My long-suffering 10' kayak, the Kuhn, had to undergo extensive repairs to the stern hull over the summer. Years of being dragged over gravel boat ramps, and sliding over innumberable who-knows-whats in the dark waters of the Pascagoula River Swamp, had left the craft with a sizable hole that invariably meant several gallons of water had to be drained after each outing.
Partly to test my patch, partly to pursue another hobby that has developed in the past year, and partly to just be out in the Wild again, I took the Kuhn down to Davis Eddy, a small lake just off the east bank of the Pascagoula, above Mississippi Highway 26, which marks the northern line of the Stronghold. My brother Brian and I had been to Davis Eddy a few years ago, in one of our first forays into the Pascagoula River Basin. The forest around the Eddy is rather young, growing in might the farther one goes to the south, nearer the Stronghold; but there are some stately cypress domes there, and the Eddy is small enough to make for a nice, manageable morning paddle, though my earlier visit was marked by the appearance of a small alligator, which always gives me pause. (Brian, much to his surprise and mine, encountered a very large one on the trail near Hutson Lake during a solo hike earlier this month.)
Partly out of habit, I first drove down the swamp road towards Hutson Lake. Driving back up it a few minutes later, I noticed some commotion on the road ahead, which at first I took to be several white-tailed deer frolicking or fighting. Drawing nearer, I discovered a doe defending her fawn from a large coyote. The deer bounded off to my right, and the coyote vanished into tall grass to my left. I suspect the doe and her fawn lived to fight another day.
The roads were empty of other activity, human or otherwise. Numerous small hawks flushed from the surrounding bottomland forest. I arrived at Davis Eddy to find the lake to myself, and would encounter no other humans during my time in the swamp, one of the benefits of being out there in August.
There were many birds out, and though my camera battery immediately registered in the red, I managed to take a few photos. I was very frustrated that I could not manage a decent photo of a beautiful male Prothonotary Warbler, who followed me among the cypress boughs as I began to make my way along the western edge of the Eddy. Small fish were leaping out of the water, one slapping against my upraised oar, startling me. Somewhat later, slipping along the shoreline, I marked a large ripple at the water's edge, and looked down just in time to see a long, narrow shape pass beneath my kayak: the unmistakable outline of an alligator. I felt that it must be the same alligator Brian and I had spied on our visit, now grown somewhat to around a respectable six feet. I decided to call him the Davis Eddy Monster, and his appearance kept me on edge for a while afterward, until I saw his head again some 30-40 yards off, monitoring my activity.
I am glad to say that the patch on my kayak held, at least for the time being.
Partly to test my patch, partly to pursue another hobby that has developed in the past year, and partly to just be out in the Wild again, I took the Kuhn down to Davis Eddy, a small lake just off the east bank of the Pascagoula, above Mississippi Highway 26, which marks the northern line of the Stronghold. My brother Brian and I had been to Davis Eddy a few years ago, in one of our first forays into the Pascagoula River Basin. The forest around the Eddy is rather young, growing in might the farther one goes to the south, nearer the Stronghold; but there are some stately cypress domes there, and the Eddy is small enough to make for a nice, manageable morning paddle, though my earlier visit was marked by the appearance of a small alligator, which always gives me pause. (Brian, much to his surprise and mine, encountered a very large one on the trail near Hutson Lake during a solo hike earlier this month.)
Partly out of habit, I first drove down the swamp road towards Hutson Lake. Driving back up it a few minutes later, I noticed some commotion on the road ahead, which at first I took to be several white-tailed deer frolicking or fighting. Drawing nearer, I discovered a doe defending her fawn from a large coyote. The deer bounded off to my right, and the coyote vanished into tall grass to my left. I suspect the doe and her fawn lived to fight another day.
The roads were empty of other activity, human or otherwise. Numerous small hawks flushed from the surrounding bottomland forest. I arrived at Davis Eddy to find the lake to myself, and would encounter no other humans during my time in the swamp, one of the benefits of being out there in August.
There were many birds out, and though my camera battery immediately registered in the red, I managed to take a few photos. I was very frustrated that I could not manage a decent photo of a beautiful male Prothonotary Warbler, who followed me among the cypress boughs as I began to make my way along the western edge of the Eddy. Small fish were leaping out of the water, one slapping against my upraised oar, startling me. Somewhat later, slipping along the shoreline, I marked a large ripple at the water's edge, and looked down just in time to see a long, narrow shape pass beneath my kayak: the unmistakable outline of an alligator. I felt that it must be the same alligator Brian and I had spied on our visit, now grown somewhat to around a respectable six feet. I decided to call him the Davis Eddy Monster, and his appearance kept me on edge for a while afterward, until I saw his head again some 30-40 yards off, monitoring my activity.
I am glad to say that the patch on my kayak held, at least for the time being.
Now I have as a goal a good photo of one of these beautiful guys.
Rose mallow.
This anhinga was being harassed by a little blue heron.
Little blue heron.
I like the contrasting lines of color on the base.
The Davis Eddy Monster. (Or: "Monster.")
A family of white ibis near the boat launch.
