A Corker of a Kayak Trip

In Cape Charles, Va., Grab a Paddle . . . And a Wineglass

On Virginia's Eastern Shore, SouthEast Expeditions takes adventurers to Chatham Vineyards for a drink, then to a gentle creek for kayaking and, of course, more wine. (By Ellen Mccarthy -- The Washington Post)

It's really just a shame, isn't it? Thousands of perfectly fine kayaking excursions are ruined each year by the senseless lack of libations. Oh, sure, there are raging waters and placid passages and random spottings of whatever kind of drab-feathered owl is spiraling toward extinction this week.

But what if one prefers to paddle while savoring the intense tropical citrus flavors of a steel-aged French clone chardonnay? Is it asking too much to want a bit of vine-ripened spirit as the accompaniment to an endeavor that's so often -- well, not dry exactly but, you know, dry.

The refined people of Cape Charles, Va., sure don't think so.

Which is exactly the thing that prompted me and my friend Allie to pack up and head to the southern tip of Virginia's Eastern Shore recently. After four hours spent asking "Who lives in these towns?" and "Who shops at that Macy's?" and "Why is there a College of Pharmacy in the same strip mall as a Burger King?" we pulled up to the converted garage-style headquarters of SouthEast Expeditions.

There we found Dave Burden, loading a slew of kayaks onto the trailer behind his pickup. If you like your boating/wine tasting guides to look as if they just stepped off the set of "Northern Exposure," Dave's your guy.

He signed us in, told us to follow his lead and away we -- um . . . huh. A kayak flew off the back of Dave's truck into the middle of the road, and he kept on keeping on without ever looking back.

Allie and I aren't skittish types, really, but we suddenly found ourselves hoping for shallow waters and weak winds.

But first, a drink at Chatham Vineyards, just a few miles outside of town in Machipongo. It's a Federal-style mansion surrounded by a lush old farm that Northern Virginia native Jon Wehner and his wife, Millie, planted with vines eight years ago.

"You can really taste the Eastern Shore," Wehner said as he moved from the oak-barreled chardonnay to its not-too-sweet rosé. It's a small operation -- and one of only a handful in the region -- but the wines were wonderfully drinkable and the atmosphere cozy.

Dave, who had led us to the vineyard and disappeared with the boats (retrieving the wayward kayak in the process), was back now, wearing shorts and flip-flops despite the infuriating April chill. It was time to paddle, he said, so we followed him to the bank of a gently flowing body of water he introduced as Church Creek, which apparently leads to another little creek, which leads to the Chesapeake Bay. No Class VI rapids here.

After about 25 minutes or so on the water, Dave began expounding on facets of the creek's environment. Something about salt marshes or egrets or osprey. But, oh, who cared about that, because then he was pulling us to shore and uncorking bottles of red and white.

Turns out our kayaking expedition consisted mostly of a cocktail hour on a spit of land 200 yards offshore. Salut! We settled in as Dave and Donna Bozza, the other local among our band of six, recounted tales of life in tiny Cape Charles (population under 2,000 at the moment).