Pine Ridge Creek By Kayak

The last of my three recent kayak trips was up Pine Ridge Creek.  This time, Orington took me and the kayak up in the boat to drop me off at the mouth of Pine Ridge Creek rather than paddling all the way up on the sea.  I did paddle all the way home, though, which was a total of 3.8 miles. 

Pine Ridge Creek drains an area between a shrimp farm and the sea.  Part of the swamp it drains goes all the way to Black Creel Lagoon.

Orington dropped me off a little before 7AM.  It was easier than I thought it might be to get into the kayak from the boat.  

Looking back toward the sea before heading up the creek.

After paddling for about 20 minutes, I reached the fork in the creek.  I decided to take the right fork that goes behind the shrimp farm first.  Lots of birds around, most numerous were juvenile and some mature yellow crowned night herons.  I also saw green herons, little blues, and bare throated tiger herons.  Many smaller other birds I didn't get a good look at, but I did spot a pair of black cowled orioles and quite a few doves of some sort.

The left fork turns south toward Black Creek Lagoon and the right fork heads west and then north.

Soon after the fork, the terrain changes and the pines giving the creek its name appear along both banks.  

You can see the pines up ahead.

The banks are steeper and there is actual dry ground where the pine trees grow, rather than the mangrove swamp along the lower part of the creek.  The birding highlight for this trip was the agami heron I saw skulking around near a little side stream.  I had seen an agami heron in the same location a number of years ago.  Good to know they are still around.  They are beautiful birds.  Alas, I have no photos of it or any of the other birds I saw and heard on this trip.

As I remembered from a previous trip, the creek makes a sharp turn to the north.  I think this portion may be manmade as part of the shrimp farm drainage.  The pines are not part of this section, which is predominantly red mangrove swamp.

The turn to the north.

After about an hour of paddling, this was as far as I could go without a machete, so I turned around and headed back.

I made a side trip up the other fork of the creek and explored a little flat open space.  By this time the sun was higher and there was very little bird activity aside from the group of juvenile yellow crowned night herons that I disturbed.  By 9:40 I reached the mouth of the creek and began paddling south toward home.

Beginning the return trip.

I took a couple of photos of other points of interest along the Englishtown strip.  First is a nice spot owned by our friend Craig.  He doesn't stay here full time any longer, but keeps it well-maintained.

Craig's Place.

The second is a former small fishing resort, which has fallen into ruin.  It is also owned by friends of ours, who about 10 years ago bought a lovely farm just off the Hummingbird Highway not too far from Belmopan, the capitol of Belize.

It was lovely in its heyday.

Our place is just to the south off the left side of the photo above.  And so I am almost home after 3 hours.  It was a beautiful morning.

Kayaking with Dennis

Dawn came with a silky stillness in the primordial air.  

Gentle undulations rock the sea like a faint heartbeat, punctuated by the silent passage of egrets skimming the surface.

To the north, the sky clears as dawn breaks free of the low clouds and day begins in earnest.  

A day made for kayaking, slipping soundlessly along the water's surface, at one with the natural world.  Dennis and I head toward the sunlight in the north, easing in and out of passages amongst the mangroves.

We glide up to herons, like this yellow-crowned night heron.

Alert to our prescence, this yellow-crowned night heron is not unduly agitated.

OK, you are getting into my personal space here.

A little too close for comfort; I am out of here...

Way back in the marsh we saw a flash of peacock blues and greens.  What on earth?  It flew into the heavy mangrove tangle and walked from root to root, always keeping on the far side of vegetation, giving us only glimpses of a bird with a heron-like neck and bill but with a bulky, turkey-like, body.  It cautiously peeked out at us, seemingly as curious about us as we were about it. I got a couple of shots in hopes of being able to key it out later.  I succeeded in capturing the world's worst photos of the world's most beautiful bird - the Agami Heron.  Click here for the world's best photos of this fabulous bird.

I marked the tip of its beak with a purple arrow and its eye with a vertical arrow. Doesn't seem possible, does it?  But you can see it again in the next shot.

And again vertical arrow marks the eye and the horizontal one marks the tip of the beak.  The unusually long beak is one of the Agami's identifying characteristics.

Better luck in photographing a juvenile green heron.

The gloom of the tangled vegetation can't hide this lovely bird, but doesn't do much for the photo.  :-(

It very nicely cooperated and turned its streaked breast toward the camera.

We'll be back for more of that Agami heron and perhaps to see the green heron mature.