But I stayed, and enjoyed an excellent paddle on quiet water and in good company.

It was a smaller group than last month’s paddle; seven of us gathered near the harbor’s boat launch: Paula Chavez, Chris Wood, Steve Pietrolungo, Terry Van Essen, Joe (sorry didn’t catch a last name), Marlene (ditto) and myself. We feasted on kosher hot dogs (appropriate, since it was Yom Kippur), fried chicken, potato salad, Paula’s excellent homemade cookies and sliced apples with caramel sauce.

While we were eating, we witnessed a rescue helicopter taking off beyond the jetty. Shortly afterward, several police cars pulled up near our picnic table; they used industrial strength cable cutters to retrieve a bicycle and folding kayak trailer chained to a nearby pole. An officer told us that a kayaker was the focus of all the attention, but said he couldn’t give us any details. We found out by checking news reports the next day that the kayaker had been reported missing Friday, and the rescue helicopter had been retrieving his body from the rocks near the jetty. Definitely a strong reminder of the importance of using the buddy system while kayaking.

But we didn’t know about this grim news on Saturday. The officers soon left, we finished eating, and then launched our boats. Marlene and Joe opted out of the paddle, while Steve decided that he was going to try to paddle despite his broken arm and cast. We set off just as the last light faded and the 91 percent full moon shone through the clouds. The wind had died and the waters were now calm.

This being my first time in Ventura Harbor, I learned that there was a direction “toward the boats” or “toward the houses.” We set off first toward the boats, and glided past what looked like a political fundraising party at the yacht club. Alas, no one offered us drinks. We paddled on, past restaurants and storefronts; we tied to glimpse the belly dancer in the Greek restaurant, but were too low at water level. Further on, a woman with her date leaned over the railing above us and eagerly asked if she could jump in and ride shotgun on someone’s kayak. I think she was only half joking. “I love kayaking!” she said, but I wondered if her eagerness to join us had anything to do with how her date was going. We decided that next time we needed to bring a bottle of wine to share, and we could hang out in our kayaks drinking wine and listening to the music from all the restaurants.

We paddled in and among some of the boats, and then headed back across the water toward the houses. It was quiet here, with no boats on the water except ours. We glided quietly across still, glassy water, and Chris pointed out the bioluminescence generated with each of my paddle strokes. I’d never seen this before, and was fascinated. I’d expected it to be colored green or red for some reason, but instead it was a faint blue. We paddled on, critiquing people’s home decorating skills and trying to catch a glimpse of cartoons on someone’s huge plasma TV. The clouds had gone and the moon was bright, and it was extraordinarily peaceful.

After a while we paddled back and hauled our boats back out of the water. Steve did an admirable job of keeping up with all of us, in the only sit-on-top, and with his arm in a cast. “It was the first time I’ve been able to paddle; before there was just too much pain,” he said.

It was a fabulous evening, and I was very glad I stayed. Hope to see all of you on the water next time!

    Beth Powis

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No Host a Toastin'	Chow n'	91% Moon	5 Happy Mooners	Full Mooners