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Catalina-Crossing, 2005: Labor Day Weekend |
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<<'00 Crossing | <<'04 Crossing | Home | Stories>>  August 3rd, 2005, 7:30a.m.: A late start from Cabrillo Beach  |
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 At one point, I felt a bump-bump-bump at the bottom of my kayak. Thinking it was only a weird dynamic of the choppy sea, I didn't really pay much attention, until something knocked my paddle out of my right hand and made a sudden splashing directly behind me! I turned around to see a froth of white water, but no fins or appendages to indicate what kind of fish or mammal it was. I must have unknowingly swatted whatever it was and sent it retreating into the deep. |
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 Parson's Landing, one year later: The icily bureaucratic girl at the reservations desk said all campsites were absolutely booked, but there was only one other group in Parson's Landing. They were a bunch of sharp kids from Argentina who were generous with their mate, beer and barbeque. (Well, they offered it and I felt ingracious telling them I was a vegetarian.) They spoke Spanish proudly and musically, como los Italianos, and they told me stories of Argentina that made me thirst for a Motorcycle Diaries vacation there (and a better understanding of Spanish.) "Buenos Aires es la Paris de las Americas!" Alejandro proudly told me. Next year... |
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 Freighters are comically sluggish and lumbering when they're far away, but terrifying and lightning fast when they get up close. After learning my lesson on last year's crossing, I keep an eye out for them and stay well-clear! Kayaking across a major shipping lane like this is a little like crawling across a busy freeway. |
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 51 blissfully solitary miles of paddling this weekend. Lots of time to reflect (in part because the wind and choppy seas on the way over had splashed and destroyed my MP3 player) |
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