Last night was not particularly good, for several reasons. I chose to go on an extended paddle circumnavigating Cedar Key.  This trip proved to be much longer than I had anticipated featuring a muscle shredding paddle against winds of fifteen miles per hours and a contrary ebb tide of 2-3 miles per hour in some places.  It also featured a catastrophic encounter with the shallows laced with a razor sharp oyster bed.  For a moment there I thought I had lost control of my bodily functions as a loud burbling sound issued from below.  Fear not though, it was only the air escaping from the floor of my Kayak!  Now with my butt hanging down the clearance in the shallows was even worse and the drag through the water...well it was enormous. You can follow my three hour trip via my SPOT share page.  I tried to beacon enough to show the perimeter.  Towards the last, though it was pure survival.
The winds of course portended an oncoming cold front.  I had anticipated an stop at the Big Deck for a refreshing Draft Fosters, but by now dark was approaching and I was anxious to test my ability to scale the side of the boat with such wasted muscle strength.

Belle's butt was a happy site and I quickly secured the partially flaccid kayak and clambered up over the bull-works with amazing alacrity.  It was do or die if you please.
Back to the paddle itself.  I started on the north end of Cedar Key, the island, entering a slough that all the work boats use to make port.  I had timed my paddle for high tide, around thee PM.  So far so good.  Not being sure of the exact route, I came upon the obvious answer that the water knew the way out: just follow the current.  And so it was, that I found myself surprisingly adept at figuring it all out.  As rounded the eastern extreme I ran headlong into a 20 knot wind accompanied by 2 foot short chop and Gulf rollers.  It was somewhere along the east shore that I made that fateful encounter with the sharp and shallow oyster bed which lead to a "sinking feeling."  Resolutely, I kept at the paddling making no more than two miles an hour, hoping against hope that the back slough entrance behind the Cedar Key Airport would manifest itself.  Shallow water with sharp oysters became my constant companion, but so far, no more slashes.

At last I found myself tracing my convoluted path through the mangroves and saw grass.  Paddling effort had to be redoubled to fight the fierce currents in the narrows. I hugged the side as best I could to avoid the worst of the current.

Every firm piece of ground in the buyous taken with housing for the wealthy.  I must say in twenty years of coming to Cedar Key, I have really never seen any activities around these homes.  Cars are parked in the driveways but none are enjoying the views.  Waiting to die?

This is what I paddle for: encounters with nature and wildlife where they live.  

So I finally made my way under the bridge and caught site of the water tower.  Two more supreme struggles await me as I fight the full force of the wind with a sunken bottom.  I finally make my way slowly past the town dock and catch site of my home sweet home.

As I bellied over the coaming and slithered into my cabin, I was thankful to take a nip of the old Jack, single barrel.  The winds waxed and waned around 15 to 20 knots all night leaving me shaken, not stirred. Lousy sleeping night for sure, but Belle stayed cozy and safe.  

The sun has finally come out this morning and the charge indicator is showing 10 amps.  You gotta love those solar panels.  

Oh, by-the-way, I talked to my friend Paul Kelly, W4KLY on 40 meters last night.  Seems the Buddistick antenna is doing a fine job.

 Here's a picture of the slash in the bottom of the kayak.  Pretty bad for sure.  Thanks to Karen's reminder, I have a repair kit and it is all fixed.  After drying for twenty-four hours I can re-inflate it and go pick up the package of sail covers that Karen sent.  Hopefully, tomorrow is the day.  I will do laundry and prepare to head down the coast to the Withlacoochee river.