Siuslaw serenity by sea kayak sans wind.

Byline: THE OUTSIDER By John Rezell The Register-Guard

Andy Small gave a gentle push to launch me from the boat landing at the Florence Marina, out toward the churning action known as the Siuslaw River, and instinctively I did what any kid would do and any parent would cringe at.

I began to rock the boat.

Actually, rock the kayak. The sea kayak.

Small, who runs Oregon By Kayak, invited me for a little paddling up the Siuslaw for my first taste of sea kayaking. The day before he wondered if I was up for "some current, or would you rather take it easy."

What would he suggest, I asked? Current, he said. Crank up the watts, I replied.

That was all fine and dandy, and long before I got a message on my cell phone during my drive to Florence.

"Raz, this is Andy. Hey, I'm coming down the coast and I'm not sure if you know or not, but it's pretty gusty and cold out here. Hope you brought something to keep you warm."

Warm? How about something to keep me afloat?

The gusts sent my baseball hat aloft more than once as we took the kayaks off the truck and prepared for departure.

Having spent an afternoon once battling headwinds alone in a canoe, zig-zagging across a lake like a bad summer camp movie - I saw the cabin owners on the lake were calling each other to watch out the window at my madness - I asked for the skinny: How does a kayak compare to a canoe in winds?

"Much better," Andy said, "but neither is ever easy."

We did have the tides in our favor. We launched about two hours before high tide, which was sweeping in. With any luck, if we survived the powerful crosswinds, the tide would help sweep us back to the marina.

In any event, I was rocking the kayak when Small suggested I do exactly that. Get a feel for what I could and couldn't do before we set sail, so to speak.

That's what it felt like - setting sail with the wind whipping me around - in the main channel, as we headed upstream. We spotted a harbor seal swimming along in the middle.

I paused to watch just long enough to send me in his direction. From then on, keeping the wind from blowing me across to the other bank like a piece of driftwood in a storm proved to be quite a challenge as I tried to correct my path.

Eventually I got a rhythm going. It sparked enough confidence in Small that we turned and went straight into the teeth of the wind, up the North Fork of the Siuslaw, under Highway 126, to quiet points unknown.

That's where the adventure turned from physical challenge to psychological pleasure. An easy paddle upstream with the tide easing the way as we discussed parenthood.

That's the difference, I'm told, between sea kayaking and raging down the whitewater in river kayaking. The point is, I was no longer fearful of capsizing and drowning, trapped in my kayak.

Suddenly I saw a few playful heads along the river surface. I wasn't quite sure what I saw. Andy eventually confirmed: River otters.

"Wow, I've never seen river otters out here," Andy said, as the band of four disappeared from view. Andy saw them escape up the bank into the thick forest on the side.

From then on it was a relaxing day on the river. Until, of course, we returned to the main channel. That's when the work began again. By the time we beached our kayaks back at the landing, we'd come full circle.

Two great workouts sandwiched between a stretch of serenity you just can't find without a little effort.

That made it all worthwhile.

John Rezell, aka Raz, is former editor of VeloNews magazine and bike.com. His goal is to experience the Oregon outdoors with our readers. Invite him along on your next adventure at [e-mail].