One of the coolest features of our island is that it's split down the middle (well sort of. It's not the middle and it's only kinda a third of the island that's split) by a water feature with lots of names. See, identity crisis central. Officially on USGS maps it's called Montgomery Slough. No one knows any Montgomery around here nor what a "slough" is, so it is NEVER called that. It is most often called Davis Canal or just "the Canal," as in "I can't believe I just saw a dolphin in the Canal!" But it isn't a canal. At all. My favorite name for it is Davis Ditch. It is a ditch, no matter how you slice it.
Here it is from space.
The majority of the canal is narrow and at low tide very shallow. The southern leg is mostly too shallow even for a canoe or kayak at low tide, or even anything but high tide in many places. Today, we happened to be out at high tide and made our way around the "U" to explore a part of the canal that we'd never seen before in 20 years living here.
First off, let me say how unbelievably happy I am to have the tides affect my life. I've always been a tide geek. Dad and I would pick up a tide chart first thing upon reaching the shore when I was growing up and visiting south Jersey. Now I find I really don't need one. I see the tides each morning and afternoon or evening at least on my way on and off the island so I generally in a very general way can guess when its going to be high or low tide or if the tide is falling or rising. This makes me very happy.
So, we set off at high tide, slack high tide as well, which was cool as it made for easy paddling both ways.
|A Dilapidated Dock|
|A Rather Nice Dock w/ crab traps|
As we were beginning our trip, John commented that it had been a long time since he was out on the water. It had been a matter of months. To him, that's a long time to not be "on the water." That makes me proud. He takes paradise for granted. Well, not for granted completely because he truly loves it and uses it and wants to be out in it, but he just accepts that this is home. For me, it's still a dream I hope not to wake up from. Each time I come home across that bridge and see the ocean, THE OCEAN, I feel lucky and blessed and like I somehow cheated life. I get to live here. I hear the ocean every morning. I used to wait and wait months for that sound, for that smell. I'd go kinda bonkers during the winter at Penn State. it was just too far away from the sea, I think. But now, I'm here and my son doesn't even know it's not normal.
Life Is Good.