Going Coastal

The waters around Virginia Beach provide a great habitat for a growing species: Touristus Kayakus.

Kayaking is the new hiking.

After years of growing modestly along the adventure margins, these sleek boats are now making splashes with the masses. According to a 2005 participation study by the Outdoor Industry Association of America, it's the second-fastest-growing outdoor sport in the country, with the number of paddlers up 130 percent since 1998.

If you're a paddler-come-lately, Virginia's Tidewater region may be the perfect place to catch up. Those who think of the Virginia Beach coastline as high-rise hotels and novelty trinket shops just aren't looking hard enough. The surrounding area of the Tidewater has 121 miles of paddle-friendly waterways and a growing number of outfitters and guides. I sampled one, the three-day Sea Kayak Discovery Weekend, offered by Wild River Outfitters Touring Co. Two nights in a waterfront lodge between long hours afloat make for a rich introduction to the sport.

"It's designed to be instructional but relaxing," says Ed Schiller, Wild River's head instructor, who's been paddling the area for 11 years. "I want to make people realize they can do this and stay in their own comfort zone."

In mid-June, a dozen promising paddlers put on life vests and joined Schiller on the open waters. Exemplifying the wide demographic that kayaking is now attracting, the attendees ranged from a 24-year-old software engineer to a 49-year-old nurse to a handful of new retirees just over 60.

Early outings started with the group working together on basic strokes, using the forgiving flow of the Back Bay's quiet current to learn the difference between a sweep and a draw. Then it was on to solo and assisted rescues, because thin and sleek touring kayaks are bit easier to tip than the family canoe. Being restrained by a spray skirt in the cockpit is initially uncomfortable, especially when you're upside down, but five easy steps had boaters above the surface in seconds.

Once the fundamentals were instilled, paddlers could either take a break or paddle some more. Through the weekend, Schiller offered optional nature paddles that skirted the marshy swamps and glided past sunning brown snakes. For early risers there was a sunrise outing to work up an appetite before breakfast, and night owls could indulge in a moonlit stroll.

The instructional long weekend takes place off the shoreline of False Cape State Park. Tucked into the city's southeastern corner, the unspoiled mile-wide peninsula is nestled between the Atlantic Ocean and the calmer waters of Back Bay. Closed to automobiles, it's an oasis of wind-brushed rolling white sand dunes backing up against a thick maritime forest of live oaks, loblolly pines and wax myrtles. Paddlers exploring the bay glide through slowly meandering waters peppered with marsh islands.

This is the habitat of perching osprey, the occasional bald eagle and the rare loggerhead turtle. Cuddled by the protected lands of the state park and the adjacent 8,000-acre Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge, it's idyllically secluded, largely free of motorboat miasma.

The best courses let paddlers develop their sea legs at their own pace. Ours was a group learning experience structured enough to learn the fundamentals but loose enough to be called a vacation. By the end, new boaters are touting know-how in strokes and rescues, towing, navigation and even some surf-zone strategies.

But it's not all drills. There's plenty of time to poke about calm coves or get aerobic with a long-distance paddle out to Cedar Island. And those feeling confident in their skills can put in on the other side of the spit and ride the waves of the Atlantic.

To recharge from the long days on the water, our group had a comfortably rustic state park lodge all to ourselves on the water's edge -- piling in bunkmate style, which enhanced the communal spirit of the day's activities.