Marin kayaking

There are few coastal areas along the west coast as urbanized as San Francisco Bay. But tied as our species is to land, the water of the Bay becomes the best place to experience open space. Sitting at essentially the water’s surface in a kayak, the Bay Area becomes more expansive and intimate at the same time. Water, salt and breeze are immediately present. The water is of course always in motion, so the kayaker cannot drift away in thought for too long. Constant awareness of ones’ surroundings is key.

I found a launch spot at a Marin County park on the Tiburon Peninsula and then proceeded to paddle south. The land along this part of the Bay is rocky and abrupt, leaving little easy room for development, so there is some semblance of naturalness on the peninsula. The elaborate coastal homes, some obscene in their size, are tacked onto hillsides or fill the small upland head of tiny beaches. San Francisco State’s marine science facility, converted from an old Navy installation, is located here too.

Looking across Raccoon Strait to the Golden Gate Bridge. Angel Island is to the
left and the Tiburon Peninsula is to the right.

The water enables views unattainable from land, especially along stretches of private land. With calm waters, I was able to row close to shore and observe the seaweeds on the inundated rocks, the lichens painted above the high tide line, and the trees that hang over the water.

A cruising pelican.

Pelicans passed by, some cruising at high speed just above the water surface. Still sporting a sort of dinosaurian vibe from their ancient ancestors, they are my favorite oceanic birds. I observed a dive or two during my time on the water. A diving bird descends rapidly from the sky and then hits the water in a sort of awkward splash. Some of these dives presumably end with a successful catch of fish. Every 20 minutes or so a harbor seal pokes up from under the water to peer at the visitors to his watery world, curious for a time before he dives back underwater. They probably don’t appreciate the boat traffic that criss-crosses the bay, but the smaller and quieter kayaks may be less intimidating to these animals.

North shore of Angel Island.

The Bay was reasonably calm and the main nuisance for a (non-oceanic) kayak was the motor boats that speed by quickly enough to leave wakes. Leaving the Marin mainland, I crossed Raccoon Strait (about 500 paddle strokes required) to arrive at the northern side of Angel Island. The entirety of the island is a state park. A tall island relative to its size, it has steep coastline like the Tiburon Peninsula to the north.

The island was vegetated with trees, shrubs and grasses. I found a narrow beach on the north shore, apparently inaccessible by foot, which would probably make a perfect secret picnic spot for someone arriving by small boat. I did not land on the island, but a visit ashore seems worth another trip to the island. Apparently one can camp at Angel Island too, probably an interesting camping experience in a less crowded oasis just miles away from millions of urban dwellers in all directions.

Curious harbor seal with the Richmond Bridge in the background.