A view from a kayak boat on the Elkhorn Slough.

I listened carefully to all the do’s and don’ts, donned the various pieces of gear, and stepped into my twelve foot kayak. Fueled by a veggie omelet at the Moss Landing Cafe, I paddled my way into Elkhorn Slough.
Kayaking in Elkhorn Slough might seem like an activity better suited to summer that a cool December morning, but maybe not. I am not a birder, but now and then I enjoy seeking them out. Winter is when the bird population and diversity of species at Elkhorn Slough is greatest. While I will try to identify various species, I know I will be hampered by my bumbling ignorance. I have my binoculars and my field guide, but whether I identify single creature or not, I should certainly have some nice encounters.
In the winter, I also hope to avoid one difficulty of kayaking the slough in summer: the wind. Many years ago when the kids were young, we paddled Elkhorn Slough on a family outing. We paired up, and everything was fine until we turned around and headed home. Summer’s characteristic onshore wind fiercely resisted each paddle stroke. It was a little like walking up the steep side of a sand dune. Each paddle stroke brought little progress, and my young daughter was as helpful as a sack of cement.
Ever seen a grown man cry?
I paddled out of the harbor and turned left toward the Highway One overpass. As usual, scads of sea lions were strewn helter-skelter along the floating dock barking wildly as I passed. As I emerged from under the overpass, the slough opened wide in front of me, not a wind riffle in sight.
I had been advised to stay in the shallows close to shore for the greatest chance to see wildlife. I angled right toward the boundary of the power plant and the surrounding groves eucalyptus trees. Shorebirds were still in the distance when I saw a Belted Kingfisher poised on the top of an eight-foot cutbank at the water’s edge. In a quick muscular spasm, the kingfisher dropped down to the water, briefly thrashed and splashed, then returned to his perch, a tasty hors d’oeurve wiggling in his beak. The process lacked grace, but it was fast and efficient.
I paddled past sea lions and otters preening and lazing in the perfectly calm water. One sea lion broke the silence and startled me by sharply slapping the surface of the slough with its tail. More ducks and shorebirds began to appear. After much field guide and binocular fumbling, I identified Bufflehead and Common Goldeneye ducks swimming by. Great Blue Herons and egrets glided gracefully past. There goes a grebe and a cormorant – can’t tell which kind.
As I turned toward home, the lunch bell rang, and it was answered by a flock of terns. No other kayaks were near. I laid back and drifted along with the ebbing tide. The terns would circle watchfully, begin a dive, abruptly pull up and out of the dive, and continue circling. When the opportunity was right, a bird would dive sharply into the water and emerge coaxing a small fish down its throat.
A slight headwind added some effort to the trip home. I returned to the dock ahead of my time limit ($35 for 4 hours at Kayak Connection), but just as my weak paddling muscles were ready to surrender. It was just right.
The birds and the playful swimming mammals are there, but whether you care for them or not, your cares will drop away when you paddle into Elkhorn Slough’s serene stillness.

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Ron Erskine is a local outdoors columnist and avid hiker. Visit him online at www.RonErskine.com, his blog at www.WeeklyTramp.com or email him at [email protected].

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