A brisk west wind whipped up choppy, rolling waves last Sunday at Mason Reef off Enders Island in Mystic, beyond which stretched whitecaps that extended across Fishers Island Sound.

“Where can we see the seals?” asked Elyse Landesberg, paddling a sea kayak next to me.

I cautiously released one hand from my paddle and pointed toward Fishers Island, nearly three miles southeast.

“Out there, Hungry Point,” I said, noting that the voyage would require two turbulent, open-water crossings — out and back, with the return trip more challenging due to a strengthening headwind and building ebb tide.

“Oh. So I guess we’re not going to see seals,” Elyse said.

“Not today,” I replied.

“You know, if Phil had been here …” she began.

Elyse didn’t have to finish the sentence: We would have found ourselves bouncing around en route to Fishers, knuckles white and jaws clenched, while Phil merrily yipped “Yee-hah!” atop every towering wave.

But Phil Warner was busy that day with a work project, so in his absence, the seven of us quickly agreed it would be more prudent on this blustery day in late January to aim for the protected Mystic River. In addition to Elyse, our group included Curt Andersen, Robin Francis, Kurt Hatem, Bill Hills and Bob Tenyck; we’ve all paddled together at one time or another for years.

Once we turned around and steered into calmer water, I experienced an eye-opening revelation: It’s actually possible to enjoy a stress-free paddle with friends simply by choosing a relatively placid course at a comfortable pace. What a concept!

Let me qualify: Phil is not only a genial kayaking companion, but also an expert paddler trained in rough-water rescue. And in fairness, he would not have pressured anyone to push beyond his or her comfort level.

It’s just that paddling with Phil often leads to adventure — as I should know, having capsized during a couple of our escapades.

With no such drama, our Mystic River jaunt seemed like a Sunday stroll. We chatted, paused for snacks and took in the sights: the monastery and seaside chapel at Enders Island, waterfront mansions at Masons Island, gulls swirling around Andrews Island, a tidal rip off Dodges Island …

Had we the time and ventured east into the sound, we could have hugged the shore past tiny Lyddy Island, Twin Brothers and Rock Island, before sweeping by Lords Point, Wamphassuc Point, Stonington Point, Sandy Point and Barn Island. Heading west would have taken us past Masons Point, Ram Island, Whaleback Rock, Whale Rock, Morgan Point, Mouse Island, Groton Long Point, Bluff Point …

And due south, beyond Gates Island, Ellis Reef and East Clump, Fishers Island lies in New York waters. After Fishers, Montauk Point on Long Island is the last land before the Turks and Caicos Islands in the tropics.

Lacking the time and inclination, we headed north a few miles toward downtown Mystic.

I again was reminded how lucky kayakers are in southeastern Connecticut to be surrounded by so much natural beauty and to have so many choices of paddling destinations. (Well, the Turks and Caicos might be a bit of a stretch).

Normally, we would have put in at Esker Point Beach in Noank, but that would have committed us to battling rough seas in the sound. A launch site between Jupiter and Avery points presented a similar dilemma. Other worthy alternatives — Barn Island in Stonington or Great Island in Old Lyme — would have given us the option of ducking into sheltered waters – Little Narragansett Bay to the east or the Connecticut River to the west, but both involved longer drives.

Robin suggested a closer and calmer option: Williams Park Beach behind the Mystic YMCA off Masons Island Road.

Surfing a few modest waves off Enders Island quickened our pulses slightly, as did mild chop and a moderately tricky current beneath the Masons Island Road causeway. A few waves also kicked up around Murphy Point, but otherwise, tranquility prevailed.

I think even Phil would have enjoyed himself.