It ended up being another rainy night. With the tarp over the tent and having shelter near the trees, I managed OK for most of the night. But apparently the wind shifted around 6:30 AM so that the trees didn’t provide shelter and the tent started to collapse. So I got mostly dressed, took everything out of the tent, and let the poles down so that it could go flat without getting any more stressed or wet. The rain let up shortly afterwards, so that I could eat some breakfast, pack everything up, and get my paddling clothes on.
I had arranged with Jason Burke at Camp Pagweak to move my car to a campground near Malagash. In consideration of the tides and another wet morning, the plan was to start from Wallace Bridge near high tide. Jason had assured me that there was a place there that I could launch from, but I didn’t feel so sure once I got there. I drove around into Wallace itself trying to figure out what to do, and ended up stopping at the museum to call up to the camp (which I had forgotten to get the phone number for). Jason explained that the launch at Wallace Bridge was actually on someone’s property and that he would make a call to make sure there was no problem.
By the time I got on the water, a light rain had started again. The outgoing current was a definite help, although it never seems as strong as I would like. After going past the actual village of Wallace, I skipped past Lazy Bay (‘cause I was too lazy) and took my first break at Horton’s Beach. At times the waves breaking where the channel cut past the end of the beach looked dramatic due to a bit of a tide rip, but I didn’t have any significant waves to paddle through. I had also been concerned that conditions out the bay might be rough with the strong east wind that was forecast. Although I did hit some heavy rain showers for a while, the wind didn’t turn out to be all that bad. It was surprisingly beautiful to see the large raindrops splashing into the sea all around me. I wish I could have taken a picture.
When I got to the Malagash Mines area (the salt mine has been closed for several years), I was surprised to see a big group of kids playing at the beach. And then I remembered that the Pattersons had mentioned a Bible camp that the Brethren have in the Malagash area. They said that I “couldn’t miss it”, and that I really should drop in to visit. Well, this certainly seemed like it fit the description, and I was ahead of my paddling schedule. So I paddled on in, confirmed that it was Malagash Bible Camp, and started the process of finding who was in charge. It turned out that the full-time director was in town taking care of business. But I was able to visit some with the week’s spiritual director and share about what I’m doing with the PrayerPaddle. When I was about to leave though, the actual camp director came back and we talked for a few minutes.
As I got close to end of the peninsula, I was faced with two concerns: a rumble of thunder to the south and wondering if it would be possible to get through between Saddle Island and the mainland on such a low tide level. As I was trying to decide, I heard a splash near the rocks to my right. I was surprised to see the face of a seal moving his way into the water. We kept playing peek-a-boo for a while as he would watch me and then dive back under. Finally, I had to move on and opted to go around the outer side of Saddle Island. It was a pretty paddle; my only concern was that there might be less shelter in case the thunderstorm came closer. I ended up seeing a couple more seals once I got around the island and started going toward the actual Malagash Point.
The point itself was less scenic. The bigger problem was that the tide was very low and the current was against me now as I worked my way westward. One blessing around this time was confirmation of my shuttle for tomorrow. It felt like I would never reach the campground, and it was only when I reached the Malagash Wharf (about a mile away) that I really could be sure of how far I had left. I was both concerned and disgusted when I got close to the campground. The Subaru was on the side of the road, the only sign of a “campground” was a trailer up on the hill, and there was a long wide foreshore of tidal flats separating me from the road. Obviously I had to get the kayak up to the road to be above high tide. So I dragged and dragged and dragged. By the time I got near the road, someone from a house just up the road had come down to check on me. Mr. Treen helped me with the final carry over rip-rap to the Subaru, and then I loaded the kayak on top. We talked briefly about the Lord, but didn’t get very far. He told me about his days as a fisherman and working in the salt mines before he retired.
There really was a campground across the road. It didn’t exactly have water access or any fancy facilities, but the owner was friendly and helpful for his one customer. The starry skies and relatively light winds reassured me that it would be a restful and dry night. Meanwhile, I took a surprisingly long drive into Tatamagouche to get online for a while. I thought the forecasters were messing up again when I saw mention of light rain overnight. Driving back though, I found myself in a light misty drizzle. The tent was wet, the wind was picking up . . . here we go again.
Partner ministries: Camp Pagweak
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