And a kayak is a tiny vessel, with only 4 inches of separation from the water. You can’t beat the ocean. You have to make a deal with it. 

Winds almost always blow briskly, usually from the South, across Espiritu Santo. Winds make waves — of a foot or so on a kayak-friendly day. My day of crossing was friendly with maybe a 10 knot headwind. Sitting only 4 inches above the water means wearing the water in clothes and belongings. And that headwind turned the 9 mile trip into probably an 11 mile equivalent paddle on a still day.

Most importantly, I was not making the crossing alone. I had members of the Salty Yak Pak also crossing. Most of us had not yet met, but we knew we had one another’s backs.

On the advice of the Salty Yak Pak veterans, I had 3 gallons of fresh water, one for each day. Due to kayak space limitations, I opted for a cold camp — which meant no stove for heating beverages or meals. M&Ms, Payday bars, freeze-dried meals, no-fridge lunch meals (salmon), jerky (from Bucee’s), peaches, cheese and crackers were my foods. Freeze-dried biscuits & gravy are surprisingly good (think crunchy croutons in a white sauce) even if you do not have boiling water to properly prepare them. A small flask of whiskey rounded the rough edges off my gastro-choices.

The premier prizes for teaming-up with the Salty Yak Pak are the community meals for dinner. Fellow fishermen donate their catches for an evening meal prepared by several fantastic chefs. These intrepid, volunteer chefs work in primitive and harsh conditions made even more primitive and harsh by an overturn in deep water on the crossing where equipment and supplies were lost.

Fish tacos a la Matagorda were on the menu for our first community feast. Delicious and fresh redfish that were caught a few hours before. It was a fitting choice that dinner was served on tortillas as paper plates were lost overboard during the aforementioned capsize event on the bay crossing.

The joy of sharing a meal and conversations kept everyone together past dark. Surrounded by media and electronic devices as we are all day every day (the social scientists call it cocooning), it is wonderful to experience the pleasure of talking with and listening to people you just met. Social media and politics are fueled by rage and the idea that there is an us and a them. None of that was present here. It just felt good. Pity that more people can’t experience that feeling, or that we on the island couldn’t experience it longer.

Bay crossings and fishing all day take a toll,  and I was exhausted. With no way to recharge and the need to last 3 full days, mobile phone batteries are to be conserved — meaning no YouTube for entertainment. This blissfully left me alone with my thoughts, night sounds, and the dazzling night light show nature provides.

Nine miles away from a single instance of civilization, Port O’Conner, and there was still light pollution — but not much of it.

The sea breeze is always strong, rocking my hammock to remind me nature that was fully in charge of my well-being. Just off the Gulf of Mexico, the air was fresh and cool. Mosquitos cannot operate in winds of those speeds, elimating that potential Matagorda Island annoyance.

Going to sleep early pretty much guarantees the opportunity to see spectacular sunrises on the island. This is the most peaceful time with the winds at the lowest speeds of the day, the birds beginning to work for breakfast, and my fellow kayakers beginning to quietly stir.

The South wind made the Northbound return trip seem less than 9 miles. Still early in the day when winds were low, the waves were small and no problem. Tides were unusually low making us stick to channels with adequate water — which annoyed the occasion motorboats that preferred high-speed channel operations.

The night before the paddle trip was spent in a local motel.

Bonus: friends Jeff Gregurek and John Hershey joined for dinner and a beverage the night before the paddle.

Worried about a divided USA? Here’s the fix: Go kayaking 9 miles each way to camp without water and bathrooms for 3 days/2 nights on an island with a group of friends you have not yet met (introduced via a kayak fishing podcast). Fish, camp, and paddle together. Share dinners with community fish catches. Enjoy nature without social media. Rediscover fellowship, how wonderful people are, the beauty of nature, how great our country is, and just how lucky we are.

The latest climate change/sea level rise models show our future with places like Matagorda Island is shorter than our history with it. I am blessed to have experienced it.