Chapter 10
The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows from the trees along the Sentinel Cypress River. Riley, showcasing her fishing prowess, skillfully reeled in two hefty 8-pound striped bass. The savory aroma of the evening meal, cooked by the ever-capable Remy, mingled with the crackling campfire and the natural scent of pine, creating a cozy atmosphere that wrapped around the tired Paddle Posse.
As the crew savored the last bites of their dinner, the rhythmic rumble of Indian Bend Shoals echoed in the distance. Everett, a topographer well-versed in the ways of the river, gathered everyone around the fire.
“Tomorrow poses a challenge,” he began, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames, “we’re approaching Indian Bend Shoals, just 2 miles downriver. It’s exposed, fast, and potentially dangerous. We’ll need to navigate the shoals with utmost care.”
Anticipation hung heavy in the evening air as Everett outlined the plan. In the morning, he and Sarah would take the lead, walking the riverbank to assess the shoals’ conditions. The crew, listening intently, could hear the distant rush of water, a constant reminder of the impending trial that awaited them at first light.
With the campfire casting a gentle glow, Remy indulged in the tranquility of a toke, Maggie savored sips of wine, and Sarah and Everett took a shot of courage from the Emergency 1800 flask. The distant murmur of Indian Bend Shoals provided a lullaby, serenading them into a night of anticipation. Under the star-studded sky, Remy took another drag, Maggie immersed herself in several more chapters of Where’s Joe Merchant. While engrossed in her book, she occasionally glanced towards the distant sounds of rushing water, with a mix of curiosity and anticipation painting her features. The rhythmic sounds of the shoals became the backdrop to their peaceful slumber.
Sarah and Everett shared a quiet moment by the fire. Their eyes spoke volumes—a blend of determination, shared vulnerability, and a love for one another. Everett’s hand found Sarah’s, a reassuring squeeze that conveyed more than words ever could. They were partners, lovers, and each other’s anchors in the face of the unknown.
As dawn edged over the horizon, brushing the sky with hues of pink and gold, the crew stirred from their sleeping bags. The promise of a new day brought with it a mix of anticipation and determination. A quick breakfast ensued, punctuated by the comforting aroma of hot coffee that mingled with the crisp October air.
“Okay, everyone, we’ll clean up, attend to nature’s call, and get securing the gear in the canoes,” Everett announced, the first rays of sunlight catching the subtle resolve in his eyes. The crew, accustomed to the routine, moved with a synchronized rhythm, each member contributing to the collective effort.
As the crew gathered for their morning preparations, the atmosphere was a blend of playful banter. Remy couldn’t resist injecting some humor into the routine.
“Time to show these riverbanks who’s boss,” Remy exclaimed, a theatrical flourish accompanying his words.
Maggie, engrossed in her book but not one to miss out on the banter, quipped, “If only Joe Merchant could navigate a canoe, he might have had a better adventure!”
Riley, double-checking her riggings, chimed in, “Joe should’ve invested in SealLine bags; might’ve saved him a lot of trouble!” A shared laugh rippled through the crew as they acknowledged the practicality of Riley’s statement. Even Sarah, usually the serene presence, couldn’t resist a smile. “Maybe we’ll find Joe Merchant downstream, paddling in circles,” she teased, adding a playful twist to the banter.
As they worked together to load and secure their gear, the crew’s banter became a lively soundtrack to their morning routine, a light-hearted counterpoint to the challenges that awaited them downstream. In those moments, the Paddle Posse found joy in each other’s company, their laughter a testament to the bonds forged on the journey to Renegade Bayou.
“Make sure your valuables are tucked well into your waterproof SealLine bags,” Everett informed them. Using his iPhone as the GPS and route recorder, he made sure the waterproof case was on tight.
Remy called out, “OK Posse, let’s get this show on the road, well, in this case, the water.” With smiles exchanged and a shared determination, they embarked in their canoes, allowing a fast, steady current to guide them towards Indian Bend Shoals. The anticipation of the challenge ahead hung in the air, heightened by the distant roar of whitewater, a reminder of the formidable trial awaiting them just two miles downstream.
Those two miles to the shoals vanished in a heartbeat. Everett and Sarah led, motioning urgently towards the shore where a fallen cypress diverted the river’s flow. The roar of whitewater grew, drowning out everything else. The three canoes were securely tied to the downed cypress and away from the fast-moving current. Everett’s plan echoed over the tumult, the crew now poised for action.
Remy’s wide grin couldn’t conceal his eagerness. “Indian Bend Shoals, our kind of party! Ready to ride those rapids, Everett!” he exclaimed, excitement gleaming in his eyes.
Riley gave a nod of acknowledgment. “Alright, Everett, we trust your river wisdom. Just point us in the right direction, and we’ll navigate those shoals like pros,” she declared, adjusting her hat with a determined air.
Sarah, her eyes reflecting a mix of nerves and determination, nodded in agreement. “We’ve faced challenges before, and we’ll face this one together. Indian Bend Shoals, here we come,” she affirmed, a quiet resolve in her voice.
Everett, pleased with the crew’s response, offered a reassuring smile. “Good to know we’re all on the same page. Remember, caution and precision.” Ev left the group to scout the shoals.
With a determined gaze, he watched the river from the bank, analyzing the formidable Indian Bend Shoals. The river, 225 feet wide and usually ten feet deep, revealed its exposed, fast, and treacherous nature at the shoals. Returning to the crew with valuable insights, Everett addressed them with a sense of gravity.
“The left side seems the safest,” he advised, his eyes reflecting the weight of responsibility. “We need to be cautious and precise. The shoals are formidable, but with careful navigation, we’ll make it through.”
The crew, though apprehensive, trusted Everett’s expertise. Each member diligently prepared for the challenge ahead. Belongings were secured, SealLine bags safeguarded valuables, and the canoes lined the staging area, ready to face Indian Bend Shoals.
Despite the crew all being seasoned paddlers, Everett stressed the importance of reading the downstream V in the current, the key to navigating through the rapids. Remy and Maggie, well-versed in river navigation, would lead, followed by Riley, also a seasoned captain on the waterways, and then Everett and Sarah.
As the canoes left the staging area and glided into the mainstream of the river, the crew felt the rush of adrenaline. Remy and Maggie entered the shoals first. “YeaHa,” shouted Remy as he and Maggie were swept away. The transition from calm waters to the tumultuous shoals was immediate!
Riley, who had her share of maneuvering river shoals, waited for Remy and Maggie to be about a third of the way through and then launched herself into the current. She never shied away from forming a thrilling jolt of excitement. The mood shifted as the rhythmic flow of the river transitioned into the turbulent chaos of Indian Bend Shoals.
Riley’s canoe briefly collided with a submerged rock, jolting her and dislodging a waterproof duffle, but her swift recovery showcased her resilience. When her canoe collided with the submerged rock, her heart raced, and for a moment, the world seemed to freeze. The dislodged waterproof duffle floated away, a tangible reminder of the unpredictable nature of the river. Yet, Riley’s swift recovery showcased not just her resilience but a triumphant smile that spoke of conquering a split-second fear.
Everett and Sarah held their breath as the bag floated away. Unperturbed, Riley swiftly recovered, ensuring her safety and the undamaged canoe. The bag, however, remained adrift.
As Everett and Sarah entered the shoals, the adrenaline-fueled ride began. The quarter-mile journey through the fast-paced, frothy waters felt both eternal and fleeting.
Remy, his infectious enthusiasm undiminished, exclaimed, “Well, that was a wake-up call! Rapids for breakfast, anyone?” His laughter echoed over the river, breaking the tension that had built up before the shoals. Being the first to emerge from the shoals, Remy and Maggie spotted Riley’s bag across the river. Without hesitation, they navigated their canoe skillfully, rescuing the crucial gear.
Riley, now through the shoals, paddled towards her recovered belongings, offering a relieved smile. Maggie couldn’t help but join in the celebration. “A thrilling way to start the day, indeed. Beats my usual morning routine,” she quipped, a playful smile gracing her lips.
Sarah, in front, shouted commands back to Ev. “V to the left, to the left,” and Ev guided the canoe through the frothy rush of water. They were both soaked from the river current crashing against the large rocks, but both held their ground and emerged from the exhilarating ride. The crew felt a shared sense of accomplishment. The challenges of Indian Bend Shoals, though intimidating, had been conquered.
Remy’s “Let’s do that again” echoed the sentiment of triumph. The shared glances between them revealed an unspoken connection, a bond forged not just by successful navigation but by facing the unexpected head-on. Everett, watching the crew, felt a surge of pride. The responsibility of leading them through the challenging shoals lifted from his shoulders, replaced by the satisfaction of a united and victorious Paddle Posse.
Sarah’s eyes met Everett’s, and in that silent exchange, gratitude and love flowed between them. They had faced the shoals together, and the mutual understanding that passed between them was a testament to the strength of their partnership.
As they continued down the river, the adrenaline of the shoals descent slowly gave way to a shared sense of achievement. Each stroke of the paddle became a celebration of their triumph, and the river, though unpredictable, had become a witness to the resilience of the Paddle Posse.
Renegade Bayou, with its secrets and challenges, lay ahead, and the Paddle Posse was ready for whatever lay around the next bend. As the exhilaration from conquering Indian Bend Shoals lingered in the air, everyone refocused on the task at hand – navigating the remaining 13 miles and finding a campsite. The sun hung high in the sky, creating dancing diamonds over the winding river. The relentless current, now a familiar companion, effortlessly propelled them forward with each paddle stroke.
Remy couldn’t resist a playful remark, “Alright, mates! Rapids for breakfast, and now we’re on a scenic cruise for lunch. Let’s keep the momentum going!” His cheerful demeanor resonated with the crew, infusing a lighthearted spirit into the journey. He pulled out a spliff. “Anyone care for a victory toke?”
Maggie, like clockwork, seated behind Remy, reached out and enjoyed a long pull.
Riley, steering her canoe with purpose, chimed in, “Adventure indeed. But let’s not forget, we’ve got miles to cover before we rest our weary arms. Captain Compass, any hints on what surprises the river might throw at us next?”
Everett, his eyes scanning the meandering river ahead, replied, “Let’s enjoy the journey for now. We’ve earned it, and tomorrow is resupply day at Whitey’s Fish Camp!”
Riley thought to herself, “Great, I was running out of brew.” And with that thought, she reached into the net in the water holding her Bud Light and popped a top! “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
The crew paddled in unison, alternating paddling with simply drifting with the current. Everett took a snort from his trusty flask and offered Sarah a pull. “Here, Moonflower, we did good today, time for a reward.” Sarah reached back, grabbed the flask, and enjoyed a lengthy “sip.” “Thanks, Ev,” she smiled and winked as she handed back the flask. The scenic beauty of the Sentinel Cypress River continued to unfold around them, with cypress trees standing tall among a mixture of Carolina Ash, TiTi, and Black Tupelo.
As the day wore on, they covered the 13 miles with a mix of steady strokes and moments of leisurely drifting. With the sun descending in the west, Everett called for a break.
“Alright, gang, let’s find a suitable spot to set up camp for the day. We’ve earned a rest,” Everett declared. He looked at his map and had a spot already picked out from earlier planning at The Cove. “About a quarter-mile on river right, we should see our spot,” he replied.
The wooden camp platform, nestled above the swift current of the river, provided a perfect vantage point for the crew to unwind and celebrate their victorious descent through Indian Bend Shoals.
Remy set up his makeshift kitchen on the platform, ready to turn Riley’s potential catch into a delicious feast. “Hey Cap, fancy bringing in some river delicacies for our evening meal?” Remy chuckled, casting an appreciative look at Riley’s fishing rod.
Riley replied, “Consider it done, Chef. Tonight’s dinner will be a banquet fit for river royalty.” She strolled to the edge of the platform, casting her line into the river.
Meanwhile, Everett and Sarah, still buzzing from the excitement of navigating the shoals, assisted in securing the canoes and organizing the campsite. Sarah, taking in the scenery, remarked, “This platform feels like a haven in the midst of the river. What a perfect spot to celebrate our triumph over the shoals.”
Everett, sharing in her sentiment, nodded. “Absolutely Moonflower. The river has a way of offering both challenge and serenity. Let’s make the most of this evening and toast to the journey so far.”
As the fire bowl flickered to life, lanterns adorned the wooden platform, creating a warm ambiance. The crew gathered around, the sounds of the river providing a soothing backdrop to their shared stories and laughter. Riley, successful in her fishing venture, proudly displayed her catch. “Tonight, we feast like true river adventurers!” she declared, showcasing the bounty that would soon sizzle over Remy’s makeshift grill.
Remy, infusing his culinary expertise, added, “And let’s not forget to toast to Captain Compass for leading us safely through those shoals.” The crew raised their improvised cups in a salute to their intrepid leader.
Under the starlit sky, the wooden camp platform became a stage for celebration. The crew, bonded by the challenges faced and victories achieved, reveled in the fellowship that defined their journey on the Sentinel Cypress River. Sweet fumes of Purple Kush filled the air. The murmur of the river, the flickering campfire, and the shared stories created a panorama of memories that would linger long after the night faded.
As the feast commenced, with Riley’s catch taking center stage, they embraced the magic of the river and the resilience that brought them to this spot.
In their tent, Sarah kissed Everett, expressing her gratitude for his unwavering support and expert leadership through the challenging shoals. Everett, pulling Sarah close, reciprocated the sentiment. “You’re welcome. It’s my pleasure to be your partner in crime and a loyal supporting partner. I love you too.”
Tomorrow’s adventure awaited, and the excitement of reaching Whitey’s Fish Camp for resupply added a spark to their dreams. The wooden platform, now a stage for the river’s serenade, marked not only a celebration of the day’s triumphs but also a prelude to the conveniences that awaited them at the renowned fish camp.
~ Chapter 9 : Healing Currents ~ Chapter 11 : Whitey’s Fish Camp ~