Where Did All The Water Go?

   It is a well-known fact that a strong north wind can drive the water lower than usual in the Bay.  Sometimes during the winter months, our pier sits "high and dry" with nary a puddle beneath it.  Mud...that stinky, sloppy mud...surrounds everything and anything that was hidden by the dark waters is evident.  Tree limbs, derelict crab pots, even old boat parts are left visible once the tide is extremely low.  I have lived near this Bayou my entire life and have witnessed that old wind drive the water sometimes a good hundred feet from the pier's end.  The water returns with the next high tide if the winds have subsided but that lack of water does indeed put a kink in any fishing plans!  

  Saturday morning, the tide was at its low at around 7:30 in the morning.  We had an incoming cold front so the winds were out of the north and were sustained around 18mph.  Yes, the tide was low...really low!  Mark actually took pictures and made the remark that it was "the lowest I have ever seen!"  I checked and had to agree.  That water was way out there!  It was interesting to see but, since I had no plans of fishing, the phenomenon soon flitted from the brain.  There was no use in pondering low tide....until a few hours later....those few hours made a bigger impact.

  Around noon, Mark made a trip to deliver a pot of beef stew to a sweet old lady.  While he was gone, I glanced out the window and was taken aback.  Where did all the water go?  It was low tide before but this was getting ridiculous!  There was absolutely NO water!  I mean NOOO water at all!  I hurriedly made my way to the end of the pier to check this further.  There literally was no water!  The entire part of the Bay known as Magnolia Bend" (our part!) was nothing but mudflats!  I peered across to the air base...there...there was a wee bit of water in the industrial channel that runs parallel to the opposite shoreline.  That water seemed to be nigh on a mile away!  In fact, if you look closely at the photos that I took, you will see a glistening streak on the far shore.  THAT is the only water in our whole Magnolia Bend area.  The rest of what is seen is mud...purely mud.

  As I sat there pondering the lack of water, I had to giggle because, just last week, Mark made the comment that he would like to extend our pier so we would be in "deeper water".  Yeah, right!  I guess a mile long pier would be fine just so we can fish in that channel so very far away!  I am thinking he would be better off just jumping in that little skiff and puttering over there.   North winds and low tides are always going to be a thing around here but we just have to take it as it comes.  (I have to admit that I much prefer this type tide over the tidal surge that comes with a hurricane.  This one leaves no messy debris piled in the yard!)

Low Tide Disappointment

   After a more or less sleepless night of worry about family members being in the midst of Hurricane Ian, I grabbed a mug of coffee and headed to the pier.  That is where I can soothe the mind of all its anxiety and find peace in the soul again.  The wind was chilly this morning so I did not even stay to watch the sunrise.  Later, however, I headed back to help Son do some repairs on the small skiff.  Once I figured out that I was more in the way than anything, I meandered back to the end of the pier.  The north wind had blown the water far from the marsh and left mudflats for some thirty feet.  That was not surprising but the next thirty or so was.  Maybe surprising is not the word.  Maybe disappointing is more appropriate.  

  With the water only a mere six to eight inches deep, I could see everything that is normally hidden.  While I knew what was there, I had no idea the extent of it.  As far as I could see there was a mass of weird green, growth.  Never before have we had "grass" under the pier.  This is not truly grass but is a pond plant that was sneakily dumped in the Bay by someone.  It took hold and now has spread like wildfire.  It is clogging all the bayous and now has begun its spread outward from the shoreline.  The stuff makes it almost impossible to throw a net or cast a line.  It also winds around boat propellers rendering them quite useless if not untangled.  It is just a mess.  I am torn between calling it Coontail (which is what a biologist told me) and Hydrilla (which is what Google told me).  Either way, it is highly invasive.

  Like I said, it was disappointing to see that this growth has spread so rapidly.  It is also disappointing that, although reported to the proper authorities, nothing has been done.  The usual "run-around" was given and nothing...NOTHING...has or will be done.  The bay and bayous will continue to become more and more clogged until nothing can survive. It is saddening...disappointing...to say the least.  Rant over...I am tired.

  For any who may be interested, my family members all made it through the hurricane with little to no damage.  I am just so thankful they are all safe and sound.  Hurricane Ian...go away now.

Hidden From View

  The north wind has been blowing a good bit with the cool spell that we are having right now.  This wind blows the tide way out from the shoreline and reveals all that which is normally covered by our muddy waters.  Brackish water hides a myriad of things from hurricane debris to trash from unthinking boaters.  When the tide is low and the mudflats are wide, the debris can be seen for miles.  A lot of the stuff is natural things such as logs and parts of piers but the bottles and cans come from trashy people.  That is the junk that causes problems.

  This morning, I took a few moments to check what all would need to be cleaned once we get the pier rebuilt.  Luckily, around our pier there is a minimum of trash.  We do have a lot of tree limbs and large logs that will make fishing difficult.  Those will need to be cleared.

  I find it interesting to see what the water hides.  Near the pier, there is also evidence that the family of otters is feeding well.  Thousands of clams have been dug and the shells discarded after the clam has been eaten.  The mud will eventually reclaim the shells as it does most everything else.  Low tide equals interesting finds.  Time for work.

Mosquito Munchers!

  Early this afternoon, I took a break from painting the arbor that Son just built.  It is a fine arbor that is to replace the termite-ridden one.  Painting anything around here always seems to be my job.  I do not mind but this afternoon, I needed a break from the ladder so the pier called.  While there, I noticed that the tide was really low.  In fact, what we call "The Cut" (a small inlet) was completely empty.  Only a few small puddles remained on the mudflats but those puddles were teaming with minnows.  The bull minnows (Gulf Killifish) had obviously hatched a few days back and were happily enjoying the warm weather until the north wind pushed the tide far out from shore.  Now they were stranded in tiny puddles.  There was no exit to larger bodies of water and this put them in extreme danger.  The little minnows were trapped and were literally "sitting ducks".  Any birds that wanted a quick and easy meal could catch its fill in a matter of minutes.  It is amazing that any survive these low tides.

  Gulf Killifish are resilient little critters.  They usually live in the brackish waters but can easily adapt to fresh or salty water.  As in their case today, they can also adapt to live in hardly no water!  In fact, those that get stranded on the mudflats will simply wiggle down beneath the sloppy mud and wait for the tide to come in again.  The fish can go for hours on end hovering just beneath the mud.  Another strange fact that shows their hardiness is that often after a female lays her eggs, they become stuck to marsh grass.  If the tide goes out (like the past few days), the eggs are suspended with no water.  They can last for up to two weeks and still be viable!  When the tide does fill the marsh again, the eggs are able to hatch and the baby fish show no ill effects from being high and dry.

  It was good to see so many baby bull minnows in the puddles today but I hope that they survive.  These little fish are good for our health.  One of the most important parts of their diet is the mosquito larva.  A single adult killifish can devour hundreds of mosquito larvae in a day.  Not only is this highly important in view of the disease that mosquitoes can carry but, for any of us living around here, it means a few less mosquitoes to aggravate us.  We owe a big thank you to this tiny fish!

Strong Winds and Mudflats!

  Where did all of the water go?  The walk to the pier this morning was not only a tad difficult due to frost coating each plank but was disappointing since there was no water!  The storm system that hit the Bayou for the past few days did a fine job of pushing water in to the Bay and Bayou when the wind was coming from the south but, once that direction changed, it pushed it right back out into the Gulf.  Yesterday's winds were from the west and, then last night, the winds turned from the north.  The winds were blowing a gale and coming from either of those directions pushes the water far from our pier.  The pier sat high and dry.  The large boats moored at my brother's pier were sitting on bottom.  Son and I were smart!  Yesterday while the tide was high (before wind direction changed), we pulled the small skiff well up into the yard and tied it off to a tree.  Now there is no strain on the lines and we have no worries about it breaking free.  Since it is just a small skiff, it will be easy to put back into the water if needed.

  With the tide being far from shore, there was a clear view of what is normally hidden by water.  We try to keep the area around our pier clear of trash, logs or anything that may snag our lines.  It always amazes me how much stuff is washed in without us seeing it until it has settled into the mud.  Within a few months, more PVC piping, bottles, cans, tree limbs and other debris have wound up next to the pier.  Once the boat is returned to the water, a good cleanup is in order.  This is other people's trash but Son and I are the ones to dispose of it properly.  At least today, I got a good idea of how much is there.  If nothing changes, this should be a quick and easy job!

 

There is no water!

  My goodness!   When one thinks of a bayou, usually a bit of water winding through marsh comes to mind.  When one thinks of a bay, usually a large inlet of water comes to mind.  Not today.  Today, there was no water.  Nope.  The Bayou and the Back Bay were almost devoid of the wet stuff.  The water was gone...nowhere to be seen...vamoosed.  Overnight, the water had disappeared almost into thin air.  Where has all of the water gone?

  While there is definitely a lack of water here, it is no mystery.  Overnight, a cold front made its way southward until the north wind visited the Bayou.  It blew and blew.  Limbs crashed to the ground, outdoor furniture toppled and the water disappeared.  The north wind blew the water far out into the Gulf of Mexico and left mudflats nigh on as far as you could see.  Mud!  Lovely, mushy, quicksand-like mud now was laid bare by the winds.

The red arrow shows how far out the water was from the end of the pier this morning.  Mud flats!

  It always amazes me when this happens.  It is interesting to see what hides beneath the murky waters of the Bayou and Back Bay.  Exposed were all of the logs, derelict crab traps that (irresponsible) people leave behind and garbage that (stupid) people dump into the water.  Also to be seen was the myriad of critter tracks left behind by those in search of an easy meal.  Raccoons, fox, otters, herons, egrets and any other hungry critter could dine upon small fish and crustaceans trapped in the small puddles.  

  By late afternoon, the winds died down and the water returned to normal.  The temperatures started plummeting as soon as the sun set behind the pines and we will be witnesses to a tad bit of winter...albeit a short lived bit of winter.   With the cold tonight, the critters will surely appreciate the feast they found on the mudflats.  With their bellies full, they can hunker down in some snug spot and wait for the chill to pass.  I plan on doing the same. 

The Marsh Muncher

  Before dawn, I could stand it no longer.  I had to get to the pier.  With the old dog wanting to go but just not able to walk the boards, I have been avoiding the area.  It makes me sad that he can no longer make it to the end of the pier without falling.  But this morning, the water (or lack thereof) called and I heeded that call.  As to not make him miserable, I left the dog in bed and slipped out the back door.  He snoozed through my whole absence.  I had my break and was able to soak in a bit of Bayou atmosphere!

  I quietly padded down the hill on the rain-soaked pine straw.  This muffled my footsteps.  None of the Bayou critters even knew I was within a few feet of them.  Not that they would care as the critters already know that I mean them no harm.  Reaching the end of the pier, I became fully aware of the strong north wind that was sending chills through my body even though I had on a heavy jacket.  That very same wind had pushed the water far from the shore exposing the mudflats.  As I stood on the pier breathing in the scent of the saltwater, my ears suddenly picked up an unusual sound.  It was a sort of dragging yet flapping noise.  Slowly turning toward the sound, a dark figure could be seen making its way along the marsh edge.  Though not able to distinguish the type, I could tell that this critter was familiar with the marsh and mud.  Perhaps an otter?  Maybe a raccoon?  Or a nutria?  The latter was correct.  A lone mama nutria rat was easing her way toward my brother's pier.  I watched as she slid along on the mud with her tail occasionally slapping against the mud.  Once there, she immediately turned and retraced her steps through the soft mud.  She was coming straight for me!  Once she was within six feet of me, I asked her if she was enjoying her morning as much as I was.  Mama Nutria paused for a moment, eyed me carefully then went along her way.

  Although the nutria or coypu are quite destructive critters when it comes to the health of the marsh, it seems as if the alligators are doing a good job keeping them in check.  Ten years ago, dozens of the critters were living in the marsh here and were eating the marsh roots.  Their dining habits were leaving huge bare spots. Now, however, there seems to be just one or two.   This little mama gave birth to a pair of pups last spring but soon lost them. I have yet to see another family make an appearance.  Now there is talk that the Department of Marine Resources is considering removing most of the gators.  Big mistake!  Wake up, folks.  You remove the gators and the nutrias will soon overtake the area and the marshes will disappear.  Lets keep those gators right where they are and let them keep the marsh muncher numbers to a minimum.  I love watching the nutrias but not to the point of losing the very marsh that makes up the Bayou.

A Good Day to Cozy Up to the Woodstove!

  Its cold tonight.  Maybe not by other folks' standards but this is one of the chilliest nights that we have had on the Bayou in years.  I am feeling it in my bones.  We are snug in the Little Bayou House with the woodstoves chugging out the heat but when out and about the hillside, it is rattling cold.  Perhaps I am just getting old because I never remember being chilled as I am now.  I, also, never remember being as tired as I am now.   Since having temperatures in the teens is a rare occasion in the Deep South, we have to prepare for the cold just about like we do for a hurricane.  The tractors need tending, the garden covered, heat lamps put in the greenhouse, the water pump insulated, faucets wrapped and covered and "let drip" and firewood cut...lots of firewood.  More or less, until yesterday, these have been my jobs this winter.  Mark is off at work and Son had torn something in his knee.  With the two of them "out of commission", so to speak, the bulk of the chores fell to me.  Cutting, hauling and stacking firewood just about did me in.  Yep, I am getting old.  I am feeling a bit achy-breaky.  Top it off with that bone-chilling wind and I am just about ready to toss in the towel and crawl under the covers for the duration of this frigid weather!

  

  This morning while out with the old dog, I did brave the elements and made the trek to the pier.  The water calls to me...but when I got to the end of the pier...the water was gone!  All gone!  The same north wind that brought our icy air took our water!  Wintertime is notorious for low tides but this was a tad ridiculous!  Just about as far as I could see...mud.  Nothing but mud.  Instead of the twenty or so feet of mudflats, we had a span of several hundred feet of no water.  Boats were sitting high and dry in this blustery wind!  So, no fishing for me...even if I had wanted to cast a line.  Instead, I headed back to the Little Bayou House, made another mug of coffee and propped the feet up next to the old cast iron woodstove.  The old dog, Mr. PJ seemed to agree that this is exactly where we both should be on these cold morns.  Smart dog.

Into the Wind

  Mark and I were on the pier the other day when he noticed some egrets standing near the Bayou. Since he was toting my camera, he took several photographs of the birds for me.  Since the egrets were quite a distance from us, we could not even identify what type of egret they were.  We just knew that the setting sun was gleaming on their white plumage making them even more beautiful than normal.  We did notice that the whole row of maybe seven or eight birds were all facing the same way...into the wind.  Now that was strange!

  After a bit, I started thinking about our row of birds.  Why in the world would a group of birds stand facing into the wind?  If I was out there in the freezing cold and a stiff north wind was bearing down on me, I would seek some sort of windbreak. If the birds had just moved a couple of hundred feet to the west and hugged the shoreline, the tall marsh grass would have blocked a good bit of that wind.  Then again, perhaps they felt safer out in the middle of the mudflat.  Not many predators could sneak up on them out there in the open.  But, why were they all facing north?  After a bit, I turned away from the birds to look toward the south.  My long hair immediately got in my eyes obscuring my vision.  Ahhh, ok.  Now the enigma makes sense.  I imagine that the birds were facing north so their feathers were not being ruffled by the stiff wind thus keeping them much warmer.  Ok, so birds are smart.  

  There is still the question of why the birds were standing in a row, though.  Perhaps they were standing according to rank...who knows? Nope, I have that one figured out as well. The north wind had blown most of the water out of the Bay and nigh on all of the water from parts of the Bayou. Only a small rivulet trickled from the back of the Bayou. All of the birds were standing along the edge of this tiny stream.  These smart egrets were snatching up any minnows that were trying to escape to deeper water. 

  Ahh, the mysteries of the Bayou! We shall solve them one by one! Today's mystery of why egrets face the wind and stand in rows has been explained!  

Its STUCK!

One thing that is certain about winter on the Bayou is the fact that the tide is almost always low.  As long as that north wind blows, the mudflats are extended far out into the Bay.   This is a boon to most of the shore critters and waterfowl but makes for pathetic fishing for us!  I would have to catch some sort of mud fish!  Mark's small skiff can be pushed  across the four to five inches of water into deeper if he wished to go fishing but anyone with larger boats are just out of luck.  Anyone wanting to do winter fishing on the Bay had better think a bit ahead.

My brother has several large boats docked at his pier.  When the tide is blown far from the shore, these boats sit high and dry.  There would be no way possible to get them in deeper water.  I have to laugh every time I see this as it reminds me of a game that Mark and I used to play on the computer.  Whenever something would not open, the narrator would exclaim very dramatically, "Its STUCK!!!" .  Now whenever we face something difficult that is our "go to" phrase...."Its STUCK!"  I do believe it applies to the boats!  They are STUCK!  This low tide does make for some interesting pictures, though!

I have always been enthralled by the lack of water during low tide.  It is times like these that I can see just what is snagging  my line. Seeing all of the logs that have washed near the pier makes me wonder just how many of my hooks are embedded deep into the wood.  Shells, logs, antique bottles, paddles and other lost fishing gear can be seen from the height of the pier.  Sometimes I wish I could traipse about on the mudflats just to see what I could find!  That would never happen, though, as I would sink!  That mud is not unlike quicksand! It can suck you down under in a matter of minutes!  Once you start to go under, it is best not to flounder about.  The more you move, the more suction the mud generates on your body.  Soon you will find yourself completely mired!

Son can speak from experience.  Michael attempted to cross the Bayou a few summers past.  About midway through, his light step faltered and he sank to his knees.  The suction of the mud was almost more than his strength.  Had he not had the foresight to "lay flat" on the mud, I am not sure he would have made it across the thirty feet or so to the other side of the small channel.  I was no help whatsoever!  Since I was safe on the solid ground, all I could do was offer him encouragement (between fits of giggling!).  His commonsense told him to literally "swim" across the mud.  (That was one of the times that I sure missed having my camera handy!)  His trek...errr...floundering...took him to his destination but then he had to return by the same route.  More floundering in the mud and he was back safe and sound albeit terribly muddy!  More giggles and a good dousing with the water hose brought the episode to an happy end.

He and I have often talked about that incident when we observe the shore birds, raccoons, otters and nutria rats scurrying about on the mudflats.  How in the world do they keep from sinking?  Michael's experience taught him that it is all about weight distribution.  Those widely splayed toes on most of the marsh critters evens the distribution of weight to the point that the animals do not sink.  I need to practice that technique!  Perhaps if I can ever master it, I can scavenge the shoreline and find all sorts of neat treasures!  Wishful thinking never hurt anyone, right?  Maybe I should just leave the mud-walking to the critters!