Fast and Clean

I started my paddling career watching films of heroic paddling exploits on unknown white water rivers. In those days  the term “16mm film” was something everyone understood and many paddlers had at least an 8mm camera. They gave way to VHS tapes and DVD’s over the years and now there is an avalanche of kayaking footage on social media.

“Fast and Clean” was one of the early films available documenting the 1979 Whitewater World Titles and a great showcase for the paddlers, styles and equipment of the day. Worth a look even today if only for the fashions both on and off the water. See the link at bottom of page and find a nice comfortable chair to watch this 36 minute masterpiece. Maybe cast it to your smart TV for best viewing. There’s also a Trivia Quiz for viewers. You might also look up Director Russ Nichols to see his other works from that era.

It was an inspiration watching slalom paddlers in action and it spurred me on to paddle a couple of novice slalom competitions in Victoria, which was a mere 1600km round trip on a weekend. I think the long drive and the fact that I wasn’t any good, led me to look further afield in the kayaking realm to get my kicks. It’s probably why I started kayak surfing along our local coast and have spent much of my life sea kayaking and dabbling in other disciplines.

“Fast and Clean” it might have been then but nearly 40 years later it sort of “Slow and Grotty”. We still love the surf and take any opportunity to get out there in just about anything that floats.

So on the first day of Winter we found a rather Grotty looking wave and managed lots of slow rides. Any excuse to get out there and have some fun.

It wasn’t that big at times but Steve made the most of any wave

Steve used the small waves to find his limits

Steve found his limits a number of times. This time trying to perfect his back loop…Failed

Ian is enjoying himself or is he madly waving because he just saw a shark ?

Things happen when old paddlers get together in the surf. They play “Roller Surf”, gaining points if you can make the other paddler roll. The game begins when all are on the water and ends with the first serious injury or new drowning experience. It keeps everyone on their toes and looking over their shoulder !!

Ian scores a point on Steve

Michael reckons he’s on a winner with possible double points

Michael takes a small wave

Finds the bow disappearing

Then does a disappearing act of his own

Rodney “its my Birthday” Biggs slides another one right

Gets in a bit of a pickle

Inspects the bottom for a while

And then rolls back up with just enough breath left to blow out the candles on his Birthday cake

Well that was our first day of Winter. Hope you enjoyed yours as much.

And here’s  Fast and Clean. Thanks to Roy Farrance of Canoes Plus in Victoria who found the film for me. Roy was also the coach and organiser of those Novice Slalom events I attended, which just proves there are people older than me. Roy never slows up and is currently at the 2018 ICF Canoe Wildwater World Championships Muotathal Switzerland along with competitor Dita Pahl. Dita coaches and competes for the Canoe Plus Racing Team and is representing Australia. GO DITA 🙂

And our Trivia Quiz questions.

  1. Describe Australian Team special marching style
  2. What happened to the Australian C1 paddler
  3. Who was the now famous Kayak Educator paddling C1
  4. What river was the USA trials held on
  5. Name a K1 model being paddled
  6. Name a C1 model being paddled
  7. Name 3 paddle manufacturers you saw

Cheers and have a great Winter (or Summer if your in the other half of the world)…..Ian Pope

Anzac Day. A day to remember.

Anzac Day is a national day of remembrance in Australia and New Zealand that broadly commemorates all Australians and New Zealanders “who served and died in all wars, conflicts, and peacekeeping …
Having paddled with a number of veterans and those currently serving in recent years, I  have a great respect for the sacrifices that have been made in the past.
However, as this next piece shows, it was not always a day that I remembered.

“I know that voice”
It was 4 am on a Sunday morning and I could hardly hear the alarm for the beating of the rain on our little cottages’ roof. The wind howled through the trees outside as I clobbered the alarm and fell back into a half sleep.

The last couple of weeks had been poor weather with weak cold fronts constantly passing through South Australia bringing drizzly cool days, and today was no exception with showers expected for most of the day.

I realised that Gavin and Michael would be here soon and contemplated just a few more minutes in bed. I thought they know that I am always late, but then Gavin is always early so I slowly dragged myself from the warm bed.

The mountain of gear stacked neatly in the hallway needed only the last minute additions of fully charged camera batteries and such like, which I dutifully attended to, crossing off each item off my list. All ready to go, just as I heard Gavin’s car pull up out the front. Gavin bowled in, looking just like someone who is always awake before five, which of course he is, followed by Michael who hasn’t seen this time of darkness since our last trip.

The gear was loaded and I found that Michael has claimed the backseat for the trip and I had the duty of riding in the front with Gavin, ensuring that he was awake during the drive. How anyone can stay awake listening to ABC Radio at that time of the morning is beyond me, but duty called.

Sombre music, then marching bands: hell what was this stuff he was listening to? We passed along the foggy highway out of Adelaide to the tunes of the 127 th District marching band or some such mob, thinking that I wouldn’t be able to take eight hours of this.

Passing through Tailem Bend I realised what was happening. It was Anzac Day.

There was a group of 200 or so people gathered at the park, with many spilling onto the roadway, forcing us to crawl past. I remembered back to my only time of being at an Anzac Day dawn service, when I must have been about 10 years old. I vividly remember the service being held in a local park in Parkside where I grew up, but can’t remember who I went with, or what happened afterwards. Just the short service and the music.

Sunday morning on ABC radio is Macca in the morning. I listened to the introductions and then vagued out while staring at the unchanging landscape of the mallee country. Macca had people ringing in to recount their views and memories of Anzac day.

As I rolled along in the front seat, listening to Michael’s snoring in the back I heard a woman’s voice saying that she had just come from a dawn service held with her husband and only one other person. It was a Tasmanian accent, quite distinctive but pleasant to listen to. Sounded in her late 40s or thereabouts, well spoken and confident. I didn’t hear where she was from, assumed Tasmania, but she was talking about their dawn service held on the top of a hill at the site where four RAAF flyers had died in a crash near the end of the war. They had been on a training run or similar and had engine problems resulting in the crash. The bodies had been buried elsewhere but there was still the scattered remains of plane where a small memorial was erected. She spoke of the isolated area that they from, describing the wallabies on the hill and sea views from her kitchen window. Sounded like a great place to me…

Then off we headed. Victoria to Tasmania by sea kayak.

Gavin, Michael and I stood at the base of the cliff, on the tiny windswept beach, looking up at the zig zag track that leads to the lighthouse keeper’s cottage. We had had a long hard day, crossing from Hogan Island to Deal Island, with lightning greeting us just before our dawn departure. The wind was OK before dawn but talking by phone to the duty forecaster in Tasmania I knew that we had only a few hours to get off the island or be there for some time.

The winds had risen later in the morning as we sailed and paddled our way to Deal Island in the Kent Group. Rising wind and rising seas had made for a rough ride, with worse on the way. We paddled strongly knowing that the sanctuary was only a couple of hours away, however the front grew closer with steadily increasing force. Rising seas and wind from the rear quarter made for interesting times. We eventually made shelter in the lee of Erith Island with a 40kn headwind screaming towards us as the main front hit.
The paddle along the Murray Passage was demanding with the wind coming head on between the Islands, as Michael powered past us determined to land first. Maybe he was just glad to be near a safe haven after having suffered two capsizes whilst sailing that morning, or maybe the lure of a cup of tea and Mars bars had scrambled his brain. He is a legend in the world of chocolate bars, carrying large packets of Mars Bars and the like when we go paddling. Still, you can’t complain when he insists on sharing them out after paddling, but I still think that anyone who calls them carrots is still a little unusual.

We set off fully equipped for the climb up the Deal Island path with extra supplies of Mars Bars and Snickers stuffed in our pockets. Half way up the path we paused briefly to admire the view and call in to our families. The surprise of the caretaker was evident when we strolled up to the cottage, certainly not expecting paddlers in this weather, but as always we were invited in for tea and scones.

It was unsafe to proceed to the campsite and hut on Erith Island so we were able to bed down in the spare cottage on Deal. We had the opportunity of a hot shower and a real bed and that was not to be knocked back. A quick shower and change of clothes and up to the caretaker’s for high tea.

We entered the cosy warm cottage and met our hosts Dallas and Shirley. They are caretakers on the island for three months at a time, with this being their second time here.

Bloody hell, I know that voice!, the soft but distinct  accent coming from the kitchen sounded familiar, but I didn’t recognise the face. Shirley plied us with scones with jam and cream and tea, while I thought about where I knew her from.

When talking to Dallas about the awful weather heading our way it came to me. Have you been on the radio lately? “Yes, twice on the ABC talking about Deal Island”. Did you have an Anzac dawn service here? “Yes just three of us, up near where the plane crash site”. It was her, the voice on the radio that cold rainy Anzac morning. Strange things seem to happen when you go paddling.

We were marooned on Deal Island for eight days waiting for the weather to moderate. The winds stayed at around 60 kn for most of that time with huge seas battering the island group. We did wallaby musters, helped other blow-ins and had many other adventures in those eight days and many more on that 19 day crossing of Bass Strait.

Deal Island looking towards Erith and Dover Islands

Deal Island looking towards Erith and Dover Islands

Now every Anzac Day not only do I remember those who fought in our wars but I think of that lonely crash site on that lonely little island.
Ian Pope

6 Gold and 2 Silver for Sir Rodney

Sir Rodney Hubert Biggs

 

Yes that’s right 6 Gold and 2 Silver medals to Sir Rodney.

Yes, Sir Rodney our sometimes guest paddler and photographer. Yep, that’s him; the hyperactive (some say disorganised) one who has a definite preference for Clare Valley Shiraz, has done it again by collecting  6 gold and 2 silver medals in the Australian Masters Games kayaking and swimming events.

 

So not only was he selected as flag bearer for the opening ceremony but he went on to bag a few medals. He even scored a write up in the Australian media so check it out here.

Sir Rodney at the Opening Ceremony

Sir Rodney at the Opening Ceremony

Sir Rodney as the Flag Bearer for the opening ceremony

Sir Rodney as the Flag Bearer for the opening ceremony

His Gold Medal effort in the Kayak Marathon was truly amazing on a storm swept course that saw 25 of the 50 starters capsize or swamp during the event. He finished in a great time beating all in his age group as well as many younger than himself.  Next day he competed in the Sprint Kayak events taking more gold medals.

He then moved to the Swimming Venue and picked up silver medals in the pool.

Not content with that he dropped into the Indoor Rowing Competition just to stretch the arms and legs a little more.

It seems now we will have to change his PaddlingSouth name to Sir Everywhere Rodney after that marathon effort.

Of course the rest of the group claim some credit for teaching him how to paddle in rough water and increasing his swimming speed by having him practice rescues in our “sharky”  waters. Well done Sir Rodney.

 

 

Winter Solstice paddle and other madness

Well the worst is over, the shortest day has come and gone and we look forward to longer warmer days in South Australian waters. I dream of summer when I wont have to be donning wetsuit, thermal and heavyweight paddling jacket just to go out for a quick splash around; it will be back to board shorts and sun screen. Well maybe in another 3 months or so, right now its still “penguin” weather in Adelaide with the thermometer reading a balmy 12 degrees and the house full of drying bushwalking, cycling and kayaking gear.

Managed to dodge most of the rain and storms long enough to get on the water for a couple of hours with Mal and Gavin to celebrate the passing of the Winter Solstice. We bobbed along the local Adelaide coastline in the wind-driven chop. Luckily we were accompanied by a couple of dolphins for most of the way which certainly made the paddle enjoyable. It’s amazing how the company of these guys gliding along just off your bow makes your hands feel warm again and you forget about the occasional showers.

Speaking of other madness have a look at Dave and Benno’s latest extreme paddle;  New Zealand to Australia the long way. These guys are amazing and well worth paddling hero status.

Check out their Facebook site with this link.

OUT FOR A SOLSTICE SPLASH

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Mal Blewett joins the Bass Strait club

Mal landed today at Little Musselroe Bay Tasmania after crossing Bass Strait in a single Nimbus Telkwa kayak and he did it solo. He had fun with the changing weather, fought with pesky animals (rattus rattus – aka black rat ) trying to steal his food, got dumped in large seas smashing his compass and damaging the kayak, saw lots of aquatic and bird life and camped at places few people will ever visit. All that in just 13 days.
Congratulations from everyone at Paddling South.

It took 13 days to paddle there, but longer to get back. Mal cant get back on the Spirit of Tasmania Ferry until early April.

His report on landing today.
 Hi All, well that’s it; the big crossing is done. Arrived on Tasmania’s shore today around 4.30pm(EST), to be greeted by my wife Annie, Mal Hamilton & his daughter Donna. The crossing of Banks Strait from Rebecca Cove on Clarke Island to Little Mussleroe Bay on Tassie, went well with the strong currents and 4mtr swell muddled in with a 2mtr constant wind wave and 20knots of wind, just to keep me on my toes. My little make shift compass spent most of the day pointing in the wrong direction as it has done since having my good Silva compass smashed at the beginning of the expedition. I shall be writing a very stern letter of complaint to Garmin since my good GPS the Garmin 78sc decided to die completely as I was about a mile out to sea on the start of the long ocean crossings many days ago. No compass and a stuffed GPS makes for a lot of guess work. I did carry my spare Garmin 78s which constantly shuts down. Oh what fun!!! Many thanks to all that have given me help and assistance along the way. I will create a list and add it to this web posting when I get settled back to civilization. Today Bass Strait tomorrow the world!!!!

Ashore on Tasmania