Finally got off the arse and took the kayak out today.  We got two of these several years ago, 11-ft. Wilderness Tarpons, buoyant, safe, easy paddling, lots of fun.  We’ve taken them to the Keys a few times, and over into the marshes and canals of the Intracoastal and Tomoka Basin, but I like ocean paddling best– when I can get out.  Much of the year it’s just too rough to get out through the surf, and even worse outside, but summer brings lots of days like today, light winds, relatively flat and calm ocean, great dome of blue sky overhead.

Chasing Mullet

Paddled through huge schools of finger mullet, not big enough for smoker size, darn it, but wonderful to watch.  You see individuals popping the surface all the while, but then you startle a large, closely packed group, and the water explodes, like a sudden boil, or like it was sprayed by machine gun fire.  Just as quickly calm again.  I tried to get a picture of the explosion, but they tricked me every time.  Surprisingly, I saw no bigger fish or dolphin feeding on the schools, which tend to stay very near the surface.  The bright yellow of the kayak may have spooked any predators.

The Little Hacienda

The Little Hacienda as seen from out on the water.  We’re hunkered down in the palm oasis there, center of the photo. You can just see the shutters of the studio, down most of the way against the morning sun, on the extreme left of the house, not much else.  Jack’s house on the left; Spinnaker Condo on the right.  (Water on the lens.)  Always strange and a little foreign from this perspective, and how close the condo is. We have a privacy fence on that side so we don’t see it much.

Looking South

Daytona and Ormond in the distance, where it starts to get crowded.  A little chop appearing on the water as the wind freshened out of the southwest, diminishing water visibility and mullet sightings.  A lone pelican sat riding on the swell about a quarter-mile east of me here, but no other birds noted.  A word about the swell.  Today it was light, but discernible, until the wind kicked up, a short interval swell, five seconds, and maybe only a foot high, but you still see and feel the rise and roll and thickness of it as it passes under.  Never ceases to fascinate.

Submarine Watch Tower

A surfaced submarine view of the submarine watch tower, still keeping an eye on things.  The last of a series of WWII installations on this coast, this one was across A1A from a long-time RV park that went under about 10 years ago.  The county refurbished the tower and made a little park there. Unfortunately, there’s no access to the tower, but it’s an iconic landmark along this stretch of beach.  Click on it for a better look.  This is where the whale watchers gather on February mornings with their coffee, so I guess this is a whale’s view, too.  Somebody wave!