As it happened, I was left all alone today, and there just ain't much you can do on Christmas day with everything closed, and no wood to build a boat. Everyone too busy to even talk about building boats! So I loaded up my current yak and headed for the bayou.

It was kinda cold, but saying 'cold' in Texas will probably only get me laughed at. The air was dead still, and all the foliage looked kinda brown and shut down for the winter. I honked the boat to stay warm, went about 5 miles up to where there is a terrific logjam, and stopped for lunch. Went ashore, sat in the grass, and had a ham sandwich and grape soda while watching a small flock of goldfinches playing in a tree just over my head.

On the way back I took it easy since it had warmed up. I meandered along the shoreline slowly, watching for any unusual avian characters I might see. It was a great day for birding, and as I glided easily through the glassy water listening to them sing and chatter, I mused over why so many yaks are named after them as each appeared in turn: Cormorant. Osprey. Night Heron. It was a little strange that normally shy birds allowed me to approach quite closely today. I had the nicest view of an Osprey I have ever had, from about 25 feet away. Yellow eyes, how about that? A small group of white tail deer come to drink. They do not know I'm here, and when they spot me they turn back into the forest without panic. But one doe stays to observe me paddle away.

It really felt good the way the boat slides along almost without any effort whatever, and lovely to feel it respond instantly with a tiny burst of motion to a paddle dipped gently beside it. Three or four easy strokes and I accelerate to a good clip under the overhanging branches, with Spanish moss brushing my cap. I love the way that feels.

When I returned there were people at the dock feeding ducks. I came in at a lively clip, whipped in to a turning stop just inches off the dock, spun the paddle around behind me and locked it into place along the coaming and upon the dock, and stepped out like I knew what I was doing. I reached back in and grabbed my binoculars, water bottle and paddle in one hand. Then I lifted the boat out of the water with the other, hiked it to my shoulder and carried everything to my truck in a single trip. Gotta make it look good if you want people to get into it.

All this was with the little 10' plastic recreational kayak I bought last summer, the only yak I have ever been in. Gee, I wonder how my Mill Creek 13 is gonna be? Or the Chessy 16LT/Great Auk that's bound to follow? I think I'm hooked, and badly, too.

It has been a splendid Christmas day. Maybe I need to be left alone more often.

Cheers,
Kurt Maurer
on
Armand Bayou