BY: B. Keith Plunkett--Lucy's RevengeAs coastal areas go, Mississippi’s coast is still a little known gem. Some see it as a diamond in the rough with opportunity for improved infrastructure for economic development. Others see an already polished jewel with environmental resources, recreational opportunities, and a rugged beauty and serenity. Much sound opinion believes man-made infrastructure is needed for the Mississippi coasts future economic development. For some of the business-first-and-last believers, the conviction overrides most every other concern.
Let me state clearly that I save my hugs for friends and family, not trees. I love the simple joys of nature, but I’m no Unabomber or neo-luddite. The point I attempt to make is that the only infrastructure needed to attract visitors to the Mississippi coast is already in place. In fact, it’s been in place for millions of years, and we should never lose sight of that.
When I decided to spend the next year of my life paddling some of the thousands of miles of Mississippi’s waterways, it was only natural for my mind to think of the Mississippi Gulf Coast. After all, there is plenty of water there. It may come as a surprise to people from outside our state that there is more to Mississippi’s coast than sandy white beaches and monstrous casinos. The diverse ecosystem of the barrier islands, back bays, rivers and marshes support an incredible array of wildlife and touring opportunity. For paddlers this is a seemingly endless menu.
In many ways, Mississippi’s gulf coast is a microcosm of the same opposing forces and troubling conundrums that exist for beautiful coastal areas everywhere. Due to the beauty of the environment, people want to be there. Good, right? But, more people lead to the need for additional man-made infrastructure that pressures, and sometimes destroys, the very reason for the initial attraction.
In the end, a fully understood compromise of these two opposing forces is as impossible to reach as the eternal dispute between night and day. But, everyone knows that both the sun and moon are required to make the tides move, and the world go round. There is a happy medium. As author and artist Alexandra Penney says, “The ultimate test of a relationship is to disagree but hold hands.”
Old Fort Bayou Blueway
Without attracting people to appreciate such beauty, conservation efforts are seriously diminished. So, it becomes necessary for environmentalists to look at ways to recruit visitors to aid in preservation efforts. Old Fort Bayou in Ocean Springs, Mississippi is just such an example. There, the Land Trust for the Mississippi Coastal Plain (LTMCP) has created the Old Fort Bayou Blueway. This trail for paddlers is a way to give conservation minded people a water level view of how conservation can integrate with outdoor recreation. LTMCP is working on this concept in other areas of coastal Mississippi, and I’ll highlight those efforts in the future.
Recently, thirty paddlers joined me on Old Fort Bayou. I happily led this excursion of first time paddlers and long time paddlers alike; from young to old. We witnessed the benefit of this beautiful resource from a personal and social perspective from our boats. The benefit of the personal experience came from the exercise, physically and mentally. Nothing pushes someone’s body to the limit quite like July heat in Mississippi. But at the end, the look of exhaustion on my fellow paddler’s faces was tempered by the great sense of accomplishment.
We all paddled to bring awareness to, and raise money for, Alzheimer’s research and support services. Many of the first-timers smiled at the idea of having completed the 10-mile trek, but to raise money and awareness for a good reason was cause for a smile on every face.
Our journey began at eight-o’clock on Saturday morning, July 10. We launched our boats heading east from mile marker number one. By mile marker two, the nervousness of some of our first time paddlers gave way to one of excitement as we spotted a pod of dolphins heading in the opposite direction towards the Bay of Biloxi. By miles four and five, the expressions were more along the lines of, “What have I gotten myself into?”
There were beautiful examples of coastal marsh flowers with butterflies all over them around markers seven and eight. At this point, the look of dread on some faces began to turn to one of determination. Upon crossing under the Interstate Ten Bridge, I settled into a turn in the bayou and one by one as tired boaters passed I informed them that our destination was right around the next bend. The reaction ranged from big smiles and sighs of relief to celebratory squeals and backslapping “attaboys”.
Paddlers landed boats and prepared to enjoy lunch. The adventure stories ensued, and all the range of emotions were in full display. It was obvious that my friends were hot, tired and hungry. But what was also obvious is that they had been nourished on the water in ways that only nature and its challenges provide.
Davis Bayou
Nothing tests new paddlers quite like open water. On day two of Lucy’s Revenge Kickoff Weekend, ten paddlers took on that challenge. This time, with the exception of me, my wife and youngest son, EVERY paddler was a newbie. Davis Bayou is protected from the Mississippi Sound by a single marsh to the south. But, choppy waters and surf from the west can cause some issues. Some of our boats didn’t quite have the length needed to deal with this very easily. But once across the bayou to the marsh a half-mile away, it became much easier for the paddlers with shorter boats to handle.
In no time at all the gulf breeze and the loosening of muscles had us all relaxed enough to carry on easy conversations. This was billed as a “fun paddle.” It could have just as easily been called the laid back paddle.
We traveled east alongside the grassy marsh until the bayou began closing in to a width of about a quarter mile before we crossed back to the north shore. Here, an uninhabited point loaded with ancient windswept live oaks, and endlessly circling gulls lulled me into forgetting how close civilization really is. Homes are a mere two-tenths of mile to the west. But, without being in view, it may as well be hundreds of miles. Paddling along the north shore, and further to the east the bayou narrows to fifty feet across. Here homes of all shapes and sizes show the challenge of coastal living. Decades of construction and destruction resulted in homes from different eras and styles standing in close proximity, from geo-domes to Spanish style haciendas to beach cottages.
We turned back and paddled the north shore to the mouth of the waterway entering Gulf Islands National Seashore. This is where we spotted the only dolphin pod for the day, but the second of the weekend. I allowed the paddlers to cross to East Beach and continue ahead, while I shot a short video. This trip was one that invited introspection and caused me to think this would be the best time to offer a recap of the weekend’s events.
After shooting a short video, I paddled hard and rode the wakes of a few fishing vessels to catch up with the other paddlers just before landing. We had put in another eight miles toward the cause.
Unlike the Old Fort Bayou trip this one offered the other side of the paddler’s coin: peace and tranquility. Such is paddling, and it sure as heck beats lying on the couch watching television.
Until next time…………………………..
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