Solo kayaker travels the Savannah River with the help and kindness of strangers
On the eve of her 50th birthday, Cathy Brennan was ready for change. Like a verse from a tragic country tune, she’d come through a tough divorce then not long after was laid off from a job of 10 years. Meanwhile, both of her children had recently left home for college. Alone, yet determined not to let the circumstances dictate any more of her melody, Brennan changed keys, switched it up at the bridge, and started long-distance solo kayaking.
Flash forward 14 years and at least a dozen rivers later, when in May the 5-foot-2-inches tall Brennan, now 64 and a grandmother living in New Jersey, took on the Savannah River. She started Memorial Day Weekend near its origin on the Seneca and for a little more than a month followed the waterway roughly 300 miles to Tybee Island and the Atlantic Ocean.
Brennan, no stranger to water, grew up on a lake, swimming, boating, and eventually working as a lifeguard. Her family lovingly called her “fish.” In 2010 on her first solo kayaking trip, she set out with a smattering of supplies—tent, sleeping bag, rain gear, change of clothes, water filter, first aid kit, lots of ramen and granola—all tucked into a small 9-a-half-foot long bright yellow plastic kayak she still uses today.
“It can’t be any bigger,” said Brennan. “When I portage and carry my gear, it all has to be a size and weight I can manage on my own.”
She also has a set of wheels that aid in maneuvering the boat.
In two months, she completed all 740 miles of the Northern Forest Canoe Trail, which runs from upstate New York to Maine and flows through America’s largest intact ecosystem east of the Mississippi.
Brennan is quick to point out how that first trip was all about “getting into a different rhythm, a flow, and going out into the woods to think about things for a while.”
Her successful Northern Forest venture grabbed the attention of Men’s Journal magazine plus a slew of local and regional media outlets. As Brennan began singing a happier refrain, she knew paddling long distances alone on rivers was a song written deep in her soul.
To date, she’s navigated 444 miles on the Susquehanna, 410 miles of the Connecticut River, 348 miles on the James River and more. Last summer, she paddled the Potomac, prompting the Washington Post to feature her adventures as a solo kayaker.
Making her way with the kindness of strangers
For Brennan’s Savannah River trip as with all her others, she carries a satellite transponder pinging location information every 10 minutes to her family and a cell phone with extended battery, though she often lacks reception due to the remoteness of her journeys. Brennan has a set of maps for dam locations and access roads to portage around them. She explains that getting around dams is different in every state.
“In Pennsylvania, there’s a regulation that if a navigable river is dammed, the state must provide portage. But that’s not the case in Georgia, and I had to find other ways to get around.”
North of Augusta near New Savannah Bluff Lock and Dam, a small hydroelectric facility churns away. Here, the kindness of strangers assisted Brennan. Two men in a golf cart transported her and her gear, but the best part were the treats they shared with her.
“Mostly, I’m filtering water and drinking it from the river, but these guys had cold water, fruit, and Rice Krispie treats,” laughed Brennan. “I don’t know which I was happier to have, a ride or the sweet snacks.”
Though life on the river as a solo adventurer is spartan, it’s the wildlife and solitude that Brennan enjoys time and time again. She marveled at the alligators, birds, and trees along the Savannah, and near Augusta she saw a swallow-tailed kite for the first time. As soon as she had cell reception, she called and reported her sighting to biologists studying the migratory raptor. Every day, she paddled hours with no people in sight.
Since Augusta marked her journey’s midpoint, she had booked a couple nights at a hotel to recharge. The only challenge was the accommodations were about a mile from the 5th Street Marina where she pulled out. A local outfitter put her in touch with Augusta resident and avid kayaker John Meeks who helped Brennan get to her hotel.
“What she’s doing is harrowing and that she does it alone is impressive,” pondered Meeks. “I paddled every day for a year, and it’s not an easy task. Just thinking about all the food, water, everything that could go wrong, even with people lots can go wrong. I’m impressed with her demeanor, attitude, and her tenacity.”
Meeks stored Brennan’s boat while she enjoyed respite at the hotel, and he made sure she and all her gear got back to the marina a couple days later.
In a week or so, Brennan ran into another set of challenges. She was near Clyo, Georgia, with a broken tent and an approaching storm. She had enough phone reception to text her sister in Philadelphia, who immediately went online and found nearby Blackwater Expeditions. Her sister called, and owner Brian Cohen answered, agreeing to meet Brennan at Tuckasee King Landing. Cohen then helped with her gear and brought Brennan to a motel near Port Wentworth.
Echoing the sentiment of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Proud Mary,” Cohen’s description of the intervention comes through in terms of “how people on the river are happy to give.”
“Kayak people stick together. We help people when we can,” said Cohen. “We got her a bottle of wine and a safe hotel room,” said Cohen. That’s how we do it. People on the river, we help each other.”
The next day Cohen delivered her and her gear to the Tommy Long Boat Landing on Ebenezer Creek. He’d convinced her to do the three-mile paddle through its slow moving blackwater lined with stoic cypress and tupelos leading back to the Savannah River.
“Brian told me all about Ebenezer Creek, and it’s history within the Civil War,” recalled Brennan. “He is one of the kindest people and knows so much about the trees there. I had never seen so many beautiful cypresses. That was a highlight of the trip.”
The biggest challenge, though, was yet to come. Brennan had to maneuver through the Port of Savannah before completing the final 15 miles of the adventure.
She reveals being nervous concocting her navigation strategy. She noted, “All the bad stuff was on the Georgia side of the river”—large ships, huge docks, so much activity. Brennan, paddling against the incoming tide, hugged the South Carolina bank to avoid being run over or sucked into the wake of a passing ship.
With the Hostess City’s iconic bridge stretching before her, Brennan was making it until she noticed a giant barge being pushed by a tugboat. The barge was unfurling a large black tube that prevented her from paddling any further along the South Carolina shore. To get around the approaching tug and barge, she swiftly paddled toward the center of the river. As she did, the barge pressed forward, showing no signs of slowing. With all her might, Brennan got out of its path and other ship traffic without injury or upset, describing it as “the most nerve-wracking and frightening experience of the trip.”
When she finally disembarked on River Street, she tucked her boat under a set of stairs and made her way to the nearest restaurant where she ordered a medium-rare cheeseburger and water with lots of ice.
Acknowledging the kindness of the people who have helped her along the way on each trip and fully embracing that solo kayaking isn’t for everyone, Brennan hopes her adventures will inspire more people, especially women and girls, to go out and find their song through experiencing the natural world on their own.
“Doing this solo is extremely important to me,” reflected Brennan. “It forces me to be present and focus only on what is before me. It’s hours and hours of hard, frustrating work punctuated by moments of incredible beauty. It’s like chasing the dragon. It is a mind-body cleanse when I am out there away from what I’m accustomed to. It is beautiful. It is restorative.”
This article originally appeared on Savannah Morning News: Solo kayaker travels the 300-mile Savannah River
