Battle on the Bayou IV

Before the Gun:  BOB IV

The Shed:  BBQ, Blues and COLD beer!

For those of you who aren't familiar, the Battle on the Bayou is one of the premier paddle watercraft races in the Southeastern United States.  This year's event featured over 230 paddlers in 15 categories, each with the common goal of finishing the 9.5 mile race.  The course is a section of Old Fort Bayou and begins at Gulf Hills Hotel in Ocean Springs, Mississippi, and ends at The Shed-a popular BBQ and blues joint.  The Shed terminus offers great incentive to finish as there is, in addition to the fantastic food, all the free cold beer you want.
The ladies and gentlemen who paddle this race are an eclectic mix of fun-loving outdoors people with a broad range of ages, skill-levels, watercraft, and motives for being here.  I've found that the paddle-crowd is very similar to the fly-fishing crowd: friendly, talkative gear-heads that talk in a language of inside jargon that others outside the domain would be clueless to comprehend, but not snobby elitists, either.  Most paddlers, except the hard-core racers are more than happy to take time with newbies to extol the virtues of the technical and adrenaline-fuel aspects of their sport.  I'm sure the hard-core racers in their long, sleek boats are nice, too, but since I'm always in the rear of the pack, I never see them long enough to meet them.

Pre-race:  Adrenaline and Anticipation

This being said, I just finished my fourth BOB and am looking forward to the fifth.  My wife, Laurie is responsible for getting me into this kayak thing, having bought me a Native Ultimate 12 for a birthday present.  I'd had my eye out for a kayak as a vehicle for fly-fishing, in particular for paddling out to Deer Island and puttering around Bernard Bayou.  My last thought, as I blissfully embraced my shiny new blue boat, was kayak racing.
I heard about Battle on the Bayou I, which was initially a 12-mile race, and decided to give it the old college try.  I don't know why I made this decision; maybe temporary insanity, or the new-kayak-smell hadn't worn off yet.  Either way, after the gun sounded on the pristine March day, I found out the difference in kayak FISHING and kayak RACING...
In kayak FISHING, you paddle, fish, fish some more, and then leisurely paddle to your next spot to fish some more.  In kayak RACING, you don't stop.  At least I don't stop, because my innate competitive nature won't allow me to.  Stopping means that someone is about to pass me, and I don't want to finish last.


Imagine paddling this for 9.5 miles...

I love my Native Ultimate 12.  It is wide and stable, which are great assets for a fly-fishing kayak.  However, the things that make my little blue boat a dream to fish in, make it a nightmare to race in.  I like to use terms like "bathtub", "bulldog", or other catchy nicknames to describe paddling the NU12 for 9.5 miles without stopping.
The NU12 has repeatedly humbled me, but still pulls me magnetically toward my outdoor addiction every time I see it hanging on the wall of my garage.  I have to tell myself that this is a FISHING kayak , not a RACING kayak, and that, it is.  My little Native U12 is sweet, almost as sweet as my wife, Laurie, who bought it for me.  She is my biggest fan on race day, doting over me like a mother hen, arriving at every way point, legal and illegal, along the course, waving and yelling words of encouragement to me as I bring up the rear of the pack.  I'm her biggest fan, too.  She married me for what I was: an insane fly-fishing addict, and has traveled with me in rain, sleet, shine, and snow, wading and traipsing through all manner of rivers and saltwater flats, taking brutal boat rides to remote keys, and has never once complained.  I can't wait until BOBV, where she'll no doubt be doting over me again.
Oh by the way...I'm going to install a center skirt and a rudder on the little blue boat.  Maybe that will improve my time next year.