I like the ease of self-correcting systems: computer programs that automatically perform their own weekly maintenance; marriages that smoothly absorb job stress, illness or financial setbacks; weather patterns that keep global temperatures within a biologically friendly range.
I guess that's why I'm so enamored of a new food fad: kayaking to dinner.
The exercise you expend getting to dinner compensates for whatever calories you consume when you finally get to eat. Completely self-correcting!
Of course your restaurant choices are limited, since you can only pick those with boardable docks on the water. And you do have to learn how to paddle, handle and steer a kayak, but that's a small price to pay to experience nature's mighty beauty, rack up serious exercise, and feast with fellow kayakers.
A number of kayak and canoe outfitters lead regular group outings to restaurants. Some make regular trips elsewhere to picnic on deserted islands that dot the Bay area. Usually with a fiery sunset as a backdrop, they cook hot dogs over an open fire, drink sangria straight from gigantic bottles, and throw down trail mix as dessert.
I've enjoyed one such picnic on a teensy spit of land called Hot Dog Island. But this time, I wanted to go to a restaurant. I found two outfitters — one in Pinellas and one in Hillsborough — that provided technical support in the form of boat rentals, guides and route advice.
My first trip started at dusk at St. Petersburg's Bay Pines boat ramp. My guide was Mike Berthold, of Carolina Mike's Kayaking Adventures in St. Petersburg. They rent kayaks for trips lasting anywhere from a few hours to a week or more. The single kayak he provided cost $30 for the evening; my meal was extra.
A half-dozen diners met at Bay Pines boat ramp. Our destination was Cajun Café on the Bayou, north along Cross Bayou, in Pinellas Park.
At first, it didn't seem promising because we were literally within sight of the massive lights at Tyrone Square Mall. However, once we paddled away from the bridge, we felt as if we had entered some primeval wilderness.
Big birds waded in the clear, 3-inch-deep water. Schools of silvery mullet leapt into the air.
Night washed away the last tint of sunset with a long purple stain, strewn with stars and a fingernail moon. The bayou lay before us like a mirror, so smooth and peaceful and just a whisper of breeze ruffling the mangroves.
I was fine for most of the 90-minute trip to the restaurant, until I got out of the kayak and noticed that my clothes were wet from the paddle's spray. Luckily, someone loaned me dry clothes so I could eat without shivering. It felt great to wrap my chilled hands around a steaming cup of hot tea. Pretty soon, a bowl of Creole gumbo came my way ($4.50). It was soupier and not as spicy as gumbo I've enjoyed elsewhere, but I liked its hearty chunks of meat and vegetables. It was followed by a so-so version of shrimp étouffée ($11.95), which is supposed to scald your mouth with hot peppers and shock your tongue with spice. It was much too tame.
A couple of us wolfed down the restaurant's whiskey bread pudding ($4.95), French-style bread pocked with raisins and soaked in whiskey-butter sauce, then topped with vanilla creme. It needed spice, too, but I ate every bite since it was hot and I knew I had more paddling ahead of me. (Kayaking burns a couple hundred calories an hour.) Just before midnight, I finally saw the lights of the Seminole Bridge welcoming me back to the dock.
My second outing took place during the day, and entailed a longer excursion to lunch at the Green Iguana Bar & Grill at Rocky Point in Tampa. My guide that day was Jason Theis, one of three partners who own Mad Paddlers Kayak & Surf Shop, facing bustling Hillsborough Avenue. He rented me a dandy, fire-engine red kayak, charging $30 for the trip.
In contrast to the calm weather I enjoyed on my first trip, the second dining adventure was marred by heavy wind. It made paddling much more difficult, sending rows of whitecaps up our route, south along Rocky Creek. Once we turned east into Tampa Bay toward the restaurant, the going got harder, as the wind had roiled the bay into a choppy, heaving mess. If I stopped paddling even for a moment, the wind blew me off course and threatened to turn me over into the bay.
I paddled like a machine for a couple of hours. Finally, I emerged at the man-made beach in front of the Green Iguana like some wild woman, exhausted and thirsty. I fell into a booth, ready for a good stiff drink. What I got was a bad Cuervo margarita ($5.50) in a plastic cup with no salt on the rim and not much tequila, lime or flavor.
When the food came, we were glad to see it, even though most of it was greasy bar food. We started with calamari appetizer ($6.95), tough fried squid served with rémoulade sauce, utterly forgettable except that it was hot, and we were cold and windblown. I hoped the coconut chicken ($5.95) appetizer might be better, but its delicate crust was burned.
The Iguana advertises its burger as "Best of the Bay," but I found it ordinary, at best. Paradoxically, the only fried dish that wasn't hopelessly greasy was the one that is best cooked twice with hot oil — french fries; they were as dry as twigs. Probably the restaurant's best dish was its simplest: a gourmet chicken salad wrap ($6.50), reasonably good chicken salad wrapped with raisins, walnuts, shredded lettuce, onions and tomato. Hard to screw up!
I wished I'd skipped dessert. It was a brownie ($4.95) layered with vanilla ice cream and caramel, and topped with plantain strips that had been badly burned. Since the stiff plantains were stuck upright in the ice cream, they looked like blackened palmettos that had been swept by a horrible forest fire.
We got back into the kayaks and paddled for another two hours. The burned plantains ground around in my stomach while my paddle dug around in the bay. We were glad to make the right turn back toward Rocky Creek, so the wind would be at our backs for the first time all day.
I thought I might be able to stop paddling altogether and let the wind just blow me back, but it drove me ignominiously into the mangroves. I had to disentangle my hair and paddle harder to return to the middle of the channel. I was glad to finally reach the shelter of Carmen Lagoon, which took us to the back door of Mad Paddlers.
The moral: There is no guarantee that self-correcting systems will function properly.
Carolina Mike's Kayaking Adventures, 1206 Oak St. N.E., #4, St. Petersburg (727-502-5594, www.carolinamike.com).
Cajun Café on the Bayou, 8101 Park Blvd., Pinellas Park (727-546-6732, www.cajuncafeonthebayou.olm.net).
Mad Paddlers Kayak & Surf Shop, 8808 Rocky Creek Drive, Tampa (813-243-5737, 727-738-4676, www.madpaddlers.com).
Green Iguana Bar & Grill, Rocky Point, 7627 Courtney Campbell Causeway, Tampa (813-288-9076, www.greeniguana.com).
Sara's Tips for Kayaking to Dinner
* Wear waterproof protection, either a "skirt" that fits around you as you sit in the kayak to repel water, or over-the-clothes protection like Frogg Toggs, waterproof, windproof outerwear you can order at specialty stores or at www.frogtoggs.com (yes, the website spelling of "frog" doesn't match the product's quirky nomenclature, and "togs" isn't spelled correctly in the URL or the product name).
* Beginners, take a guide with you to help you find your way, and limit a dining paddle to an hour, roundtrip.
* Take a change of clothes; remember a large water bottle, sunscreen, hat and bug repellent in summer.
* Wear a life vest and carry a cellphone in a waterproof bag, in case of emergency.
After too many creme brûlées, too many unctuous waiters and too many stints as The Martini Tester's designated driver, Sara Kennedy has resigned her post as Weekly Planet's food editor. She plans to pursue other, less calorific interests. We wish her well.
This article appears in Mar 4-10, 2004.