Dansm's Sea Kayaking Trips: Portsmouth Harbor (NH & ME)

Portsmouth Harbor Kittery, ME and Portsmouth, NH


DATE	April 18, 2004	TIME	1300 to 1600	TRIP LENGTH	9 nmiles

WEATHER	Overcast, temp 55-60F. Winds SE around 5 knots. Waves less than 1 foot. Water temp 45F (wetsuit).			TIDES	11:25 H 17:24 L

LAUNCH SITE	Kittery Point Town Wharf; on ME103 behind Frisbee's store From I95 exit 1 in Maine (the first exit after crossing the Piscataqua from NH), follow ME103 for several miles until you see Frisbee's store and the Captain Simeon's Gallery on the right. Turn right down the small road that leads behind the stores and down to the wharf. Limited non-resident parking.		LANDING SITES	-Fort Foster Park, Gerrish Island fortifications overlooking the harbor, with picnic spots -Wood Island old Lifesaving Station

ROUTE	Launch from Kittery Point Wharf, head up Chauncey Creek and return, then paddle down the east shore of the harbor, stopping at Fort Foster and Wood Island, paddling around Horn and White Islands, then cutting straight across to New Castle Island and turning north past Fort Point to Fort McClary and back to the wharf.

A KAYAKER'S JOURNAL	The day broke, in Boston at least, with bright sun and some stuff breezes. Still preparing for the Run of the Charles Canoe Race in a week, I paddled with a buddy on the Mystic River for 80 minutes, then drove like crazy to Kittery, Maine. In Maine, it was cloudy and calm, an almost perfect day for my inaugural sea kayaking trip of the season. I planned to launch around noon and circumnavigate Gerrish Island by first traversing the marsh to Brave Boat Harbor, then braving the outer coast to the Portsmouth Harbor entrance. Because canoeing took longer than expected, I didn't shove off until 13:00. I was scared -- scared of the cold water, scared of the Brave Boat Harbor entrance, scared that I was late getting my boat in the water, scared that I hadn't even seen a wave yet this year. As I approached the culvert that leads from Chauncey Creek to Brave Boat Harbor, one of my fears was realized: the current was already ebbing strongly, and the water level in the marsh was very low -- so low, in fact, that if I were unable to exit Brave Boat Harbor due to, as the Coast Pilot puts it, "waves breaking clear across the entrance," I would be unable to return to Chauncey Creek and my car. Not knowing that the conditions were perfectly benign on the open ocean (the forecasts predicted 2- to 4-foot seas, remnants of the previous day's gale), I retreated to Chauncey Creek and allowed the ebb current to pull me back to the main harbor. My backup plan involved paddling down the east side of the harbor and back up the west, getting in a little flirtation with the open ocean at White Island and Whaleback Light. I had the whole afternoon to spare, so I stopped and wandered the fortifications at Fort Foster, which teemed with small children bearing toy guns and loud voices, then quickly opted for the solitude of Wood Island, the home of the long-closed Portsmouth Harbor Lifesaving Station. The US Lifesaving Service preceded the Coast Guard and was responsible for ocean rescues and the like, and they ran the station on Wood Island for several decades during the first half of the last century. This structure was built in 1908 and, while currently off-limits and in disrepair, groups are currently seeking funds for preservation and renovation into a museum. After peeking inside, I walked around the island's perimeter and enjoyed the 360-degree view of the harbor, including nearby Whaleback Light. A kayaker can only keep his feet on solid ground for so long, so I pointed my boat toward the outer coast and rode the ebb current out around Horn Island. A very gentle (perhaps 2-foot) swell slightly rocked the boat on an otherwise glass-like surface. The swell was large enough to make some noise on the nearby rocks, but the overall calmness surprised me. It was only then that I realized that I probably could have exited Brave Boat Harbor and completed the circumnavigation. As they say, hindsight is always 20/20. Still, the chance to be on the open ocean in such wonderful conditions was a blessing that I cherished. Passing White Island, named for the few feet of perfectly white rock that shows above high tide, I set my sights on Whaleback Light less than half a mile away. I warily watched a rock off to the right, making sure I avoided it and the other 20 submerged boulders waiting to tip me into the sea. This rock was different, though -- it was moving. At first I thought it was the remains of a boat washing up and down with the swells, but I quickly realized it was a seal waving its tail in the air! A second seal lay nearby, and a third sat upon Whaleback Reef. Unfortunately, even though I remained more than 100 yards off the animals, the first two seals lurched off the rocks and into the water, out of sight. I saw two more seals later in the trip, along with a half-dozen common loons preparing to end their winter on the ocean and head inland to nest for the summer. The water was so calm that I was able to sit less than 40 yards off the ocean side of Whaleback Light and enjoy the light breeze, the gentle swell, and the absence of boats on a day so early in the season. I thought about the keepers who had lived here, with no land on which to wander and no comfort of human presence, only the repeated onslaught of storms breaking against the tower, perched precariously on a rock that barely stays above water at high tide, that also served as living space. What must have gone through their minds, knowing that the previous lighthouse structure built on the reef was swept out to sea with the keeper inside? I noticed that the lowest window on the ocean side had been bricked shut and wondered what the wave must have looked like that shattered the glass and forced water inside the tower. Soon, though, it was time to continue the trip, so I made a beeline for New Castle Island and the giant eddy south of Fort Point that would (hopefully) pull me north along the island's shore. Before I knew it, I sat 20 yards from Portsmouth Harbor Light and the fortifications of Fort Constitution. The fort dates from pre-Revolution days (then known as Fort William and Mary), and the current lighthouse, which now shows a constant green light, was built in 1870. The final trip across the main current to Kittery Point was uneventful, and as I landed I thought of the people that had missed this beautiful day -- I saw no other kayaks and fewer than 10 powerboats during the whole trip. They didn't know what they were missing! And I had nothing to be scared of. Daniel Smith April 20, 2004

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