This weekend I have paddling plans of a different sort. Elaine and I are taking a two-day class on Greenland kayaking from Maine guide Bob Myron.

The first day involves making a Greenland paddle and learning about traditional paddling. The second day is on the water learning braces and rolls with our homemade paddles.

We know a couple who took the class last year and came out with some fantastic rolls. So we're looking forward to learning new skills.

Then I'm on vacation to an undisclosed location on an undisclosed body of water. My cell phone is already lost, and my laptop has been confiscated. I hope to spend the time practicing new skills.

Have good week. Get out. Be safe. And have fun.

So Elaine hit her roll on her first try last night. She continued to do well but started missing it after awhile. I blame fatigue.

Me. Let's say I made progress. My paddle goes straight down when I start. Elaine worked with me quite a bit on it. She would hold me by my PFD and let me move my paddle.

We were using repetition to teach my body how to move. Problem when I got out on my own though, the paddle went straight down.

More practice. More repetition.

Tonight, Elaine and I are working on rolls. It's part of a long pursuit.

At the end of the summer, I learned the C to C in my whitewater boat. But it never got consistent. This summer I've been trying to apply it to my sea kayak.

She got her sweep last summer but seemed to have lost it over the winter. But Sunday we were at Range Pond and worked on it.

I need to thank Pat for organizing Tuesday night's paddle around Cushing Island. It was sort of organized at the last minute. But I had my kayak on top of the car and was good to go.

Pat, Ron and I took off from East End Beach toward Fort Gorges and Little Diamond Island. Then to Peaks. There was quite a bit of chop generated by the boat traffic. It was just enough to make sure we paid attention.

The boat traffic practically disappeared once we got to Cushing. There was one boat parked off the cliffs to do some fishing.

This is one of my favorite spots. The cliffs on the northeast part of Cushing rise high above the water. There's always great wave action crashing against them. Sometimes I like to test my skills by getting close to the cliffs. But last night I kept a respectable distance between me and the rocks.

Like I said, there's little boat traffic. And we the views of Casco Bay are stunning. This also is less protected water. The water is moves out here because of tides and weather. Our boats bob on top of rolling swells instead of being slapped by the mini-waves found between Peaks and Portland. On big weather days, the water can be tricky to manage. Last night, it was just enough to make us pay attention.

The trip along the east side of the island is a treat too. We get strong currents and views of Portland Head Light. And there's a good chance of seeing seals. And we saw one last night keeping an eye on us in the water.

Again, none of the waves were threatening. But they required our attention. Especially here. That side of the island is all rock. There would be no place to land if there was trouble. The waves crash upon jagged, ugly rock.

The trip back to EEB tends to be less eventful except for the boat traffic. But it takes you past House Island. There's plenty there to see from the water. (Don't land on the island because the family that owns it enforces its "No Trespassing" policy.)

Because of timing, this also is the time to see great sunsets.

It's an intermediate trip. It's between six and seven miles roundtrip. Which means you should be a decent paddler in a longer kayak to make it back by dark. But returning in the dark can be done safely. Remember to bring lights. You also need to have some experience in active water. Once you get past Peaks, the ocean changes. You can get into some high waves quickly. Bracing skills could be a lifesaver. And don't forget to look both ways. You cross two major channels - twice. And the area surrounded by Peaks, Cushing and House islands is a high traffic zone. Casco Bay ferries are in there regularly.

And it is one of my favorite trips. Once you get past Peaks, you feel like you are more than a few miles away from Portland. It's a great way to escape most of the modern world without leaving our backyard.

Wow, it's Tuesday already. Saturday's paddle seems so long ago. But I shall blog on.

Elaine and I took off from Sand Beach on Cousins Island about an hour after high tide. The air temps were perfect for a paddle. The water... cold enough for me to put on the shorty wet suit. And the wind was pretty tame.

We headed northeast through the Moshiers, past the Bustins and stopped at Sow and Pig islands. It was a good paddle but we had to cross a couple busy channels. There were quite a few stops as we waited to make sure we didn't cross in front of large power boats. It has been awhile since we have been in traffic like that. But we were alert and careful.

Sow and Pig are a couple of very nice, small islands. A few boats stopped there too. We saw a couple people in a paddleboat round a corner. That's a first for me.

I should keep a list of rare boaters I spot like the birders do. Not only did I see the paddle boat, but I spotted the somewhat common red-breasted single paddler.

This paddler was spotted heading out in a small kayak (without bulkheads) taking nothing with him but a paddle. It was a fine paddle. But he had nothing else. No:

• PFD
• Floatation to keep water out of the kayak if it flipped
• Anything to keep him warm if he got wet
• Any equipment to help him get back in the kayak if he fell out
• Signaling devices
• Hope in Hell of surviving a swim back to land once he got more than 50 yards from shore.

And he got out there. Paddlers like him usually stick close to the beach. Maybe explore a nearby cove. But he put himself between the island and mainland.

Sure, it was a calm day. And he probably has done it lots of times. But if anything went slightly wrong, he had nothing to help him survive. Not even a buddy.

The good news is that he got back to the beach about the same time we did. He was very dry. I'm sure he had no problems.

But still.

I bought my GPS as a safety measure for hiking. I would mark the trail head and shove it in my pack. I figured if I got lost, the GPS would point me back to my car.

Since it was waterproof, I figured it would help kayaking. The actual scenario I envisioned was being out on the water when pea-soup fog rolled into the area. I could use the GPS to find the launch or latest waypoint I marked.

And I would use it to tell me how far I paddled. It even gave me a speed reading.

That's more useful than you think. No, I'm not worried about speeding. But using it taught me I can paddle comfortably at 3.5 mph. Which helps me judge travel time and navigation.

The GPS also has a compass - which I never really used it for that. Good thing. Last week I tried out a deck compass on my kayak. Just for the heck of it, I compared it to the compass reading from the GPS.

They gave me different readings. I'm talking 20 to 30 degrees difference. How did I know which was right? I compared what I saw with features on the map I bought. The map wasn't super detailed or accurate. But it was enough to lead me to have faith in my deck compass.

I'm keeping the GPS. I've tested the waypoint marking and am confident that it work.

But even in this day of great tecnology, compass and map skills are not wasted.

I just returned from camping at Moosehead Lake. Elaine and I were lucky enough to snag a site on the shore. It wasn't the greatest launching conditions (just a bit of muck), but we could paddle from our campsite.

The weather was variable but not bad. I spent the best day, Tuesday, in the tent on the edge of nausea. On Monday, we had a rain shower or two. Each only lasted a few minutes. The worst weather came Thursday morning as we packed up the car. That's really not a bad way to schedule a vacation.

We had a 14.5-mile paddle around Sugar Island. Moosehead is surrounded by mountains so we had a great, new view each time we rounded a corner.

Moosehead is a big lake that can see waves worthy of the ocean. But you duck behind an island, you can be sitting on water doing its best imitation of glass.

This makes it official. I love my Chatham. It performed beautifully. The wind had very little influence on it. I chalk it up to its low volume, lack of a rudder and its excellent tracking.

I'm not bragging but Elaine and I had the biggest kayaks up there. That kind of surprising. Like I said, Moosehead had ocean-worthy waves. I understand a lot of people prefer small, recreational kayaks. And there are a lot of protected coves they are content to paddle around.

But I wonder why such a huge body of water with so much variety doesn't attract "serious" kayakers like us. I do turn my nose up at flatwater paddling. But there are challenges there for sea kayakers.

Like I said, the waves. And it is big enough that you can do long distance paddles without getting bored. It's worth carting the sea kayaks up to Greenville.

Stay tuned for more and photos from the lake.