had a pretty good scare at Nobska yesterday: Low tide at 1830 ought not to be missed this time of year, so Iwaded out to one of the outermost southwest rocks. One can just make it at low tide with chest-high waders. That spot gets one close to where the east-west current in the sound meets the north-south flow through the hole.
Since the hole starts to flood some 1.5 hrs before low tide in the sound, for a time there is a south flow past the west spot of the point and a west flow along the south edge of the point. I got there just as the hole was starting to flood; it's a good time because the fish will leave their holding rocks and cruise in while the tide flow is reforming.
Anyway, about an hour later, the south flow was going at ~1.5 kts, the westerly flow was starting to strenghten, and I just fell off the rock. I spun around afterhearing what may have been a rise and missed my footing. The next instant, I was in 8' deep water. By the time I was able to respond, I was some 10' out and moving out. My rod was gone, and I tried swimming back, but kept loosing ground. Stopped to think some 20-30' out and remembered a rock about 2' under the surface which should be somewhere downcurrent. I found it just in time and was able to climb and hang onto it. The most amazing part, now that I have time to think about it, that I had time just for that one thought before I was getting swept past the rock.
Once on the rock, I had time to think things over. It was about waist deep but I could lean into the current and keep my footing. The waders were OK; the drawstring and belt kept much of the water out, and they weren't an encumbrance. The stripping basket was a no-go (ever try swimming with a stripping basket) and I had to get rid of it. Fly box seemed to be OK on my back. Of course, there was nobody in sight.
I noticed I was only some 10' out in the south-flowing rip, and I could probably swim against the just-starting west current. Then I mapped out two intermediate rocks I knew I had to get back to, and thought about how I had to make it back to the rock I was on if I couldn't make the first one. Trouble was, Ididn't think I coould make it back to the rock I was on against the rip. So it was all or nothing. After looking around some more and still not seeing anyone within hail, I swam for it. It wasn't as tough as I had feared, and I made it to the dry rocks along the way I had planned. Found the fly line on a rock and retrieved the rod and got home minus just the stripping basket.
Here's a couple of things to ponder. I know Nobska as well as most people and still almost got into trouble. The sacriest part is recalling just how little time I had between going in and getting swept past the last submerged rock. If that hadn't been the first thought in my mind, I would have had a long drift in the sound last night. The one message to be had out of this is: think about what you'd do if you wipe out wading in your favorite spot.
On the bright side the waders were never an encumbrance,(Orvis breathable stocking foot with light hiking shoes outside) and trapped air actually helped swimming. It wasn't cold, and the tide was almost slack. I'll be out there tonight.