A Leaf In The Storm
March 23:
Winds buffeted out house Tuesday night and I could tell the waves would be high and the kiteboarders plentiful. I'd gone to my usual hangouts to see if I could catch sight of a bedraggled eagle or hunkering heron, but no, even the Canada Geese were enduring the storm at the ocean's edge. At 2:30 in the afternoon the ambient light looked more like it was nearing suppertime. The skies were full of rain, making it difficult to catch a clear shot anyway, and although I did get some nice shots, the noise in the background made them rather useless.
I could see the tops of kites before I could see the ocean as I drove towards Goose Spit. I parked facing the driftwood fence, put the car in neutral and just sat with my foot on the brake, marveling at the bluster and whitecaps dancing over the water. After securing my camera in its raincoat, buttoning up my hood and zippers, I pushed the car door open, only to have it push back. I had to apply both feet in order to push the door wide enough to struggle out into the elements. The wind found every nook and cranny to gain purchase on my coat and at times I felt like I was going to end up on my ass on the rocks. I hunkered down behind the fence and peered out carefully. It was magnificent!
The mountain range, the dense forest, even the houses were either obliterated by fog or were only partially visible. Looking to the left got me a faceful of rain and wind so I chanced a few shots with my iPhone before moving farther down the fence. My eye had caught something that my brain had dismissed initially but somehow my feet knew and kept me in motion. There, about 1000 yards from me, riding the 4-5' waves, was a lone sailboarder. I was shocked that anyone would dare the open seas in such a fashion. Yes, he or she was enclosed in the somewhat safety and buoyancy of neoprene, but I could see bare hands gripping the sail. I moved as close as I could get over the rocky minefield and managed to stay on my feet between openings in the driftwood fence. As I snapped shots off, the figure rose and then dipped down so that only shoulders and head could be seen. I was grateful those foolhardy years were behind me. ;)
After about 20 minutes, I scrambled back towards my car and then carried on to the other side - the protected side of the spit. Three boarders were out and I could tell by their speed that they were having a ball. There weren't too many making leaps this day, but I did manage to capture some great shots of a fellow who kissed his board off a sailboat that had fallen victim to the January storms. It's sad and broken structure looked forlorn and I wondered about the owners. When it had begun to sink weeks ago, I didn't notice anyone there trying to salvage anything. Oh, there were plenty of people standing around but nothing was done. As February snuck in with almost as many storms, the sailboat's bulk tipped onto its side and was mostly lodged in the sand. I could see by the damage to the wood and fiberglass that this boat was done. I hoped whatever could be saved had been at least at some point.
