A Shark Bite on Frisco Bay
The kayaking bug bit me hard back in the 1990s, and I've been at it more or less steadily ever since. In many ways, kayaks are the perfect complement to sailboats. You don't need wind; they can take you into the shallows beyond the range of any keelboat; and paddling is an excellent cardiovascular and upper-body workout, one that keeps you strong, fit, and in good shape for hoisting sails, grinding winches, and addressing the multitude of physical tasks that are part and parcel of going to sea under sail.
Over the years, I've acquired a couple of rotomolded plastic kayaks-a decked 15-foot Aquaterra Scimitar ocean kayak and an open Cobra Tourer sit-on-top number-that are virtually indestructible. I think of them as the seagoing equivalent of my pickup truck: They're versatile, rugged, and utilitarian, and over they years they've acquired more than a few dings, nicks, and scratches (just like my truck). As Cormac McCarthy so eloquently put it in his modern classic, All the Pretty Horses, they've been "rode hard and put away wet."
