Paul's Journey

Thursday, September 28, 2006

www.journeysbypaul.com

Hey, I've got an actual website.

www.journeysbypaul.com

My new trips will be on that site. I'm going to the south of France on October 2nd.
Thanks for checking on my journeys.

paul ogier

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Hurricane Hunter Sept 12 & 13

Well, finally on Tuesday evening, I got the big, overhead waves from Florence that I’d been traveling for.
From 5 p.m. until sunset on Tuesday, the smallest wave I caught was head high, and there were a couple that were two feet overhead. I surfed again at 6:30 the next morning with the same size waves, and then again at 3 p.m. And do you know where I had to drive to finally get this great surf? Back to Rye Beach in New Hampshire (ten minutes from my house).

I awoke in Ocean City, Maryland, and the wind was still onshore, and the surf was like a washing machine, so I determined that if I left at 8 a.m., I could cruise up the NJ Turnpike in light, pre-noon traffic. (NJ Turnpike - One of my favorite sights in NJ)

That would have me crossing the George Washington Bridge at about noon, and get me back in New Hampshire by 5 p.m. Everything worked according to plan, and I was at home before 4 p.m. Tuesday afternoon, and surfing at 5 p.m.



Here’s a rare picture of Leon and a short board. If Leon starts riding a short board more often, then maybe he won't always catch waves one hundred feet farther out than everyone else with his 10-foot board, and the rest of us can catch more waves. Wishful thinking. Just kidding, Leon.

The following pics are just assorted waves and anonymous surfers at Rye Beach.









The pictures of the waves I took are all waves that were on the inside (close to shore) so they are only about head high. The bigger waves were breaking outside, and my cheap digital camera doesn’t have a powerful zoom.

All in all, it was a fun trip driving down to Cape Hatteras, and I especially liked Atlantic Beach, NC. I can tell you one thing for sure. It was a lot easier driving the Infiniti cross country with it's cruise control and satellite radio than it was driving the VW bug cross country. And with the XM radio set for hours to the E Entertainment channel, I'm now an expert on The Monkees, Jerry Lewis and Roseanne Barr. Just ask me anything.











Another point: This travel blog takes too long to upload pictures and edit, so I'm going to try and get a web page to document my next adventure, whatever that will be. I do have reliable information that another hurricane named Gordon, or George or something may be going up the same path as Florence. I might rest up a bit, then load the car and search for it. Or I may just take a nap in my hammock, and wait until it gets up here.

P.S. Thanks to anonymous for identifying the aircraft in my previous blog as a Bell-Boeing V-22 Osprey--a tilt rotor aircraft. You get a free subscription to Paul's Journey.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Hurricane Hunter Sept 11










Okay, so I woke up Monday morning for the big surf, and guess what? It wasn’t big. In fact, it was not as big as it was on Sunday.
I walked out on the beach, and there were two guys out trying to surf but the wind was strong, and they were drifting down the beach at a good clip. I didn’t see them catch any decent waves, but I did take one picture of one of them paddling out. I decided that if I wanted to catch some of the remaining swells of Florence, I better move up the east coast without delay. I checked out the map, and decided to drive up to Ocean City, Maryland.

I packed, left my motel room, then stopped by the pier to see if anyone was surfing there. There were no surfers, but I did snap a picture of a fisherman with the typical gear on his way to the pier to catch some of them ‘Blues’ that have been running. (fishing talk).


On the drive to Maryland, I took a picture of a strange military aircraft that flies like a plane, but can rotate the engines and propellers so that it can also hover. Can anyone name that plane? I can’t.

When I crossed the ‘brunnel’ at the Chesapeake Bay, I took pictures this time for the anonymous person that requested it.

(By the way, you can click on any of the pictures to see them bigger.) The wind was blowing so hard when I was out in the middle of the Chesapeake, I had to slow down to 60 mph for fear of my surfboard snapping the bungees.
The bay was all whitecaps, this time.






It was a 6 hour drive to Ocean City, and when I got there the seas were so rough that the only rideable waves were the ones I saw in the channel when I crossed over the bridge connecting the mainland to the seaside city.
There was a local surf shop called Malibu’s on the boardwalk, and the owner told me he was going to try and surf early in the morning if the wind switched from onshore (from the ocean) to offshore (from the beach).
When I talked to him, the wind was blowing about 30 mph, and the tourists walking along the boardwalk were having difficulty going into the wind. The owner told me the only people who were surfing were some kids that were going to be driven about 2 miles upwind. The plan was them to drift back to the shop while they surfed. There were some kite boarders out, though.


The boardwalk is quite interesting; another seaside subculture. There were plenty of people walking up and down it despite the wind, and there is an amusement park at the beginning of it. Later, I had to drive several miles to find a wifi location, and I have never seen so many hotels and motels in one place.
I stole the following history off of a website:
It all started when, according to legend, Isaac Coffin built in 1869 the first beach-front cottage to receive paying guests. People came by stage coach and ferry. They came to fish off the shore, to enjoy the natural beauty of the Atlantic Ocean pounding against the long strip of sandy beach, to collect seashells, or just to sit back and watch the rolling surf.

So anyway, I’ll check it out early in the morning to see if the wind has calmed down.

Monday, September 11, 2006

Hurricane Hunter Sept 10

Sunday was a pretty lazy day. I checked out the surf in the morning, and it definitely looked bigger but it was breaking right on the beach because the tide was peaking. I drove over to the local surf shop and found out that high tide was at 3 p.m. so I bided time at the pool until about 2. By then the tide was most of the way out and the waves were breaking on the second sand bar.
The sand bars here are pretty shallow. On Saturday, when the waves were pretty small, the depth between the first and second sandbar went to at least a foot overhead. But when you reached the next sandbar, you were standing in only 3 and ½ feet of water. Now, as I walked down the beach a little to where the waves were peeling off, I could see two other guys were already out.

I paddled out and discovered consistent shoulder high crunchers that let you drop in and ride along for an average of about 6 or 7 seconds before they closed out and deposited you onto that second sand bar I was talking about. So after the first bounce, I decided to kick out before they got me, unless, of course, it looked like I might get covered up (get inside the tube). But I never did get covered up without it being the end of the ride (wipeout).
Oh well, all in all, it was pretty good. The wind was offshore; the water and air was 80 degrees; the ocean was blue; and there was all kinds of wildlife around. Fish were jumping out of the water, and pelicans were air-surfing the swells, and coming within 10 feet of me. I even saw a big fin cruise out the water just outside the break. I paddled over to Matt (one of the other two surfers), and asked him if he could confirm it was a porpoise. He said he didn’t see it, and he started staring to where I had pointed it out to him. Anyway, he and his friend stayed only another 20 minutes, then surfed on in. After being out for an hour and a half, I, too, was tired, so I followed suit. Plus, it’s kind of a funny feeling surfing by yourself in unknown waters when there’s so much sea life around you.
In the evening, the surf was a little blown out with the strong offshore wind so I drove down the island with my board checking out all the piers but I wasn’t impressed enough to go back out. Besides, Monday is when it’s supposed to get big.

THE PIER LIFE
One thing I like about places like this are the piers and their little communities of fisher folk.
It’s great to walk out on the pier at night, and look at all the different people who take their fishing seriously and not so seriously (but more about Deborah and Linda later). Also, you can watch the translucent green swells roll in under the pier, all lit up from the huge pier lights. And you can look way down the beaches on both sides and see house lights and lighthouses.
Saturday night, I was at the end of the pier talking to a surfer/fisherman about the upcoming swell, and a guy nearby caught a 3 foot sand shark. Of course, I didn’t have my camera that night. Also, that night, someone caught a small stingray. On Sunday night, there were some kids surfing in the lights of the pier. We used to do that at Surfside, Texas, once upon a time.
So Sunday night, I took pictures of some of the people there.
Deborah was hard at work (not really), so I asked her why she was out there fishing. I don’t remember her answer, but she did say that she would eat the fish (if she ever caught one). Linda was more creative with her answer. She said something about playing with the fish for a while, then maybe knitting it a wool cap before she let it go. Both the ladies are from Asheville, NC, and they come down for a week and rent a house. I don’t blame them. I think I’ll do the same next time.
Linda caught a fish while I was there but the only thing Deborah caught was a crab, and I almost got a picture of it but the stupid thing let go at the last minute. Please, no comments about Deborah or Linda or the crab.
I told them about Otis and the trailer park, and Linda asked me not to say they live in the trailer park. They don’t. (They’re going to check out my blog and make sure I don’t say anything bad about them.) Deborah is a professional piano player. She plays jazz and easy listening in the Asheville area. I told her that becoming a piano player in a lounge is a goal of mine.

So I guess that’s it for now. I’m going to check out the surf Monday morning, and, if it’s not good, I’m going to head for Ocean Beach, Maryland, where there should be a good swell from that coward, Florence. I’m on her trail.

Hey Oprah, are you listening? Thanks for the comments, mom.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Hurricane Hunter Sept 9


Well, Friday I headed south on the cape. At the Cape Hatteras lighthouse the barrier island turns 90 degrees so that the east facing beach becomes a south facing beach. It rained more off than on as I drove down to Buxton, where the bend in the island is.
The wind was blowing 15-20 knots out of the northeast and the surf was a mess. I got a nice hotel room on the beach, then drove west past the bend to the Frisco pier where the wind would be offshore (thereby giving the surf a better shape).



The wind was indeed offshore at Frisco, and the shape of the waves was better, but the surf was too small for my 8 footer. There were two guys on long boards getting some Waikiki-type rides at the Frisco pier.

The wave forecast chart shows the biggest swells will hit the coast Monday morning.
I was told, however, by some local surfers that Florence would stay too far out to sea to give us an offshore wind, and it would probably be big and messy.


It looks like Hurricane Florence is going to be a difficult hunt.I decided to go after her at home, but she wasn‘t there either.

Since it looked like I’d have to wait two days just for big and messy waves, I checked my map the next morning, and decided to drive to Atlantic Beach, NC, which is just across the causeway from Morehead City.

I drove north, back towards Kitty Hawk, then went west and south for about 4 hours. Along the way, I filled up with gas at $2.49 per gallon.
I did see one station selling it for $2.39. That’s the cheapest I’ve seen it so far.

The beach here in Atlantic Beach is quite nice. I like it better than the cape. The sand is whiter, and the beaches are wider. It reminds me of Destin and Ft. Walton in Florida. I’m staying in a nice motel across the road from the beach, and I walked over and surfed some small waist high waves yesterday. The water temperature is 80 degrees, and the air is 80 degrees; a nice combination.

Afterwards, I drove a few miles west looking for better waves but it all pretty much looked the same. Monday’s the day, but hopefully Sunday will bring something bigger.


I did find a nifty trailer park right on the water. There’s a bunch of them for sale. If any of you are interested, you can get one for as little as $12,000. After that, all you pay is $3,100 a year for the lease. Just think, beach front property for $12,000. You can’t go wrong.

I got all this info from Otis. Otis has been living there ever since he retired 8 years ago. He and his wife have some retirement income, but they supplement it by scouring the beach for jewelry and coins with their magnetometers (or whatever they‘re called). He found a ring while I was talking to him but he quickly put it in his pocket, and didn’t show it to me. Maybe it was worth a fortune, and he thought I was with the IRS. Anyway, he told me he and Maggie (that’s his wife) went to Hatteras last week after Hurricane Ernesto went through, and a friend of theirs found a silver shilling (or something like that) with a date of 1601. Well, who knew living in a trailer park could be so grand? I’ve got the telephone numbers and stats on the ones for sale. Just email me.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Hurricane Hunter Sept 7

So I went to the Wright Brothers’ Memorial.
and it had just the right amount of information and exhibits for me. Just enough to keep me interested, and not enough to bore me. You know how tedious those museums can get; like the Louvre and the New York Metropolitan of Art, and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. So I took in a couple of hours of Orville and Wilbur and their antics at the turn of the century (turn of the last century) up until the first powered flight by man in 1903 at Kill Devil Hills.
Here’s a picture of one of earlier gliders they tested before they figured out how to power it.

These markers show the distances of the first four flights. The first three were around 100 feet. You can see the last marker way in the background. That flight was over 800 feet.


Here’s the replica of the original. It was built in 2003 to celebrate the 100th anniversary of their flight, and it was supposed to fly where the original one flew, but the winds weren’t strong enough that day so it didn‘t fly. I don’t know if someone flew it at a later date but I can’t imagine they would take the trouble to build it, and then not fly it because one day was windy. The information was probably mentioned in the Centennial Building (a building dedicated to just the replica), but I was growing weary of Orville and Wilbur by this time.
Someone built a tall, thin monument, and put it up on the top of Kill Devil Hill (at least I think it’s Kill Devil Hill) to commemorate the first flight. It looks a lot like that monolith in the movie 2001. Or the Washington Monument. Someone needs to come up with a new style of monument, don’t you think?
Enough of that.
There’s a hang gliding school nearby, so I went to check out the instruction. I climbed a huge sand dune (and I mean huge), and when I got to the top, there were about 8 or so students with their helmets on, all waiting in turn to take their first flight at Kitty Hawk. It costs $89 for your first lesson (if anyone’s interested).
The flights are very short (like the Wright Brother’s first three flights), but if you pay $129, you can get towed up to 2,000 feet by an airplane and released. Of course, you’d have an instructor with you. I took some movie clips of the actual short flights but this blog won’t accept them. So, if you’re really interested, I can email one of them to anyone who’s interested.
Beware of sharks.

You don’t have to get out of your car to buy alcohol. You can just drive through.
Hey Kenny, there’s plenty of places for you to eat here!

Okay, the surf’s no good here yet. It‘s small and choppy but it’s supposed to build.
But some people are quite content hiding in wait and stalking their prey. But my direction is south, and I’m leaving in a few minutes in order to pursue my prey.


Hey wait, is that Adam Sandler?