"I did it."
As we check out, John, the manager, wishes me a triumphant finish. We had talked about my kayak trip yesterday and he knew that today was my last day. It is quite cold as we leave and I put my down jacket on over my thin shirt and swimsuit. After witnessing the muddy mess I was in yesterday, Joy agreed to drive the forbidden road to the hidden cove instead of going to the muddy beach. This meant kayaking again the one mile I did yesterday, but it was a small price to pay to avoid the mud. As I get in the kayak at the cove, I hand my jacket to her. She helps me get going by pushing my kayak in the water and waves goodbye as I paddle off.
It takes me an hour to get to Red Hill Marina (map point 8). I'm glad that I did not attempt to come this far yesterday. As I approach the Alamo River Delta, I move farther from the shore to avoid shallow water. In the distance, I see Mullet Island, which at one time was connected to the land, but is now separated by a mile of the Sea.
The water is calm and there is just a slight breeze, but as I look ahead, I am startled to see Mullet Island just ahead. I look to the right at the shore, but I see what looks like shrubs incredibly far away. I am puzzled as to how I got so far from the shore. I turn 90 degrees and paddle quickly towards the shore. After 15 minutes, I am still not anywhere near the shore and a slight feeling of panic comes over me. I remember the underwater currents supposedly present in this area. Maybe that's what pulled me to the island and now that same current is making it hard for me to return to the shore. As fast as I was paddling, I should have covered a mile in 15 minutes. I am also a little nervous about the increasing wind. Another 10 minutes of frantic paddling finally brings me close to the shore. As I relax slightly, I become aware of my pressing need to urinate. I can be on the shore in a few minutes, but I don't wait. I want to be far away from the island. Only after I paddle along the shore for another half hour, do I get to the shore, empty the kayak and take a break. A few more hours of paddling brings me to the finish line at Niland County Park (map point 1). We load the kayak onto the car, take one last look at the shimmering Sea and head for Banning.
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"I did it." |
As I step out of the car at a motel in Banning, a cool wind makes me reach for my jacket, but I don't see it. I ask Joy where she has put it. She too looks for it and then announces that she doesn't remember my giving it to her. I will leave it up to the readers to imagine the complete conversation between us. Regardless, I am puzzled. Joy is quite meticulous and doesn't forget things too often.
The jacket has no sentimental value and I don't need it too badly, as we are on our way home, but I am not ready to write it off yet. After a little thinking, I figure out what probably happened. Normally, I just get into the kayak and start paddling, but this morning, I had to start in a shallow cove and Joy assisted me by pushing the kayak out. But to do that, she must have had to put my jacket down. Furthermore, she was in a hurry to drive out from the Wildlife Refuge dirt road posted with "no trespassing" signs.
Dinesh's usual way of getting into the kayak. Note the barnacles on the beach. Ouch! |
It is too far for us to go back and get the jacket and for obvious reasons, I don't want to call the Wildlife Refuge people. So I call John of the Calipatria Inn and explain the situation. I try to tell him about the unmarked dirt road and the little cove below the levee where my jacket might be. He says that he is very busy, but he will send one of his employees to look for it. As I hang up, I am convinced that his employee is not going to find the cove. I decide to fax him a detailed sketch. The clerk at the Banning motel faxes the sketch, but refuses my offer to pay for the phone charges or to accept a tip.
John himself went and found my jacket. He said that he didn't want to drive on the road with the "no trespassing" signs and had walked the two mile round trip to the cove. I thanked him and told him I would have someone pick up my jacket. I just couldn't ask him to spend more time looking for a big box to mail it to me.
Steve Horvitz and his family were coming to Palo Alto for Thanksgiving and we had already agreed to have lunch together. So, all it took was a phone call to him, and eight days after I had lost it, I had my jacket back.
My kayak trip was an adventure, but I couldn't have done it alone. I am especially thankful to Joy for providing vehicle and moral support and Steve Horvitz for providing very valuable information.
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Essay Copyright © 2001 Dinesh Desai
All photographs are by Dinesh or Joy Desai except as credited.