Day 56, Jan 22 2010
I did not want to get stuck in some wild location in a wet and sandy tent so I had all the motivation I needed to get out of bed that morning. Listening to the scheduled marine forecast on my radio at 5:33am confirmed once again what had been predicted as long as a week ago. A southerly change at midday of around 15 knots, strengthening to 30 knots in the evening.
Castle Point offered a campground and I was determined to get there even if it meant slugging it out with a 15 knot southerly for two or three hours. My calculations suggested a paddle in excess of 50km. I was prepared to give whatever it took just as long as it was only 15 knots. 30 knots and I would have no choice but to seek shelter wherever that happened to be. The more distance I covered before the change, the less I would have to cover after it. I decided however to paddle within my limits because it would be important to have something in reserve when the battle began.
Firstly though I had to pack up, get the kayak down to the water’s edge, load it, and make sure everything was tied down i.e. hatches and helmets secured properly. The tent like the day was damp. It had rained overnight so this meant rolling up a wet tent. For the first time I didn’t care…. well I did, but it didn’t stop me. The race had begun.
By 7:05am I had begun. I told myself that I’d gained an extra hour by leaving before 8:00am, or 7km. A good start. My ETA at this rate would be between 2:00pm and 3:00pm, or three hours into a headwind. The small surf posed no problem. My confidence was such that I mounted the camera on the deck and filmed the launch.
Conditions beyond the break were ideal. Hardly a whisper of wind and calm glassy conditions on the sea’s surface. A good start or an omen of what was to come I wondered. I focused and searched for an early but easy rhythm.
I did not want to get stuck in some wild location in a wet and sandy tent so I had all the motivation I needed to get out of bed that morning. Listening to the scheduled marine forecast on my radio at 5:33am confirmed once again what had been predicted as long as a week ago. A southerly change at midday of around 15 knots, strengthening to 30 knots in the evening.
Castle Point offered a campground and I was determined to get there even if it meant slugging it out with a 15 knot southerly for two or three hours. My calculations suggested a paddle in excess of 50km. I was prepared to give whatever it took just as long as it was only 15 knots. 30 knots and I would have no choice but to seek shelter wherever that happened to be. The more distance I covered before the change, the less I would have to cover after it. I decided however to paddle within my limits because it would be important to have something in reserve when the battle began.
Firstly though I had to pack up, get the kayak down to the water’s edge, load it, and make sure everything was tied down i.e. hatches and helmets secured properly. The tent like the day was damp. It had rained overnight so this meant rolling up a wet tent. For the first time I didn’t care…. well I did, but it didn’t stop me. The race had begun.
By 7:05am I had begun. I told myself that I’d gained an extra hour by leaving before 8:00am, or 7km. A good start. My ETA at this rate would be between 2:00pm and 3:00pm, or three hours into a headwind. The small surf posed no problem. My confidence was such that I mounted the camera on the deck and filmed the launch.
Conditions beyond the break were ideal. Hardly a whisper of wind and calm glassy conditions on the sea’s surface. A good start or an omen of what was to come I wondered. I focused and searched for an early but easy rhythm.
Glassy!
At 8:30am a commercial cray boat drew up alongside and I had a conversation with the three inquisitive fishermen explaining what I was up to whilst seeking from them their own understanding of the weather forecast. Essentially the same as my own although strengthening to 35 and not 30 knots later in the afternoon. I bid farewell after declining their offer of a crayfish. Time was ticking. I briefly allowed myself an image of lobster on a large white plate, chilled white wine in a large clear glass laid out on crisp white linen. Soon, Gynes, soon.
I maintained a vigilance on the horizon, and the clouds above the ridges, for any sign of the pending change. It occurred to me that just as the change might arrive an hour or two later than predicted, it was just as likely to arrive early. I had to keep moving.
It was around 10:00am that I became conscious of the fact that I was a few kilometres off shore. This had not been a conscious decision. In fact my review of the coastline before leaving had led me to believe that I would be able to stay close to the shore for the whole trip and benefit from the scenery.
I amended my bearing by 45°, heading back towards the shore but interestingly battled to maintain it. I did however notice a lot of sheep dotted on the hills. Interestingly this was the first time I had come across the country’s iconic sheep in large numbers. Up until that point I’d suggest I’d seen more goats!
I maintained a vigilance on the horizon, and the clouds above the ridges, for any sign of the pending change. It occurred to me that just as the change might arrive an hour or two later than predicted, it was just as likely to arrive early. I had to keep moving.
It was around 10:00am that I became conscious of the fact that I was a few kilometres off shore. This had not been a conscious decision. In fact my review of the coastline before leaving had led me to believe that I would be able to stay close to the shore for the whole trip and benefit from the scenery.
I amended my bearing by 45°, heading back towards the shore but interestingly battled to maintain it. I did however notice a lot of sheep dotted on the hills. Interestingly this was the first time I had come across the country’s iconic sheep in large numbers. Up until that point I’d suggest I’d seen more goats!
I'd seen more goats than sheep until this point. Look carefully.
A short time later (I made a note at 10:25am), having just passed a large river mouth, I had an amazing encounter with a pod of dolphins. I first spotted them over my right shoulder coming up behind me. The still surface was like a blank canvas for them to leave their mark on and their graceful arching through the waters as they neared me was beautiful to watch in itself.
I switched on my camera in case the opportunity to capture them presented itself although they had disappeared for the moment. Then all of a sudden they were arching through the water first on one side of me and then the other. Then I had one each on either side providing me with my own escort.
I switched on my camera in case the opportunity to capture them presented itself although they had disappeared for the moment. Then all of a sudden they were arching through the water first on one side of me and then the other. Then I had one each on either side providing me with my own escort.
My escort.
I was watching them slice through the water directly under my kayak, clearly visible in the perfectly still waters. They would roll onto their backs so that they could watch the kayak (or me?) as they did so.
So close!
Then they began to pierce the water directly across my bow, so close that I thought they might playfully tip me with their flukes as they darted one after the other. Just when I was thinking that there might only be two or three of them, I counted five as they broke the surface together and then a bit later, I witnessed a single line of eight dolphins arching their backs in unison through the water. A parade drill could not offer the same synchronicity.
Then they began to pierce the water directly across my bow, so close that I thought they might playfully tip me with their flukes as they darted one after the other. Just when I was thinking that there might only be two or three of them, I counted five as they broke the surface together and then a bit later, I witnessed a single line of eight dolphins arching their backs in unison through the water. A parade drill could not offer the same synchronicity.
Two, three, four, more....
The spectacle lasted for a couple of minutes during which time I came as close as I ever have to these wonderful creatures. My fears that the camera may not have been on proved to be unfounded, and whilst only able to capture that which lay directly in front of the lens, the spectacle is clearly demonstrated. It was a very special moment.
The spectacle lasted for a couple of minutes during which time I came as close as I ever have to these wonderful creatures. My fears that the camera may not have been on proved to be unfounded, and whilst only able to capture that which lay directly in front of the lens, the spectacle is clearly demonstrated. It was a very special moment.
Special!
Note: The encounter, as captured on video, may be accessed by clicking on the soon to be added link above, simply named “A Special Moment”.
Naturally I’d picked up the pace when my friends joined me but had probably burnt up some energy. It was however, definitely worthwhile. Just before midday I realised that I had once again moved well offshore so I again made a conscious effort to head closer back towards the shore. Was it a result for aiming for the distant landmark that I presumed to be Castle Point, my destination. More than likely, I suspect.
I checked my GPS and it told me I had 18.4km to go. Three hours at the very most, but closer to two. I was getting close and with more than 8 hours of daylight left it would take 30 knots to stop me arriving at Castle Point.
Still the listless conditions persisted and I grew happier with each stroke of the paddle as I neared my goal. Still I noted no discernible difference on the horizon or the ocean’s surface that would forewarn me of the now overdue front.
I was soon inside the final curvature of the coastline with the houses of Castle Point clearly identifiable. It was 2:15pm when I noticed the first ripples on the water’s surface. It was not however even 5 knots and I had only a few kilometres to go. I could not contain my joy and a smile crept over my face.
Note: The encounter, as captured on video, may be accessed by clicking on the soon to be added link above, simply named “A Special Moment”.
Naturally I’d picked up the pace when my friends joined me but had probably burnt up some energy. It was however, definitely worthwhile. Just before midday I realised that I had once again moved well offshore so I again made a conscious effort to head closer back towards the shore. Was it a result for aiming for the distant landmark that I presumed to be Castle Point, my destination. More than likely, I suspect.
I checked my GPS and it told me I had 18.4km to go. Three hours at the very most, but closer to two. I was getting close and with more than 8 hours of daylight left it would take 30 knots to stop me arriving at Castle Point.
Still the listless conditions persisted and I grew happier with each stroke of the paddle as I neared my goal. Still I noted no discernible difference on the horizon or the ocean’s surface that would forewarn me of the now overdue front.
I was soon inside the final curvature of the coastline with the houses of Castle Point clearly identifiable. It was 2:15pm when I noticed the first ripples on the water’s surface. It was not however even 5 knots and I had only a few kilometres to go. I could not contain my joy and a smile crept over my face.
I couldn't keep the smile from my face.
I noticed the impressive headland and the lighthouse sitting atop. I could even see the campground clearly sitting beside the beach. Once again I went through the ritual of packing things away for safety. I decided to head slightly north of the campground itself, judging the waves to be slightly smaller there.
I noticed the impressive headland and the lighthouse sitting atop. I could even see the campground clearly sitting beside the beach. Once again I went through the ritual of packing things away for safety. I decided to head slightly north of the campground itself, judging the waves to be slightly smaller there.
The impressive headland.
On three occasions I edged in only to turn and make my out again as waves threatened. I finally decided that the time was right and made a dash for it. I surfed a small wave holding it straight for a good while before it began to slew sideways. Once it begins there is no stopping it, but on this occasion, as soon as the bow met the wave, it straightened itself out again! I wondered whether anyone had seen the manoeuvre because it would have look good.
On three occasions I edged in only to turn and make my out again as waves threatened. I finally decided that the time was right and made a dash for it. I surfed a small wave holding it straight for a good while before it began to slew sideways. Once it begins there is no stopping it, but on this occasion, as soon as the bow met the wave, it straightened itself out again! I wondered whether anyone had seen the manoeuvre because it would have look good.
The surf.
At 2:30pm I was pulling the kayak by its nose through the shallow water back towards the camping ground and not long after I was safely ensconced in a small but totally functional cabin. Within minutes of doing so I was patting myself on the back because the wind picked up and the heavens opened. That night there was flooding in the campground and down the road too. 150mm (6”) fell in less than twelve hours. Meanwhile I was hanging my wet tent out to dry in my cramped but dry and comfortable quarters.
It had been a truly memorable day with plenty of good fortune.
I’d paddled 51.87 kms in just under 7 ½ hours.
At 2:30pm I was pulling the kayak by its nose through the shallow water back towards the camping ground and not long after I was safely ensconced in a small but totally functional cabin. Within minutes of doing so I was patting myself on the back because the wind picked up and the heavens opened. That night there was flooding in the campground and down the road too. 150mm (6”) fell in less than twelve hours. Meanwhile I was hanging my wet tent out to dry in my cramped but dry and comfortable quarters.
It had been a truly memorable day with plenty of good fortune.
I’d paddled 51.87 kms in just under 7 ½ hours.
