BASK has a kayak race down the Estero Americano every year called the "Cow Paddy Pageant". The race involves paddling down the muddy estero (at low tide for maximum mud effect) to the ocean beach then turning around and racing back. The participants did not get to explore the estero or the beach very much. The Estero Americano is a remote muddy tidal creek that runs along the Sonoma/Marin border. It is supposed to be an incredible place to see wildlife. Bryant Austin raced in the Cow Paddy Pageant, and wanted a chance to slow down and see the estero better. So he scheduled a more leisurely trip on this evening (when the tide would be higher also). I have never paddled down this interesting body of water, so I asked to come along. The plan was to paddle down the estero in the evening, have a pot luck dinner on the beach, then paddle back at night by the full moon.
Six people showed up at the put-in spot and got ready to go by 5:00 PM. When we arrived the sun was burning down and the sky was clear. I didn't bother to put long sleeves on. As we started down the estero, however, the sun disappeared behind a high fog bank / low cloud ceiling. A mild headwind blew up the estero from the ocean and I had to stop to put my windbreaker on to keep warm. The cool ocean breeze blew mist up off the warm shallow water. This mist was thick enough at times to hide the kayaks that were only a hundred meters in front of me. The mist and the water were warmer than the air, and as my hands dipped down on each stroke I felt the warmth in the air increase. Occasionally when my hands dipped into the water I could hardly tell that I had crossed the boundary.
We expected to paddle into a headwind all the way to the ocean. The esteo meandered back and forth and sometimes we found ourselves being assisted by a tail wind. This was only a temporary reprise, and I pointed out that it meant we had to retrace our steps into the wind. But the wind was not really very strong and we actually had an easy trip. The banks on both sides of the water rose up to almost two meters and blocked our view, then slowly fell away to give us a view of the rising coastal hills. Occasionally the banks would be made of sandstone instead of mud and there would be interesting shapes carved into the stone. Somehow the estero found (or created) a level path through these hills. In a few places, the water widened out into "bays" as large as some of the lobes of Drakes Estero.
We saw fish jumping in the water, and lots of birds in the air and along the shore. There were herons, egrets, great blue herons, a black shoulder kite, black crowned night herons, cormorants and lots of little sand-piper type birds I can't identify. As we paddled back at dusk there were violent movements in the water from time to time. One time this happened directly under my prow and caused my boat to jump in the water. We never saw what was making all the fuss. I figured this was caused by manta rays in the water like the ones I saw in Drakes Estero last weekend. Finally I saw one wing tip, like a little shark fin waving out of the water. I decided this was enough evidence to confirm my suspicions.
I have paddled past the mouth of the estero on the ocean side twice before. One time the mouth was blocked off by a large sand dune. On the other trip the mouth was open but I was too inexperienced to surf into the mouth and look around. I didn't have a camera on either of those trips and wanted to paddle out to sea and take a few pictures. This trip the mouth was open and the tide was starting to flood in. The waves looked reasonable for a launch, but there was a high probability of getting wet in the process. With the sky overcast and the wind blowing I really didn't feel like being cold and wet, so I put off launching for a while. In the mean time, everyone else sat down for hor d'oeuvres before dinner. In typical BASK fashion we brought quite a feast with us. We had three different types of bread (bagels, pita, and French) three different dipping sauces (hommos, baba-ghanouj, and spinach dip), three different ethanol-based- beverages (beer, red and white wine). Two entree's (carrot salad and sukiyaki donburi) and two desserts (cookies and cupcakes).
Because the fog was so thick we gave up on the moonlit part of this trip and didn't wait around for the sunset (which we couldn't see either). We started back right after dinner, but the nine kilometer trip took long enough that the sun went down and the sky darkened. Fortunately the moon was somewhere up there above the fog giving it a glow that allowed us to find our way back up the estero. At one point, we took a wrong turn and started up a shallow dead-end channel. The water got shallower and the mud started to grab our paddles and the bottoms of our boats. I got out and tried walking but the mud was deep and sticky. I leaned on my boat for support and found I could slide it across the mud easier than paddling it. I cut across the water and over the bank towards the correct channel. The mud was so slippery that I was able to push the boat all the way out of the water even with most of my weight on it and just my legs out pushing. When the boat would slide no farther the soil was solid enough to walk on again. I was able to walk across to the correct channel and drag my boat behind me. Everyone else polled their boats back down to the wrong turn and had to paddle to catch up with me after my shortcut.
When it got dark I turned on my flashlight and dropped it inside one of my hatches. The light caused my plastic hulled boat to glow an eerie blue in the darkness as we paddled the rest of the way back to our cars.
