On Labor Day, my son and I took our Jocassee down to Mobile Bay to do a little paddling. I bought it in August and we had paddled it on a local lake a couple of times, but we were both eager to experience some sea kayaking. He brought his little dog, Sasha, along, and we launched from the western shore of the bay, south of Dog River. It was an area I was familiar with from college, when I used to sail on the Bay, camp out on the shore, and fly light planes around the area. So when we started paddling out, I was a little surprised to see what was obviously an island out in the bay where one hadn't been years ago. Since we had no itinerary planned other than just to do some paddling, we decided to go take a look.

The passage out to the island took about an hour. There was a pleasant breeze, the sun was shining, and the waves were only a foot or two high, so it was a really nice day for paddling. However I still hadn't coughed up the $150 for a spray skirt for the Jocassee, so we were all soon pretty wet from paddle drip and the occasional burst of spray over the bow. Brandon and I were OK, but Sasha, who had never been at sea before, was obviously not too pleased to find herself in a rocking, lurching kayak, with water constantly splashing on her. I think she was getting seasick. After a while, when I picked her up to reassure her, she let out an enormous burp and didn't look quite so uncomfortable thereafter.

Brandon was having a good time. At one point, he remarked "This is the ONLY way to travel on water!" There were sailboats racing out in the bay, and fishing boats passing by now and then. Mullet were constantly jumping all about, and seagulls and pelicans were fishing everywhere around us. I tried taking some snapshots, but it's amazing how much less the camera sees than does the human eye -- pelicans show up on film as only a tiny smudge in the distance, and sailboats only as little bits of white on the horizon.

As we approached the island, we could see a small sandy beach which we headed for. A family with an outboard motor boat was picknicking on the rocks at one end of the beach. We pulled the Jocassee up on the sand at the other end, and relaxed a while. Sasha was obviously happy to have solid, dry ground underfoot again, and regained her usual bouncy personality.

We spent some time exploring the shoreline, picking through the driftwood and other flotsam, and taking some more pictures.

Brandon decided to teach Sasha to enjoy swimming, but the only swimming she wanted to do was straight back to the shore!

I found an old wooden post on shore and decided to press it into service at home, so I lashed it to the after deck of the kayak.

As the day grew late, some tall cumulonimbus appeared from the west, and we decided to head back to the mainland early enough to avoid getting caught in the dark and possibly in an evening storm. Brandon, whose seagoing experience was limited to paddling canoes down quiet rivers, was a little intimidated by a couple of lightning flashes in the distant clouds, and tried to get us back to the land by hard, fast stroking which mainly served to wear him out quickly. He would stroke, stroke, stroke for a while, and then have to stop and rest. I tried to tell him that everything was fine, that we had plenty of time, and that there was no need to strain himself paddling that way. However, like most 13 year olds, he had to learn by experience! By the time we got back to our launching point, he was exhausted and sore, and wasn't certain that kayaking was so great after all.

As we were unloading our gear and preparing to load the kayak on the pickup, it began to get dark, and the real hazard of the day struck -- mosquitoes! We found ourselves beset by swarms of big, fat, vicious mosquitoes. I let Brandon get in the truck, since he had the most exposed skin. I loaded the kayak and gear into the truck in record time, and we drove over to my parents' house to visit and mooch some dinner.

I was interested to find that my father was as surprised about the island in the bay as I had been. We checked some maps and found no indication of an island there. He decided to find out more. In the next couple of days, he made inquiries around town and found that most Mobilians replied "What island?" when asked about it. A few people knew about it -- it was man-made, about 10 or 15 years old. It had been created from material dredged up in the clearing of the Theodore-Hollingers Island channel that served the industrial park there and had been deepened to serve the brief-lived naval home port that had been constructed on Hollingers Island. It now has trees, shrubs, and grass, and is designated as a bird sanctuary. It is not represented on any state or national highway maps, and is not shown on U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey maps of the Bay area.

Aviation sectional charts, which are updated in detail every six months, show more of the story. Old charts from the 70's and 80's show a small island appearing in the Bay, and changing size and shape on successive charts. An intriguing detail shown on recent sectional charts is a large lagoon in the middle of the eastern half of the island, with an entrance on the northeast side. Here is the island as depicted on a recent sectional (with much overlaying aeronautical information removed for clarity):

Brandon and I only got to explore one small section of one side of the island on Labor Day, and will be looking forward to going back to explore more.

Note: map images on this page are for illustrative purposes only. They should not be relied upon for aerial or marine navigation.