An Early Morning Kayaking the Pamlico Sound
There were two things I wanted to accomplish during my week on Ocracoke Island. The first was to catch a big Red Drum in the surf. The second was to shoot a few pintails and mallards in the salt marshes. In the end, I did neither.
Monday evening on the beach, I caught several small blue fish and even a few flounder that were an inch too short to keep for the pan. The red drum I eagerly pursued were not to be found. I would bait my hook with cut chunks of mullet again later in the week, but on Tuesday morning, I wanted to paddle and search for ducks. If the scouting looked promising, I would purchase a North Carolina hunting license and give it a go.
The day had begun in the eastern sky with a gray haze. Light rain tickled the creek while I pulled off the road and parked the truck in the sand. The roadway sign named the small cut Parker’s Creek. I had missed sunrise on the water by a few minutes. This was vacation after all, so I slept the extra 20 minutes.
With a single fishing rod tipped with a ¾ oz. gold Hopkins spoon, a small tackle bag with a few other trinkets and camera, I pushed off the creek bank. The small tidal creek, not much wider than the length of my kayak, meandered through a tangle of Wax Myrtle, cedar, holly and saw grass. The depth of the clear water turned dark brown reflecting the muddy bottom. The creek quickly lessoned the farther into the maritime forest I paddled. I had only paddled a hundred yards before the banks closed in, ending the creek.
Turning around I left the cover of the tree lined creek and out into the open waters of Pamlico Sound. Here the bottom was white sand and the water gin clear. Short grasses covered the soft edges of water. A slight breeze tickled the water’s surface. In search of ducks, I paddled headword into the breeze.
In the distance, the water and sky became one in a gray haze. I was alone a half mile from shore. No other kayaks, fishing boats, or any other signs of human life could be seen. Elevated duck blinds dotted the water, but none were occupied. The few ducks in the area were safe for the moment. The lesser table fare ducks, i.e. mergansers and other diving ducks, traded from one area to the next. These were not the ducks I searched. I continued my search for mallards and pintails. None were to be found.
After looking in all of the ducky looking areas along the coves, islands and cuts, I came to realize this was not the place or time for the ducks I wished to hunt. Letting the light breeze float me back toward my creek and the truck, I thought over the situation.
If I really wanted to duck hunt, I could. But I would be using decoys of the wrong species. It would still probably work. The water was shallow enough that I could stand or kneel next to the camo’d kayak and hide from the incoming ducks. But this was not the hunt I was after.
I continued to paddle the sound enjoying the quiet and solitude on the water. And while I may have been slightly disappointed with the absence of the ducks, that disappointment was short lived. I realized how fortunate I was to be here at this moment enjoying the natural world surrounding me. This being the week of Thanksgiving, it is the time of reflection. A time we should take stock in all that we have. This not only includes the materialistic items we possess, but more importantly the natural world that surrounds us and the times we are able to simple enjoy the tranquility within that world. I have so much to be thankful. Aimlessly allowing the morning breeze to drift my kayak along the vast quietness of the sound without interruption provided the perfect setting to reflect on all I have and give thanks. Like kayaking Pamlico sound.
