kayak adelaide

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Time and Tide

The phrase “Time and Tide wait for no man”, or more correctly man or women, is a common phrase  but what does it really mean. The common conception is that it’s a call to action, to do it now, with urgency.

That phrase came to mind prompting action stations as my kayak plunged into the short sharp wave in front at exactly the same time as another hit me beam on and the one behind broke on my rear deck. Oh what fun, buried up to my armpits in a low volume skeg kayak, in a following sea, in 3 metres of water driven by wind gusting over 20 knots.

But back to the beginning. I had been invited to join 2 distinguished gentleman paddlers on a 20+km sea kayak paddle in the northern reaches of Spencer Gulf where we would visit Cockle Spit. Aptly named because it’s a bar that is formed of cockle shells and is dry at lower tides. Steve and Greg are locals to this area.

We arrived earlier so that we could ride the nearby mountain bike tracks at Willowie forest, with Steve as our guide. Riding in 36 degree heat (C not F) is certainly taxing but fun. Settled in the beachside park we watched the sunset and Robyn chased a few photo opportunities.

The Jetty is an old wooden affair that was around 1.5km in length
Sunset on the high tide
The fading sunset
There are old storage sheds and railway lines from earlier days that have been restored

Back to the present. The day had started calm, with the knowledge of increasing wind, as we left the Port Pirie harbour making our way past large ships docked in the channel.

We followed the channel markers as they weaved their way into open water, leaving the Mangrove trees behind.

The last mangrove tree in the channel
The wind gently rising with more to come

The wind increased, as predicted, making for a slightly bumpy, but not unpleasant, 16km paddle until we had Cockle Spit in sight. Actually, you can’t see the Spit until your almost on it but you can use line of sight from various markers to navigate. Steve led Greg and myself to the calm inside of the Spit for a well earned break.

The wind increased again, adding another layer of complexity to the paddle. Steve and Greg decided to push the boundaries of their Mirage kayaks by hoisting their kayak sails. That put my ego under serious pressure, so I engaged warp drive to keep up. Luckily, they soon decided that sailing was a little precarious in these conditions and reverted to paddle power alone.

We made reasonable headway considering the conditions and soon had the Port Germein jetty in sight. I noticed a change in water color at the end of the jetty which is 1.2 km long. Then I realised why Steve had insisted we all had a kayak trolley with us. The tide goes out over 1.5 km in the bay and that sand colored water was indeed sand. So when we ran out of water we simply hooked up the trolley and walked making it more of a biathlon than simple paddle. Steve insisted that we should have made it a triathlon by all going for a swim but Greg and I declined.

Back on dry land with a long drag ahead. You can see the choppy conditions in the distance.
The happy bunch

Cockle Spit had previously had a tide clock erected in the channel telling ship captains what the tide was at the time. Ships would enter the harbor and anchor whilst being loaded with wheat and other produce by smaller vessels called Lighters.

The Tide Clock has been salvaged and is now housed at the beginning of the jetty as a reminder of an era when navigation was a tricky affair.

The Jetty previously had a lighthouse at the end of the jetty and that has also been restored and placed on land.

Complete with sculptures the Jetty precinct is a nice place to wander, especially the nearby coffee shop.

An interesting paddle in an unusual location with a fair bit of wind and wave thrown in for good measure. We learned later that winds had been strong near our home in Adelaide resulting in downed trees and power lines.

Robyn and I are heading into the Southern Flinders Ranges for gravel road and mtb track riding and some serious Bakery visiting. Time and Tide wait for no man or women. Do it now !

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A small window

I never saw Spring. Maybe it had more pressing engagements elsewhere. None of those lovely Spring days with the sun shining and the temperature starting to show signs of what’s to come. No watching warm red sunsets with a favourite beverage. No sunburnt nose from forgotten sunscreen. No need to check your kayak for spiders lurking under the seat. No need to have a hat for every occasion.

None of that.
We had water. Not the type you paddle on, but the type that comes in bucket loads, drenching everything and everyone. The type that causes massive flooding river systems, inundates whole towns and livelihoods. With the rain comes the wind; howling, screaming, terrorising wind that wipes out all in it’s path.

Gum trees snapped at the trunk
The road was passable as the level dropped

Luck was on our side as we sheltered from flooding rains in the Australian “outback”. We reached a bitumen road that headed south towards home, our path flooded in many places. I had the kayak on the car roof but fortunately the creek systems fell just as quickly as they rose.

Summer was closing fast and finally a small Spring weather window opened. Not enough time to get in any substantial sea kayaking journeys but long enough to fit in a little surf play.

Summer will come, the waves will be clean and uncrowded, the sea kayaking perfect with pods of dolphins, the water crystal clear for snorkeling and the mountain bike tracks dry, running smooth and fast.

Dreams are free. In reality I take every FUN I wave I can and here’s a few I took today before the wind reappeared

Steve gets last minute instructions from Philip’s labrador.
You have to earn your wave FUN
Steve gets a small FUN wave
This could get a bit crowded
Fast and Clean

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Silent Night

Silent night, holy night!
All is calm, all is bright.

It was almost Silent as we left the growl of the metropolis behind. The wind was a calming whisper as we glided into the darkness. The sound of water gently slapping the kayak and the occasional splash of the paddle were all the sounds we wanted to hear.

Leaving the rest behind

It was Calm. The wind stilled and the ocean surface took on a mirrored finish.

All behind us was Bright. We had left behind the lights of population soon after launching. It was paddling into the darkness with no moon in sight.

Occasionally the wind would surprise us with a cooling gust, making us increase our paddling tempo, then drop away just as fast as it came.

With those eyes he makes a great Vampire

Time and distance fade away as you focus on other things; the rhythm of the paddle, the rocking of the kayak, the joy of being away from the heat and noise of “the others”.

All good things must come to and end and we returned to reality heading inshore, where we greeted the last night walkers on the jetty, saw the Xmas lights still glowing and heard the muted sounds of the late night party goers.

We glided along, not knowing that we were on top of reefs and rocky sections until the camera flash showed us the shallows. Luckily no waves across the headlands tonight.

Hmm…that is shallow
The last night walkers
Xmas lights still burning

We had heard splashes on the water but saw nothing. Probably just sea birds settling for the night. We hoped to hear the puffing of the local dolphin pod but they were elsewhere. We did not want to see or hear (of feel) Mr Chompy who had been seen patrolling the reef during the day. ( Mr Chompy was a guest blogger here some time ago- follow the link to see his blog).

I suspect some of you have noted that I missed out the Holy. That’s because I had originally planned to paddle Xmas eve, however, the wind played havoc with those plans.

Happy New Year. Let’s put 2021 behind us.

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Winds and Windmills

Many borders are closed and COVID is loose in several states across Australia so our only safe holiday choice was to stay in South Australia. Our first adventure was to clock up some mountain bike kilometres in the north Flinders Ranges with a couple of friends.

The weather was warm, the wind less than friendly but we still managed to travel loops on the Mawson Trail as well as other less travelled routes. Add in a hot day walking in the Aroona Valley, visiting the Blinman Hotel “the pub in the scrub” and we had a week of fun sorted.

The winds were still unfriendly when we left the North Flinders area and headed to the edge of the Nullabor plain to visit the iconic surf break of Cactus Beach. The surf was blown out by the southerly wind with no surfers out there today or for the next few days.

Blown out at Cactus

Where there’s Wind there’s Windmills. The town of Penong is several kilometres inland from the ocean but still has its’ share of wind and windmills. There is even a windmill museum with a number of restored windmills in action. These days they are for show as solar powered pumps have taken over the pumping duties.

My duty was that of photographers assistant, carrying gear and generally keeping out the way. We were in luck as in the late afternoon the wind abated and the giant Comet 35 windmill slowly came to a halt. The local Penong football team was in the grand final next weekend and was having their last training session under full lights at the nearby oval. The field of windmills slowly rotated to face the oval and the lights reflected off their blades.

Long exposure at night
Sunset on the massive Comet 35

Our time was running short so we headed back home to Adelaide with the surf forecast there showing signs of good swells. Sadly the swell had eased the day of our arrival and we were greeted by a less than impressive surf break. With the need to get wet I paddled out with Steve to grab what fun we could.

Here’s a 1 minute clip of fun. Thanks for visiting.

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Catch up with friends

The sun broke through the early morning mist revealing a beautiful blue sky. The sun on my back feels great as I paddle northwards to catch up with some friends on the water. I’m almost tempted to stow away my woollen beanie and neoprene gloves. Hell, the temperature must have soared to at least 4°C.

COVID restrictions have been further eased in South Australia and it was great to catch up with a few old friends. The 45 minute paddle to the meetup place was perfect, with a light wind chop making the bow rise and fall on the small troughs. I was feeling great being out on the water on such a morning and the beauty of the coastline was an added bonus.

The sun reaches over the cliffs and lights up the rock pillars

I approached a rocky headland expecting to see my friends waiting but the horizon was empty. Still no sign of them as I drifted towards the rocks. Then they all jumped out in front of me. SURPRISE !!!!.. They swam around my kayak with big grins on their faces, duck diving and splashing about in the cold clear water.

It’s so good to be back on the water and with friends it’s so much better. After a playful catchup it was off along the coast again. They shouted a reminder, “bring pizza next time; we’re getting sick of sushi”.

The morning sun was lighting up the ocean capturing fellow paddler Steve in its rays.

Sparkling rays as the sun clears the cliffs

We paddled in close to some of the reefs that were exposed at the low tide and checked out the rocky coastline.

Another great morning and happy to be alive.

CS Canoe MySun kayak. My favourite Italian ride

Stay Safe. Social distance. Wash your hands :)-

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Haystacks…..not just a load of hay

On our wanderings across the western coastline of South Australia we have come across lots of harvesting at this time of year. Not only are there long road trains carting grain to the silos but also lots of hay being stacked into large haystacks.

These days it’s more likely to see hay in large “rounds” stacked together rather than the traditional haystacks but we have found a couple of unusual varieties as well.

Rounds of hay are more the norm these days

Square bales stacked high

It doesn’t have to be a stack of hay bales to be called a Haystack. On the Eyre Peninsula we found “Murphy’s Haystacks which may look like an old fashioned Haystack but are rock formations.

Murphy’s haystacks

The kayak paddler comes across many and varied landscapes including islands. This one is called Haystack Island.

Haystack Island off the coast of Yorke Peninsula. On a day with glassy swells.

Haystack Island with a change of weather

It might not look like a Haystack from a distance but when your up close it does take on the colours and shape of hay.

Colours change as the light changes

It seems Australians have an imagination for names but for me the best Haystack is my visits to Haystack Island.