sea kayak

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FUN in 3 stages

The river had risen after yesterday’s constant rain in the higher areas. The water was a deep green and swirling around fallen trees and steep banks. The colour of the water blended with the towering gums that lined the river, contrasting with the golden dry grasses.

I was back on a river and racing again, probably some 40 years since my last efforts of any distance on a river.

Berny (yellow kayak) and me “off into the unknown”

Swirling along, concentrating on my technique, my watch buzzed madly telling me my heart rate had been in zone 5 for too long. Damn, those Spring training sessions I missed, claiming it was too wet or windy, were coming back to haunt me and this was only half way through stage 1 of the 3 stage race. A 10km stage, then 17km and finishing with a 6km sprint, all on a swirling river lined with willow trees, their fingers touching the water ready to grab any paddler that came within reach.

Craft of various types entered

My training partner, Berny L , who was more diligent with his training regime, was slowly pulling away from me and there was nothing I could do about it. He was having his own fun trying to overtake one of the young paddlers in a Wild Water kayak. Every time he came close she sped up.

Berny still hanging on

So, my idea of entering a club race with the Bendigo Canoe Club seemed a good idea at the time but I was starting to see the folly of paddling a low volume Greenland style kayak on a fast flowing river. No rudder control meant it was lean steering into hundreds of twisting river bends, at the same time avoiding the swirling eddies.

There were a variety of craft entered. Doubles, singles, skis, wild water racers and of course a couple of sea kayaks.

Even the calmer sections were full of swirling currents

Trawool Bridge arrived marking the end of stage 1 and the beginning of stage 2. Berny stood at the finish line very happy with himself after a great effort in his first stage race, and helped me climb out for a quick rest before the starter called us for stage 2.

Stage  2 was more of the same river conditions, with the occasional rock bar to avoid, and Berny slowly pulling away from me. Again, he was trying to keep that same paddler in sight. I was just happy to keep my pace steady and my heart rate under control, whilst promising that I would do every training session before my next race attempt.

Eventually the river widened and I saw the finish line, telling myself that last place was still an achievement  in this kayak and with limited training.

Luckily there was a reasonable lunch break before the last 6km sprint stage; just long enough to convince myself to get back in the kayak and finish it off.

Getting ready for the last stage

I was quickly dropped after the mass start and was happy to keep my own maximum pace, counting off the kilometres on my watch.

The leaders sprinted away

 I cemented my last place again but was happy to have finished with little training and the wrong kayak. Oh, did I also mention my age, that’s a handicap I can’t seem to do anything about.

Thanks to all the organisers, volunteers and paddlers from Bendigo Canoe Club who made this FUN event happen.

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A Calm Sea

I woke before dawn to a special silence. No distant crashing of waves, no wind swaying the trees, no flapping of canvas; the silence of a calm sea.

The dawn came with a burning red horizon viewed through the trees and then as a red streak as I made it to the beach.

The early signs of a Calm Sea
A sign of Calm Seas
On the beach

Today we would be paddling on a calm sea. The last few days had been choppy, wind swept and wet but still a lot of fun as we launched in sloppy conditions and paddled into sheltered bays to investigate the rocky, boulder strewn coastline.

Yes, it’s windy on this coastline as you can see from the trees. The sandy spot around the tree is used as a resting place for the local kangaroos. You can see the tail drag marks in the sand.

Windswept
Launching in a fairly protected cove

Not only did we have to content with the less than ideal conditions, but this is also a major shipping channel for Port Lincoln where grain carriers carefully navigate the passage of islands that lead them to the Southern Ocean. A Bulk Carrier puts out a hell of a wake which adds to the wave chop and rebound from the islands.

Keep your distance

Not only where the launches interesting, but even the landings in a protected cove, at the end of the paddle, were a mad dash to surf to shore, jump out and drag the kayak up without getting too wet.

Charlie coming into protected waters
Greg showing his style to land without wet feet

We knew today would be different as we prepared the kayaks on the beach at Taylors Landing. Taylors is protected and generally the last mainland point before heading across Thorny Passage to Thistle Island. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a good enough weather window to be taking that route, but we would be exploring some stunning coastline.

Thistle Island is far in the distance and the closer island is Taylor Island.

Perfect conditions

Charlie had decided to make attach a Shark shield to his kayak this morning as we had just received the very sad news that a surfer had been taken by a Great White shark not far along the coast.

Loading up and checking the Shark Shield

We slid into the water and were away.

Clear calm water
How’s that for style

With Charlie keen to explore every small rock pool and Greg diligently following it was an excellent day of fun paddling.

We passed rugged granite cliffs and explored around lichen coloured boulders.

Greg was often around rocks
Charlie likes to poke his nose in
The Gulls

The next two photos show the clarity of the water and the reflection of the kayak. Charlie has “borrowed” my Greenland style paddle and is now an affectionado of the “carbon toothpick”.

Along the way we chatted to the local Sea Lions, caught a whiff of the local cormorant flock, watched small fish dart under the kayak as well as enjoying the stunning coastline.

Cormorant Rock
Drifting in close

When we got a little too close the Cormorants would waddle close to the rock edge, jump off and madly flap and run to get height. If you were in the wrong spot they would come straight at you, emptying their bowels, to lighten the load, as they struggled for altitude. Just don’t be in that wrong spot.

…and they’re off

The calm conditions gave us the chance to explore around the rock pools.

Charlie rocks
Ochre cliffs
Clear water
Relaxing

A White Bellied Sea Eagle kept a close eye on us for several kilometres, however, I think we were a little too big to be considered likely prey.

I’m watching you guys

It’s hard to do the scenery justice when taking photos from the kayak with a small Canon camera but here’s a few of the seascape. I have managed to drown another Nikon camera so it’s back to the “point and shoot” Canon until I decide on a new camera.

Our paddle ended on a sloping rock shelf in beautiful warming sunshine.

All that was left to do was take the 4wd track back to camp, take a walk on the beach, indulge in a cold beer, followed by a few glasses of red wine by the fire, which was diligently tended by Greg.

…and then the rain came.

A few days of great paddling.
Ian and Robyn, Greg and Charlie.

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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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Local Appreciation

There was a lot to Appreciate today. I was that lucky guy who was given a large dose of Covid for Xmas meaning I didn’t see Xmas or New Years eve festivities. I had been instructed to return to activity carefully and not stress my system. Yes of course I will do exactly that, although I neglected to mention that I had a short session in my playboat least week which resulted in a bit of regression.

It was a great day. I found a space in the beachside carpark, even though there was a school holidays (or school Horror Days) sailing class underway with a gaggle of parents milling about.

The weather was as forecast with the temperature around 30 degrees (C not F) and the sea calm. I launched quickly with the promise of a little over an hour on the local coastline. The first kilometre was great with breathing easy and heart rate under control. The second kilometre not so good as I could feel a distinct lack of fitness. I slowed somewhat and decided on a very gentle pace for the next 5 kilomteres so that I could enjoy the surroundings.

Cirrus clouds were sweeping across the sky, filtering the sun, the sea and horizon blending together.

The water was crystal clear as I nudged the kayak bow close to the rocks along the shore.

You can see the coastal walk which is steep in places. I have never counted the steps but there are a lot of them. Luckily the walk links coffee shops at Merino Rocks and Hallett Cove where one can recuperate for the return journey.

I had time to say hello to the Cormorants and Seagulls who had been resting on the shoreline after fishing for breakfast.

The professional fisherman were working hard casting for squid. This guy is almost a permanent fixture on the coast. If the wind is under 25 knots you will see him plying his trade.

I plodded along Appreciating the coastline and how lucky I was to have it as my local paddling spot. In future I will make a point of slowing down and taking in the view instead of focusing on my smart watch vibrating my time per kilometre. I was not the only one enjoying the morning, although some seemed a little hesitant to jump in.

My day of Local Appreciation left me feeling happy to be alive, however, my body was telling me it needed a nice coffee and a long nap. Luckily Robyn was able to steer me to a beachside coffee spot for a 3 shot latte and thick raisin toast. I would take care of the nap later.

Hope you have a great week.
Ian

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Bumper Boats

Bumper Boats, Dodgem Cars and the Ghost Train were my favourite rides as a kid. Whenever there was a show or fair in town I was there looking for excitement and spending my money on rides, hot dogs and fairy floss. As I got a little older I still rode the Bumper Boats but often got kicked off for “rough play” and my fascination with the Ghost Train drifted towards the scantily clad girls on the high trapeze.

Times change but somethings stay the same. Hot Dogs were out and Falafel Rolls are in, and the Ghost Train is no longer scary, but I still get that Bumper Boat feeling every time I hit the surf.

The wind had dropped and the offshore wave recorder showed some activity, although the glassy waves were not as large as we hoped, but still provided some Monday Bumper Boat action.

Steve (R) gives Ian a little BUMP
Waiting for the next wave set
Charles looks like he’s lining up for a BUMP
Steve (R) chases for another BUMP
Turtle takes a clean wave to stay out of trouble
Steve showing his style on a small wave
Charles looking for a victim perhaps
You can see Steve but can you spot someone else
Here comes Steve again
Ok. Who is giving way first ?
Steve capsizes and it looks like everyone heads in for a BUMP
Turtle staying out of trouble again
…and enjoying another clean wave
So we all headed shoreward to finish off a great morning paddle.

It was a beautiful morning with a nice mob of paddlers and bound to be repeated soon.

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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.