Tales of the Sea (sorta)

Dudley posted a story today about his son Frank's harrowing experience on a river camping trip that barely lasted one night because of high winds and rising waters. I recommend that any who wish to venture out in iffy weather go and read the whole thing.

It was this line: "Franks said for every three feet they moved forward, the wind and current would push them back two and one half feet." that reminded me of an outing of my own back in New Jersey that provided its own scary moments.

I went solo canoe fishing at Round Valley Reservoir on what appeared to be a nice enough day but turned out to be anything but. Now, Round Valley is a pump/storage reservoir built on the top of a hill in otherwise pretty flat farm country in western New Jersey just south of I-78. It is nearly circular and about 1 mile in diameter. There's a nice public beach and a fine boat launch facility on the northwest side of the water.

It was there that I launched borrowed 17-foot fiberglass canoe to do a little bass and bluegill fishing along the shoreline. Being a careful boater I donned my life vest and lashed a spare paddle to the thwarts of the canoe...just in case. I made my way slowly along the northern shore of the lake catching a few fish in the weed beds as I drifted. Then I came to the dam and cut across the 100-150 yard expanse of open water trolling in hopes of catching one of the large trout in the deeper waters. No luck. Back in the shallows, I continued to drift along with the aid of a very slight breeze until I was on the side of the lake opposite the boat launch where there's a state run campground.

Suddenly, as it often does at Round Valley*, the wind really picked up and I was being blown into shore. I stowed my gear and, deciding to attempt to get back to my car at the boat launch, started paddling for all I was worth--right into the wind.

Have you ever sat in the stern of a 17-foot canoe when there's no one in the bow? First, the bow rises out of the water and the keel (if your canoe has one) may not even rest in the water. Second, that bow acts as an uncontrollable sail to pick up any wind and thrust the front of the canoe to the left and right. Third, if you're heavy enough, you can not see where the hell you are going.

With the wind blowing in my face, I got down on my knees closer to the center of the canoe so as to cut the amount my body was exposed to the wind and to bring the bow down. And then I paddled and paddled and paddled some more. As hard as I could, I shoved that paddle into the water and pulled for all I was worth. Like Frank and his buddy, every time I lifted the paddle to reach forward the wind drove me back. Still, I attempted to move against the wind, staying close to the shore--just in case--until I got to the dam where I had no choice but to hit the open water. The yards...twenty yards...I was almost half way--fifty yards--across that stretch of open water when the canoe paddle snapped just above the blade leaving me with nothing but the useless handle.

In the time it took me to unlash the spare, the wind had blown me back across the open water and up on the shore. if I had been on the west side of the dam, I could have easily walked the one-half to three-quarters of a mile to the car and carried the damn canoe, but, alas, the wind had put me on the east side of the dam.

What to do? Should I attempt to battle the wind and perhaps break the second paddle? Or was there any other option?

There was another option. I would let the wind blow me to the campground and hope that there was someone there who could help me out. So, I turned the canoe around and made my way back to the point furthest from my car using the spare canoe paddle to keep the wind driven canoe going in the right direction.

Luck finally worked in my favor as, upon pulling up to the campground I found a Samaritan willing to give me a lift back to my car at the launch site. It was a three mile drive to get there. I was able to retrieve my car and then the canoe.

I never again went out on Round Valley Reservoir in a canoe alone. But I always 1) had a spare paddle and 2) if on my own, either a big rock or a 5-gallon bucket of water sitting in the bow of my canoe.

*Round Valley Reservoir is known for its sudden changes in weather and conditions. Being isolated as it is with no hills to its west or north for many miles, the winds can kick up boiling thunderstorms a squalls that have sunk boats and drowned fishermen. In at least one instance divers have spent days searching the depths to retrieve the bodies of two men who's boat was found overturned and blown up on the shore. The Wiki entry has more on Round Valley Reservoir.