As I pulled into the parking lot at Kiddie beach, I see there are no other kayakers there. Although I'm a half hour early, I begin to hope that no one else will show up so that I can retreat with dignity. The ocean looks hostile with steel-grey water and a cruel 6-foot swell trying to uproot the breakwater. Even the breakwater looks like it wants to go home. But then Mike Bode drives up, climbs out of his vehicle and smiles at me. My hopes of easy escape are dashed. Mike is wearing shorts and sandals and the cold, miserable conditions don't mean anything to him; for all he cares it could be a sunny summer day in August.

I head off to the rest room to change out of my comfortable street clothes into a clammy wetsuit that has been shivering in the back of my truck all night long. As I hop around trying to squeeze into my wetsuit, it occurs to me that I need to invent a wetsuit warmer. A simple device like a cast iron manikin with a propane burner inside. Should come with a built-in fire extinguisher and only weigh about 400 pounds. I could sell them to kayakers, surfers, and scuba divers who all dread the thought of being swallowed by their cold-as-hell wetsuits. As an added benefit, while we are out getting trashed by the ocean, our wetsuit warmers could be roasting turkeys and baking bread for us! I wonder if such a thing has already been patented?

As I return to unload my boat, my hopes fall even farther when Peter O'Sullivan, Paul Jonason, John Petersen and a new guy, also named Paul, show up. (Sorry, I can not remember the new Paul's last name.) It is good to see my friends again, but their enthusiasm makes me long for the good old days when they might have been wary of storm paddling if not discouraged by the discomfort. But now they are all as crazy as I am; we are going paddling, we are going to get wet and cold, we are going to face rough water and nasty winds, and we are going to have a wonderful time doing it!

Nine o'clock sharp: we launch with a 20-something knot wind at our backs. The trip to the breakwater is rather fast. In order to keep from overshooting and ending up at Oil Platform Gina it is necessary to put on the breaks. One of the guys is talking about trying a sea anchor next time we come out in conditions like this. I tried ducking behind the ocean facing side of the breakwater hoping to get away from the wind. But the wind didn't care where I tried to hide; it was also running the full length of the breakwater.

Mike, Paul Jonason and I decided to paddle the length of the breakwater while Peter, John, and the new Paul decided to hangout at the south-east end. As we paddled along, the occasional 6-foot swell was surfable at times. With the wind and the swell at our backs, the trip to the other end of the breakwater seemed like it only took about 4 minutes!

At the end of the breakwater Paul mentioned that we should swing around the shore facing side to see if we could spot our friends who might be practicing somewhere near the big, ugly, scum-sucking, smoke-belching dredge that was crowding us out of our favorite practice area "The Pond". As Mike and I were rounding the north-west end of the breakwater, I heard Mike yell something like "WAVE!" I turned to my right in time to be greeted by giant foaming mouth that was big enough to eat Mike and me in a single bite. As the mouth gulped up the two of us, I managed to keep from being swallowed by using my paddle in a high tongue depressor brace. Unfortunately Mike hadn't mastered the tongue depressor brace and so he got sucked out of his boat while setting up to do a roll. All I can say is that it's a good thing us Old Farts don't taste very good or else Mike would have been a goner.

Mike got spit out by the ocean, and in no time at all Paul and I had him back in his boat with a smile on his face. At least I think it was a smile, with the wind blowing the rain into our eyes it was kind of hard to tell what kind of expressions we had on our faces. At times I was tempted to paddle with my eyes closed, but then I remembered Steve Holtzman telling me that paddling like that was a skill that still needed some debugging.

The three of us made it back to join our friends at the other end of the breakwater. The off-shore wind kept blowing the rain around and the big waves kept trying to sneak up on us. Yet, somewhere along the way I forgot how much I dreaded being cold and wet because I was having a lot of fun. Just staying in one place was enough work to keep me warm. I even discovered I could warm up my hands by putting them into the ocean to get them out of the wind.

Eventually we all ended up at Big Daddy-O's with plenty of warm food in front of us, lots of wild stories to share, and enough laughter to brighten up the rainiest of days.

My thanks to my friends for showing up to make my day. Ican't wait to do it all over again with you guys.

Patrick Martin

I always make a point of getting to the launch site early. This is because I like to take my time getting ready. If the posted launch time is, say, 9 o'clock, I'm liable to get there at 8, or even 7:30. No matter how far away the launch site is from my home.

This habit, I thought, came in particularly handy on Sunday morning because it was a nasty day. I'd have plenty of time to check out the weather and bail if it's too ugly. If I hadn't have been the one who posted the paddle in the first place, I probably wouldn't have showed up. It really was unpleasant. But what could I do. My only hope was that all the folks that threatened to be there woke up that morning, looked out the window, and said to themselves "Am I nuts?!".

Had that been the case, I could have driven into the parking lot at Kiddie Beach, waited until, oh, say, 8:31, remarked to myself that nobody was going to show up, happily driven back home, and smugly posted an email bemoaning the fact that I was the only one who braved the rain and wind on the high seas that morning! Yes!!! True GRIT!

As I was enjoying these musings, I drove into the Kiddie Beach parking lot and scanned for kayaks. Nothing on my right. Very good. Nothing on my left. Excellent. Drive up a little further.

DAMN!!!

There was Patrick Martin! Ready to go. Obviously my plot (not to mention the rest of my morning) was foiled. But, the first thing he said to me was "I was hoping I was the only crazy person to show up! But listen, if we both say we didn't see anybody else here, we can just go home!" Although I was inwardly receptive, this counter-plot didn't have much time to mature. Shortly afterward, Peter O'Sullivan showed up. Then John Peterson, followed by Paul Jonason, and finally, Paul Chiang. The jig was up. There was nothing for us to do but prepare for launch.

It was dark, cold, windy, and raining. The six of us put in and started paddling. Although it was flat just off the beach, the waves picked up the farther along we got between the jetties. We grouped up just at the mouth of the harbor and decided on a plan: paddle up to the breakwater, poke our noses around the corner and see how it was. Off we went!

By the time I reached the east end of the breakwater, I could only see Patrick, Paul J., and John. Peter and Paul C. had disappeared. It really was nasty weather, and the southerly swells and off-shore wind were making for some interesting seas. Fortunately, visibility was pretty good.

Patrick suggested we paddle westward along the outside of the breakwater to the other end and then paddle back, so off we went. After awhile, I looked around and noticed that John was missing. Patrick, Paul J., and I continued on. Upon reaching the western end, we grouped up and Paul suggested we swing around to the protected side of the breakwater and see if we could spot the rest of our group. As we were doing this, a wave broke around the point. Patrick and I were pretty close together. We both braced into it, but I capsized. Bad place, close to rocks and breaking waves!

Now upside down, I set up to roll. But as I was doing it, my skirt popped out and I was swimming! Don't know what happened! In a jiffy, Patrick was next to my boat and Paul J. was coming alongside. Patrick did a quick T-rescue, supported by Paul on the other side, and I was back in. Mind you, this was in rough water not 30 feet off the end of the breakwater in the wind. Great rescue practice, although that wasn't the point of the outing!

We got the heck out of there and paddled back eastward outside the breakwater. We still didn't know what had happened to Peter, Paul C., or John. Paddling against big southern swells and a fairly strong easterly, we finally spotted Peter and John as we approached the eastern tip of the breakwater. Looked like they were sitting out there chatting in the 8 foot swells! As we started to group, spontaneous skulling and rolling broke out among Peter, John, and Paul J. If I'm not mistaken, I think some singing and dancing also broke out, but that just could have been the wind and rain playing tricks on me.

While all this was going on, someone mentioned that Paul C. had been sent back early during the outing. Peter was concerned that it was too rough for Paul and he would be safer in the harbor. Good advice and Paul C. was wise to take it.

As for myself, I was enticed into trying a practice roll. Missed it twice and had to be T-rescued by Peter and Patrick. Very disappointing. But I'm told that the knack comes and goes when first starting out. Evidently, the only one who looked out the window this morning, asked itself "Am I nuts?!", and then went back to bed, was my roll!

The trip back to Kiddie was strenuous but uneventful. Paul C. met us coming in and he and I practiced some rolling exercises and a T-rescue while the rest of the group was landing and loading. Sad to say, Paul C. lost a pair of goggles. But he gained some rolling and rescue experience.

The highlight of the day was once again lunch at Daddio's. Good food, good company! And another fine end to another CKF "Post Card Paddle Day"!

(It was STILL cold, STILL windy, and STILL raining. Hey, are we getting any kind of consideration from Mr. Daddio for all this free advertising?)