird rowing out here, I
really can’t say it is the greatest thing in the world to do. Actually this is mostly a challenge,
rowboats and men.. We are doing our best not showing off, keeping our boats in check, Shipwrecks all over 2 more big trawlers. I’m ready to go in and call for help. Beene say’s, “WERE HAULIN ASS IN THE
RIGHT DIRECTION DIMWIT, HANG ON”. This is pathetic out here, these swells are ridiculous. It’s foggy, a little rainy, blowing fast. Couple
of Whales came blastin past us all of a sudden from the stern. Scarred the manure out of Beene, he said,
they looked like sharks. We were just
ripping. All you could do was paddle
every once in a while and then steer with your feet. We covered 20 miles in 4-5 hours. Towards the end Beene spotted what we thought was a ship going
out of Port “A”. Turned out it was one
of the 20 story Hotels out in the fog.
We could see it 10 mile away. I
wanted to use the next 90 minuets of daylight to make it to the jetty where we
could go in without crossing the surf.
Beene has another idea and said, “We goin in”. Maybe I could have argued to keep goin but followed Pinto into
the jaws of hell. If he could have
heard me yelling behind him PATO PENDEJO (Mexican language not usable in this
text) Some swells were 8 feet. I just told myself ------------ it. I ripped two or more waves ended up inside
in about 60-120 seconds every second counting.
Enough hair out there to make me puke.
Pinto crashed I know. I don’t
see sight of him any where, crazy.
Pinto can swim the length of any
Olympic swimming pool underwater, He’s proved it lots of times, plus he and I
rode surfboards last year during Hurricane, Lilly 15-18 foot no lie. I know for a fact he is related to reptiles
(lizards and Amphibian (gators), probably comes from his old man Grand Pa
Beene, my friend. No matter his rear
end is being drug through it all over again.
I couldn’t see him for what seemed like weeks. Eventually he starts emerging way down the break, thank God. It hardly phased him. Me, I’m so shook up I’m about useless. We get the boats up away from the waves and
walk back to the dunes. A long way at
this location about 100 yards where we build a big bonfire. We change into dry cloths make a beg jug of
hot toddies, build camp, put on a /Bucket of Blubber Couple more dry cigars Beenes been taken care of. Man, I’m glad to be alive, I say.
Beene looks at me sort of like “Took you a while”. Finished off the rum. Good thing I brought a spare bottle of our
Moonshine. 160 proof Weave been
distilling for years in a tractor shed
in the middle of 1000 acres of a corn field. We can drink it or burn it in our alchohol cook stove clean
paintbrushes clean car parts, we added it to Cole Beenes go cart wen he was
little.. Windy, but fairly dry
night, plenty of feed, sausage,
noodles, quisedillas, pudding, coffee, aspirin. There sure was a lot of shipwreck around here. Were around 5 miles from the jetties but
this evening I don’t even want to think of the huge relentless waves. No, this ocean touring is plain lousy. I’ll go back in the Lagunas any day. That dam gulf is likely to cause me
nightmares tonite. Tomorrow morning
will be 400 yards to the outside, it’s
stupid, it’s not even any good surfin even on one of my favorite longboards let alone in a row boat.
It’s better to just enjoy what Kayak touring is really all about to
me. That is camping along this kool
wilderness Texas Coast. We ought to
just stay here a couple days and send out for help. See if a jeep could come and save us from our fate. Probably if Perry Bass caught us out here on
his Island he’d bring the Sheriff along and throw us in jail.... We both
thought that might be O.K. beats goin
through the surf first thing in the
morning after coffee!!.
SUN. MORN.
Pinto sure has got the
best coffee pot. His wife bought it for him this Christmas
the same day as his belllybutton birthday (strange but true). It’s stainless
steel with wire plunger. Excellent
coffee and you really don’t have to take much care of it ( we used it as a
bailing bucket). About the only thing
I’ve ever seen Beene take care of is his family and his old guitar. Most everything else he’s got is rusting
behind his barn. He’s taken pretty good
care of the TIDE GUIDE I loaned him for this little trip. I don’t know.... if I was a drinkin man it would be a good day to
get drunk instead of going out into a
dam whirlpool washin machine were a fool human is just a meaningless worm
bouncing in the waves. Well what do you
think we ought to do Pinto. “ONWARD
THROUGH THE FOG” he says. I think we
ought to call the God blessed Coast Guard.
But they ain’t worth it anymore. The lazy Boneheads legally have to come
rescue the distressed boater, problem
for the distressed is the no goods won’t rescue your boat, just you. I really think next time we’ll harness up
Jacob. Have some racks on his cart. Wouldn’t bother me in the least to cancel
this show and just walk out with a
Jackass and cocktail waitresses.
Turns out this is about the way we ended up Jackass is us, cocktail
waitresses no where in sight. When we
got our courage up, had another handful
of asprin, our boats had drifted over with blowing snow (sand)
overnight we had to sift them out.
Pinto collected some real nice Sea Shells and Sand Dollars for one of
his daughters. I didn’t have a shred of
helpful hints or advice to share with Beene.
I didn’t have a clue how to get out thru the surf alive. But Beene shoved off and away me
following. The waves where 8-10 feet
stacked up and pitching a overfalls of 3 foot depth, just plowing you out of
your boat if a big one connected. I bogied
out, we had ditched all our fresh water and other stuff. No way to see much of each other. But I did
catch a glimpse as nearly Pintos entire 17 for TIDE GUIDE pirouetted out of a
wave and did a backwards ender over the falls.
Bad Beene, Bad, Mercy, Mercy, Boy.
Now I gotta turn around in this whirlpool which I did and just surf out
of control back near shore. I catch
another glimpse of Beene, he has somehow climbed back into the kayak and is
pointed and going out. I turn around
out of breath and shakin like I was going to my own wedding. There is only one choice to get out and that
is boogie out and hope for the best. I
didn’t stop till I was well outside must have to 3-4 minutes and being
submerged and nearly wiped out a couple of times. (going back over the falls is just a very indescribable
sensation) But out here I’m so far from
shore it’s a joke. Beene is nowhere in
sight. While I waited he got flipped
twice more and then the light finally flicked on CEASE AND DESIST. Time to walk and lead your horse
cowboy. Man this is nuts cause I’m
still out here all by my lonesome.
Going in is just bonkers. The
waves walls are so steep this if I
choose the wrong wave I’m dead. I don’t
like my head underwater. I rode some
just killer rides without wipe’n out, surfed 400 yards on in and looked for
Pinto. He said, it was hopeless. Since I’m his friend I didn’t blame everything on him. Now we had to walk and let me state, I’m not
really into jogging or walking much, but that firm ground under me and seeing
the depths of hell offshore, I was beginning to enjoy myself. The hotels were getting clearer and bigger
in the fog. Walk we did more or less. We tied the spray covers over the cockpits
then with the bow line lead the boats along while fording thigh deep wavy beach
break.. For 3 miles the gulf stream
even this close to the beach would drift the kayak along quit nicely, although
as heavy loaded there was quite a tug of war and we wore out 3 or 4 times and
had to beach our carcasses for rest and food and the sights. We ate up the sack of dried venison, thanks James. The last mile to the jetties was awful, There was an eddy from
the jettie, and a strong one now going against us. Lots of debri in the
water, a real choppy hard tug up to the jetty rocks.. So many plastic containers and trash can’t describe it. Raining real hard. We portage the 2 kayaks across the jetty rocks into the smooth
jetty water. Oh!!!!, it’s nice to row along now. Ya Yahoo,
we made it after 3 years. We
rode triumphantly into the foggy Yaught harbor. We know Port”A” pretty well not many people around. We can smell food cooking at the yaught
club, some real fine looking yaught moored safely. Now we are safe, we have to find Pinto’s family whom all came
down last night to pick us up. We
walked over to Nueces county park in a downpour to find Denise, Wendy and
Cheyane. Denise comes out of the
restrooms and women’s shower and spots us.
Says, what took you all so long, we’ve all been getting soaked and we
have to go pick up Cole and Jesse.
There over fishing on the jetties.
They really didn’t want us to get into the suburban cause we would get
it messy. Pinto prevails and the
girls set us up a nice place in the
back to recuperate in. We drove off to
get Jesse and Cole who had landed a couple lunker fish. All boys stretch out in the back for the
ride home. Cole, Pinto’s #1 son says,
So how was yer alls little trip!!!