Category: SUP Boarding

Ghosts Beneath the Water

Ghosts Beneath the Water

By |

There are times when the river is calm, when the water reflects the gray clouds and what lies beneath the surface is revealed–almost.

While paddling my SUP board in the early morning, when my mind is still halfway between the dream world and this waking realm, I often wonder, Which realm is revealing itself? Last week almost the entire three miles of gliding and communing in my River Cathedral was spent gazing just beneath the surface where scores of small fish intertwined and moved as one body in their schools of life.

I feel amazed. Full of wonder. Grateful.

Winds of Change

Winds of Change

By |

The wind shifted this morning. The smell of marsh and swamp scented the air as I glided over clouds and glints of sunshine on the mirror-still water. My heart expanded to greet the osprey as she sat on her nest overhead. Fish popped the surface of the water creating ripples that reached out to me as I steered my board through liquid bliss.

It has been a windy week that included two days with such intensity in the blow I stayed off the water. But today, today…calm reigned.

Settling into my new home has given me opportunity to allow the new direction in my life to show itself in the placement of furniture, art and musical instruments. I have listened to an inner prompting to create a music room and in particular, an ocean music room. Besides my piano, guitars, banjo, ukelele, native flutes, drums and other instruments, all of the art work and all books in the room are about the ocean. There are images of dolphins, the Caribbean, the Gulf, orcas, herons and books on all subjects related to the ocean…from healing to science.

Tonight I sat at my piano and allowed music to pour out and as it did, I directed it to the ocean….the one world ocean…and all life contained within it. It felt like taking the time to consciously connect with the ocean and send healing thoughts and music to it was as important as the documentary work I have done since the oil spill. I sense the winds of change moving in my work. I’m not sure what the outcome will be but I trust that as I play my piano or guitars or my African drums I will be guided. Maybe the best each of us can do is consciously connect with our planet, with each other, and simply send love and compassion through our thoughts, music, writing, dance. Maybe healing the planet can begin that simply.

What do you think?

Prehistoric Paddling Pals

Prehistoric Paddling Pals

By |

I don’t know why my newest paddling companions are gars. Lots of them. Every time I take my SUP board on the river I find gars surface near my board, grab a mouthful of air and quickly sink back to the dark depths of the water. I’m left going something like…”That was close,” or “GOOD MORNING!” I’m not scared of them but they often surprise me when I’m focused on my workout.

As the National Geographic photograph shows, these creatures have elongated jaws and LOTS of needle-sharp teeth. Some species can grow to lengths of over 10 feet. (gulp). My board is 12.6 feet long. And while I’m not scared of gars, I really have no desire to meet a 10 foot long fish with sharp teeth at 7am on the river. It just seems….unnecessary. Right?

While these fish can be intimidating, they really are quite amazing. They are largely unchanged over the past 100 million years and are often called living fossils. Their scales are so thick Native Americans fabricated arrowheads from them. They usually live in freshwater environments but can also live in brackish water.

While they have startled me when I’m lost in my paddle groove, I have come to look forward to encounters with them. They look at me or my board as they gulp air and then are gone. One day I met one of the biggest ones I’ve seen. He or she was probably five feet in length. Her scales were massive and she was laying on the surface of the water. The big fish didn’t hear me approach but when she saw me and/or my board, she was gone…POOF! I didn’t have any desire to become close personal friends but it was great seeing such an awesome fish.

Each morning I look for the osprey that are nesting along the shore. Today they were fishing, flying down the center of the river looking for breakfast. I saw the mallards and a kingbird. A brown pelican flew alongside for a while. I also look for gars and I didn’t see any during the first 2 miles this morning and I was disappointed. But luckily for me I saw two on the way back and they thrilled me with very close encounters.

Maybe I feel a little like a fossil trying to race my SUP board with kids in their 20’s. Being in the ‘over 50’ group I feel at a disadvantage physically. I have more limitations than my younger cohorts. However, what I lack in physical prowess I make up for in my mature outlook….”OH PLEASE LET ME FINISH AND PLEASE DON’T LET ME BE LAST!”

I’m getting stronger with my regular SUP workout and I am making new friends each day I spend on the river. To all my gar friends–thanks for saying hello and thanks for keeping your needle-sharp teeth off of my board! I’ll see you in the morning.

What’s Down is Up….or What My Mind Thinks of When SUP Boarding

What’s Down is Up….or What My Mind Thinks of When SUP Boarding

By |

I gaze down into clouds, puffy and white, against a grayish blue sky. As I glide along, a rope stretches from the surface into the depths and I wonder if I climb down where I would find myself when I got to the end.

Suddenly a splash interrupts my reverie and the water’s surface ripples, disrupting the illusion, causing me to come back from Wonderful-Land and concentrate once again on my strokes. Yet inevitably, as the water returns to its mirror-like surface, my mind begins to dream of ways to access the world being reflected from above.

I think of this physical reality, this world of apparent solids and masses, as a mere reflection of what’s on the other side of this this realm. There’s so much more to life than what we see with our physical eyes….

I give my mind freedom to imagine, contemplate, go wherever it wants to go while I’m paddling. If it dreams of watery worlds that lay beyond the surface or enjoys the sensation of flying on watery clouds it’s fine with me. Alice had nothing on my mind’s ability to journey to wild places.

Imagine fish swimming in clouds and turtles sunning themselves upside-down. We create whatever world we wish….think about that. What would you create if given a blank canvas? What’s stopping you?

If you haven’t read my books or viewed my photos I invite you to visit my website and explore…enjoy. Turtle Island Adventures is where you’ll find all sorts of fun.

Parting the Veil–Thoughts from New Year’s Eve

Parting the Veil–Thoughts from New Year’s Eve

By |

As I paddled through thick, gray-white mist across the mouth of Weeks Bay, the silence was broken by a loon that surfaced nearby. The haunting cry bounced off the wall of fog and wrapped around me like a voice from another realm.

I felt peaceful and quiet, encapsulated by a small radius of open water as I glided through the new year’s eve morning. No sun, no warmth, the only comfort was the shroud of containment hugging me, coating my eyelashes with tiny water droplets.

Up the west side of the bay I traveled–the mostly undeveloped side where natural marsh grasses grow in sandy soil right to the water’s edge. No bulkheads disturbing the natural flow of the tides, wildlife or sand migration. Every paddle stroke yielded sounds magnified by the dense fog….droplets of water sliding off the blade, returning with a plop into the bay from which they came; the wake of water curling off the bow of my board; my own breath, warm against the air as I pulled myself and the twelve and a half foot board through the brackish life-blood of the estuary.

Further along, the mist parted so I could see the other shore, less than two miles away. I decided to paddle across, thus making a loop on my last paddle of 2011. I glanced back over my shoulder as I reached the middle of the bay. The fog was closing in behind me rapidly. The scene reminded me of the Mists of Avalon, a favorite book of mine from many years ago.

Parting the veil is a quest worthy of any seeker.

The rolling wall of fog pushed me forward. Access to what was behind me faded as if it never existed. It wouldn’t be wise to go back, to enter a white-out and get lost. The past is done…over….gone.

I hugged the shoreline as the fog intensified and made my way back to Mobile Bay. I didn’t want to spend new year’s eve paddling in circles in the bay so I kept the shore within sight. Years ago I was paddling my kayak in a large, fogged-in lake and lost my way by failing to follow the shoreline (and not having a compass on board). I nearly paddled over a dam (or close enough to make my legs shaky). Reflecting back, I saw where I have managed to learn a lesson or two that has gotten me safely through almost of all of 2011 and the years in-between.

Past skeleton piers and roosting shorebirds I glided. Slowly I maneuvered over pieces of broken piers, buried in the shallow water. I was in no hurry to reach my destination given the lack of visibility and snags floating just below the surface. Plus, I was enjoying the beautiful white cloud I was moving through and was not eager to step out of the other-worldly realm created by the bay, water and fog.

The solitude was a gift bestowed by the fog as it kissed my cheeks and swirled around me as I remembered the secret to parting the veil.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Polar Bear Paddle 2012–Magnolia River was a great time! Even with our small crew we had a blast exploring far up into the river in the warmish temps…and one of our crew decided to take a plunge as well but she lives in Michigan now so a little winter river water did her no harm. Happy 2012!

© Simone Lipscomb 2024