How a Random Kayak Purchase Became Our Life’s Work

Look, I’ll be honest, this whole thing started with a midlife crisis that was way cheaper than a sports car.

The Craigslist Kayak That Changed Everything

Ten years ago, I was scrolling through Craigslist at 2 AM (as one does), and I saw a beat-up old kayak for $150. The listing said “barely used” which is Craigslist-speak for “I used it once, got terrified, and it’s been gathering spiders in my garage ever since.”

I bought it. No idea why. I’d never kayaked before in my life.

That First Paddle

The next Saturday, I dragged that kayak to the nearest beach launch, watched a YouTube video on “how to not flip a kayak immediately,” and just… went for it.

Thirty seconds in, I flipped it. Of course I did.

But once I figured out the whole “sitting upright” thing, something clicked. The water was glass-smooth. The sun was setting. A dolphin popped up about 20 feet away, looked at me like I was an idiot (fair), and disappeared.

I was hooked.

From Weekend Warrior to Actual Guide

Fast forward six months, and I’d bought three more kayaks. My garage looked like a kayak graveyard. My wife had opinions about this. Strong opinions.

But here’s the thing, I couldn’t shut up about kayaking. I dragged friends, family, coworkers, the mailman (sorry, Jerry) out on the water. And every single person came back with the same look: pure, stupid joy.

That’s when Sarah walked into my life.

Enter Sarah (The Real Brains of This Operation)

Sarah showed up to one of my “hey let’s kayak” friend outings with her own kayak, her own paddle, and about ten times more knowledge than I had. Turns out she had a marine biology degree and had been guiding eco-tours up in the Panhandle.

After watching me fumble through an explanation of what a mangrove was (I think I called it a “swamp tree with identity issues”), she pulled me aside and said:

“You love this. I love this. We should actually do this for real.”

The Leap

So we did. Quit our soul-crushing desk jobs, pooled our money, bought some actually good kayaks, got our guide certifications, and started Gulf Coast Kayak Adventures.

Year one was rough. We had exactly seven customers. Three of them were Sarah’s mom (thanks, Linda!). We lived on ramen and optimism.

But then word started spreading. People told their friends. Those friends brought their families. Suddenly we had regulars. Repeat customers. People who’d come back three, four, five times.

Why We’re Still Doing This

Here’s the thing nobody tells you about running a kayak tour company: it’s not just about the kayaks.

It’s about the dad who finally got his teenage son to put down his phone for three hours. It’s about the retiree who thought her adventuring days were over, then spotted her first manatee and cried. It’s about the couple who got engaged on a sunset paddle (yes, we helped plan it, yes, she said yes).

We’re not getting rich doing this. But every single day, we get to watch people fall in love with the water the same way I did ten years ago with that janky Craigslist kayak.

Today

Now we’ve got a small team of guides who are just as obsessed with this place as we are. We’ve led thousands of tours. We know every channel, every sandbar, every spot where the dolphins like to hang out.

And yeah, I still have that original Craigslist kayak. It’s hanging in our shed, held together with duct tape and determination. Sarah keeps threatening to throw it away.

Not happening.

That kayak changed my life. And now we get to change other people’s lives too, one paddle stroke at a time.

Want to Be Part of the Story?

Come paddle with us. Bring your friends, bring your family, bring your sense of adventure. We’ll show you the Gulf Coast the way it’s meant to be seen: from the water, at kayak speed, with dolphins as your tour guides.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll catch the bug too. Just don’t blame us when you start browsing Craigslist for kayaks at 2 AM.

Book your adventure and become part of our story!


P.S. - That dolphin from my first paddle? Pretty sure I still see him sometimes. He definitely remembers me. Still thinks I’m an idiot.