USK : November 2000

Falmouth: Hardy's Recce #1

France April 2000

More Refreshing Than Watford Gap

Avon April 2000

Sampling the Paddling Down Under

Stour Descent December 1999

Fresh outbreak of sheep molesting reported in Powys

RCC’s annual trip to Perth-y-Pia in the Brecon Beacons was its usual jolly affair at the beginning of November. Attendance was down a bit on previous years, comprising Barry, Bev, Paul, Jake and Lee Deakin, Ben Laker, Graham Deacon, Elliott Gully, Colin Bowes, Paul and Jill Toynton, Nick Leatherdale and Dave Ratford; Dave’s brother Dick joined us for Saturday’s paddle.

Friday night

The River Usk sounded huge when Ben and Nick peered myopically into the dark from the bridge at Crickhowell on Friday night. They joyfully informed the assembled throng in the Red Lion at Llanbedr (where the landlord had kindly reserved us seats for the night) of this fact, filling everyone with dread thoughts of tree hazards, floating livestock and all-engulfing monster stoppers. Still, we all got a good night’s sleep, mainly because a group of walkers had ensconced themselves in the Farmhouse (into which we were booked) and didn’t want to move, so we had the Barn (into which they were booked), which is a more comfortable and up-market venue. It’s also twice the price, but thankfully we didn’t have to pay the difference!

Saturday morning

Cooking breakfast was our first challenge. Not because of any lack of catering skills on our part (editor’s note: actually, the jury’s still out on that one), but because the person who normally cooks breakfast for people staying in the Barn dutifully arrived and took all the cooking implements and utensils over to the Farmhouse, so that she could minister to the walkers’ every need. When push comes to shove, it’s amazing what you can do without oven gloves.

Over breakfast we agreed that we probably wouldn’t be paddling at all if the river was anywhere near as high as it had sounded, so we were somewhat amazed to find the water levels much the same as usual. According to the farmer who very kindly lets us park in his farmyard at the end-of-trip point, the Usk usually rises in about four hours and goes down again in a similar amount of time. This makes it much like the river Dart, which is a bit surprising, considering that the entire area’s limestone rather than granite.

We were on the water at Sennybridge in record time, aided by the mud slide that used to be the river bank. Most features were playable, though the trip was over slightly sooner than usual, presumably because the water was running at a reasonable rate. The lunchtime stop at one of the larger waterfalls on the trip provided entertainment in the form of Paul T grappling with an upside-down sheep in a field, for what seemed like an indecently long time. Upon return, he assured the more sceptical among us that it was essential to stop the animal running off immediately it had been righted, but from our viewpoint it looked decidedly suspicious!

Paul paid for his fun by cooking us all a dinner. And very good it was too, as everyone except Dave will testify. Arriving back 10 minutes late from visiting a friend in the area, Dave was aghast to discover that his portion had been wolfed down by people he had - up until that point - considered to be his friends.

Fireworks in Llanbedr

Immediately after the meal (or in Dave’s case, cheese on toast) some members went off to a firework party in Llanbedr, while the rest repaired straight to the pub. The firework party contingent were scared into joining the pub group an hour or so later when a firework shot into the crowd (no injuries), and reported a good display, marred only by crap bonfire lighting skills.

Later that evening there were fireworks in the pub as well. After several pints of the local bitter, Paul and Graham decided to put the world to rights. Each obviously keen to see the other’s point of view, they spent a happy if somewhat noisy time discussing the finer points of world trade and the price versus cost issues of everything from Welsh lamb to carburettors. Even the landlord felt obliged to add his weight to one of the arguments, though it was far from clear to spectators which side he was supporting. We finally beat a hasty retreat back to the barn, leaving Paul and Graham to the mercy of the rest of the pub’s clientele; they must have made it back sometime that night, because they were both at breakfast the following morning, and still talking to each other.

Sunday

Once again, we were on the river in excellent time – RCC must have turned over a new leaf. The car shuttle between Crickhowell and Llansantffraed, near Talybont-on-Usk, went very smoothly, thanks to Dave’s kind offer to ferry people even though he wasn’t paddling. The only complaint came from Jill, who wanted to know what the awful smell was. This turned out to be emanating from her father, who had donned his wet gear, ready for another day’s sheep molesting.

The water level seemed to be a bit up on the previous day, which was borne out when we reached Mill Falls and discovered it was fairly fast-flowing, with a large stopper river right; most of us wimped out and portaged, though Barry, Ben, Elliott and Paul all took it in their stride.

The rapids on the approach to Llangynidr bridge were even more fun than usual, and I don’t think we had any swimmers. However, since Elliott and I always seem to have to forgo playing on these rapids in order to rescue people, I was determined to be at the head of the pack this time around, and may consequently simply have been ignoring any chaos behind me. We stopped for a brief lunch break at Llangynidr, but by now the weather was really beginning to close in, so we were soon back on the water. Graham decided to call it a day, and walked on down to Crickhowell (a distance of some four or five miles) to retrieve his car.

With hindsight, I think Graham may have made the right choice. There are a couple of good waterfalls and some more superb rapids after Llangynidr (I remember the smiles on the faces of people who did this part of the trip last year), but the final stretch into Crickhowell is flat and boring. Barry assures me it’s only the last third of a mile that’s like this, but I think he might have slipped a decimal point. Certainly on this occasion it seemed like hard work, mainly due to heavy rain driven horizontally by a very high wind.

The trip finished in some disarray, because of the rain. Ben and I ended up far wetter in our ‘dry’ clothes than we had been at any time on the trip, and sat in puddles of water that had formed on the car seats. Most members of the party retrieved their cars from the lay-by and got changed in the pub car park, which made farewells difficult. Judging by reports from people later in the week, we all had a pretty wild and wet journey home, with many encountering floods on the way or when they arrived. But then, it’s all par for the course if you paddle in South Wales in November.

Nick

Set off Tuesday for a couple of day’s r&r on the Carrick Roads at Falmouth, not knowing where we were going to stay, we just headed off hoping.

'Hoping for what' you ask yourself, well, we were hoping for good weather, also a campsite that would preferably be on, or near, the waters edge. Alas we could not find either, but we did find a campsite about 1 mile from the water, called Tregunwith farm.

An excellent site for the club to use - a flat field with running water and nothing else, open fires are allowed, firewood can be obtained in advance from the owners (who incidentally are very nice and go by the names of Robert & Maggie). Camp fees are a nominal £2.50 per night per tent that even includes the Taj Ma Hal, no discrimination for size. There is a pub about half an hours walk away but, be warned, it has a killer of a hill to walk up on the way home, (just what you need to wear off the drink that you just consumed). There is also another place to frequent, perhaps one mile from the campsite, that we found does good bar food at a reasonable price.

Wednesday morning saw an early start for a couple of lively campers. Breakfast done and dusted, off we went to our first put in "Restronguet weir" a cute little beach privately owned but would get a bit congested if more than a couple of cars turned up at once.

Turning left, away from the beach, we paddled up Restronguet creek and went as far as we could on the level of tide available. We managed to get as far as Devoran where there is (yes you’ve guessed it) a pub - no we did not go in as it was too early in the morning and even we aren’t that bad. Turning back the way we came a pleasant but unexciting creek at least for us, you need the twitcher’s guide or at the very least the bird watchers in the club as there were many different varieties of these.

Onwards and upwards we travelled, crossing the Carrick Roads to Turnaware point where we found people camping. Taking a moment to have a quick scout around and a chat, we were told the Americans camped there during the war before the D.Day landings. How many camped there I’d like to know as I only thought you would get about ten smallish tents pitched on this spot - still a very nice place to have a beach Bar-B-Q. Pushing on we paddled a little further before the chappie in the back started complaining of hunger pains and of being very thirsty so, alas, we pulled in at a very quaint place called the Smugglers cottage which offered the obligatory Cornish pasty amongst other foodstuffs and! Ale!

Having satisfied dietary needs our quest for further knowledge of the river continued, there were many large ships and tankers moored in the estuary and listening to passing tour boats we heard that they were waiting to be scrapped and some have been waiting for as long as two and half years, still a sad sight to see, huge rusting ships in the middle of what is otherwise a beautiful place.

The next place of interest was Malpas, the river divided in two here and we decided to investigate the left as it was the route to Truro but we didn’t get too much further for two reasons the first being we were running out of water the tide having turned about two and quarter hrs previous. At this point I’ll just mention that it was not difficult to paddle against the tide and that we found it quite easy going. The second reason for turning around was that we came across a sewerage works and by this time (3.35pm) having paddled in one direction all day it would be a good idea if we wanted to get back before dark.

Now having said that it was not hard paddling against the tide, (which it wasn’t) it was however very easy with the tide and we made good time on the homeward journey. On the way back we stopped off at Loe beach for a recce` (this would be an ideal place for a putting in place for many, it includes a car park & slipway all for a £1 a day). Leaving Loe beach it was just a short paddle across to Restroguet weir, (note when referring to Restronguet weir it is in fact only a beach, although somewhere I expect there is a weir).

On arrival back at camp a meal fit for a king was prepared by non other than the king’s servant and lady in waiting princess Trishavere, (what she’s waiting for is as much a mystery to me as it is to you), after which we went for a walk to wear off  the meal, the walk takes you passed the Pandora Inn (just a quickie) and then a brisk walk home 1/2hr up hill.

Thursday - we woke up to rain, had breakfast in the rain, left to go boating in the rain, and got to our put in spot in the rain - it continually rained all day. After a fun day sightseeing (in the rain), we packed up and headed for sunnier climes  (eventually found in Ringwood!) Never the less, a great break and would recommend it for a club trip even though it is a long way down to Falmouth from Ringwood approx 4hrs.

Karl & Trish H

I'm still waiting for the text, but here are a few photo's to be getting on with (courtesy of Barry)

   Click on any to see a full screen piccy.

I read the signs "Tiredness can kill, Take a Break' as I approached Watford Gap services. I had been up since 5am, charging up the M1 for a quick meet, and then back down again. I was tired… I did need a break .. but Watford Gap?. I just happened to have a boat on the rack and gear in the boot, Northampton was a few miles down the road and so, therefore, was the new Nene Whitewater Centre.

The Nene Whitewater Centre, situated on the SE fringe of Northampton, boasts the UK's first pumped artificial whitewater course. Three pumps control the discharge of water down the 300 metre course. It is open 7 days a week, generally with rafting in the morning and canoe/kayaking from noon to 8pm.

The centre is floodlit, and has warm changing rooms, hot showers and vending machines. There are occasions when the course is booked exclusively by groups, and it is best to phone before traveling. on 01604 634040.

Anyway, I stripped off my suit and tie, donned paddling kit and paid £5.00 for my bib - number 149. The other 148 hadn't turned up and I had the course all to myself for an hours paddle break.

For 300 metres, they have managed to cram in a large number of small 'river' features by constricting flows in the drops between 5 pools. Concrete and plastic has been used to produce small stoppers for side surfing, pour overs, squirt eddy lines and even a splat 'rock'. The largest drop provides a plume of water and a defined stopper that will hold boats sideways, provides a looping pool and, reportedly, is excellent for cartwheels in small boats.

While nothing approaches the size of 'The Muncher' at Nottingham, the course easily entertained me for an hour - and there was no one there to witness my hopeless attempts at 'radical moves'. It's probably not worth the two hour drive for a special trip, but it is well worth a visit if you happen to be on the M1, with a boat on the roof and an hour to kill and it is certainly more refreshing than Watford Gap.

Rollalot

Compared to the flotilla of 38 that made the trip last year, this year proved a quiet trip with a select few (13) making the annual jaunt from Longford to Downton.

There was non of the usual faffing around at the Bull, the shuttle was done at such incredible speed as the Chairman went all-out to break 'on-water-time' records, rushing off in the wrong direction with many lost souls following. However, he recovered well (years of practice) and, having deposited the boats at the put in, the drivers speeded off to the get-out (losing Simon's wife along the way).

Despite all this haste we didn't, if fact, get on the water much before 10:45. This was to be Simons' first go in a kayak, and the river was up and flowing fast. Consequently, he was faced with a fairly steep learning curve, on which he wobbled dramatically before finally getting the hang of sitting upright and floating.

We were off - and had a lucky break in the weather which gave us a dry and reasonably sunny day. There was Dot and Mike, Elliott and Ben, Margaret, Lisa, Mike S, Garry, and Simon (together with four of the Blands)

Elliott & Ben found an opportunity to strut their stuff in the small weirs. We collected a few footballs on the way (as we always do), saw a few birds, ate a large picnic and chatted our way down the river waiting for the first drama.

There was only one - and it was fairly inevitable, when Simon took one wobble too many - while we chased his boat down the river he was able to contemplate the loss of his mobile and the soaking of his kit - but he took it in good humour .

We won't mention the chairman's embarrassment on the last weir - but well rescued Ben!

Rollalot

Margaret asked me "would you like to come to a dinner and dance on the 4^th December", "yes please" I said . Margaret then added to make it worth your while driving down how about taking part in a 15 mile canoe race on the Stour the day after. What a good idea I said.

So the day of the race dawned and we set off from Bournemouth to Sturminster Newton where the Stour Descent was to start. As we had to book in and then run the car shuttle to Blanford, time was of the essence. All was going well until we realised that a glitch had occurred in the on board navigation computer (alright we missed a turning and went a few miles out of the way). Having corrected the error we then arrived at Stuirminster Newton and looked around for the check in. The check in will open in a few minutes we were told.

It was here that I was introduced Graham D and Karl who were going to paddle the race in an open boat. I also meet Lisa and Mike who were going to paddle the course with Margaret and I. Margaret had told Lisa and Mike that I would look after them as I was a level 3 coach and they seemed happy with this, people from Dorset can be gullible!.

After the introductions were finished, the check in desk opened, it was a bonnet of a car really but you know what I mean. We booked and were given a start time and told that there would be a briefing in 15 minutes. The briefing would end 10 minutes before Margaret and I were due to start. As we still had to run the shuttle, a round trip of over 20 miles, we had to give the briefing a miss.

After completing the shuttle we returned to the start 2 minutes before our start time. We put on the rest of our kit and launched our boats as fast as we could and paddled to the start line. "Number please" said the man on the bridge, we gave our numbers. I expected him to say "you should have been here 15 minutes ago", but all he said was "GO". So off we went, then stopped and waited for Lisa and Mike who started 10 minutes after us, but on time for them.

There had been a lot of rain the week before the race and the Stour was running quite fast and there was a lot of trees that had to be avoided. We came to the first weir, all competitors had the choice of shooting or portaging this weir, it was alright to shoot if you kept the boat straight and we all negotiated it successfully.

It was between the first and second weir that most of the K1s and K2s came past us. It must have been tricky for these boats to manoeuvre around some of the tight bends and the trees. We all did our best to keep out of their way.

The second weir was compulsory shoot. I went and looked at it, went back to the others and said " no problem keep straight and just paddle hard to get through the small stopper". Just to show how easy it was two lads in a open boat then shot it and swam. This didn’t put off our team who all shot it successfully.

We then continued on and on and on to the last weir and even more K1s and K2s passed us. The last weir was a compulsory portage. You climbed out of your canoe performing a sort of reverse abseil this was to get up the 3 foot concrete bank that had a slope of about 45 degrees. The weir marshals said that they had put the rope there for their own convenience, but we all were grateful that they had.

After this third weir there was just over a mile to go to the finish. When we sighted the goal post and boat racks of Brayanstone school we knew it would soon be over. As we crossed the finish line the time keepers said we’ve been told that you all have retired, we said we didn’t know where they got that idea from.

The hardest part of the day was carrying our boats over the muddy playing fields. We all then headed to the pavilion for a hot shower, or so we thought !. I know now why all the other paddlers were in such a hurry, they wanted to get to the shower before the hot water ran out.

I would just like to say how much I enjoyed the days paddling with Ringwood Canoe Club and hope to do it again some day.

I was lucky enough to go to two conferences in Australia in February, so how could I resist extending the visit with a month’s holiday ? Bev was glad of a chance to visit her sister Lynne in Sydney, and Jake and Lee were excited about the prospect of getting to grips with the Australian wildlife.

We managed to fit in just three days of canoeing, there being few places to hire boats, and very little water in the hills, despite it being the wettest summer for 10 years. We camped with Lynne’s family in the Myall lakes national park, which were deserted because of a bad dose of toxic blue green algae. The lakes are about 3 hours drive north of Sydney, and offer miles of interconnecting lakes separated from the coast by a narrow sandy strip of forest.

We had a pleasant day in two canoes and saw a lot of bird life, particularly kingfishers, black swans, and eagles. We also had a spectacular finale when the in-laws capsized a few metres from the shore at the end of the trip. They all had a good dose of algae, and a brief panic when four year old James surfaced out of site under the upturned canoe, but with no ill effects apart from Lynne losing her very expensive sunglasses and her humour.

Our second trip was on the tidal estuary of the Bellinger River in two plastic double kayaks, Bev and Jake in one and Lee and I in the other. They were horrible wide tanks and we only had short kayak paddles so we had to work hard to make the agreed time at our pick up point. The river flows out of the Dorrigo Rainforest national park and across the narrow agricultural coastal plain. It was very pretty and the highlight for the boys was watching the water dragons which ran out of the river and up the bank as we went by. They are lizards up to about half a metre long which run very fast with their bodies high off the ground, looking very prehistoric.

We were told that the Barrington Tops national park was a great place for canoeing so we went there and looked around for boats to hire. One of the few rental companies said the river was too low and their boats would be wrecked, and another said it was far too dangerous for small children. The third was very willing to separate us from our money and took us by Landrover into the hills with a canoe.

The river was low, which was fortunate because in many places the overhanging trees met in the middle quite close above the water. It was fairly steep with a mixture of pebble banks and rocks, and there were lots of tricky bits where the loaded canoe might be a bit of a hand full. Bev and the boys couldn’t walk along the banks because the woods and undergrowth were quite dense, and Bev was a bit paranoid about the snakes, but they had a great time scrambling over the rocks and through the water.

It is certainly a revelation paddling white water in summer temperatures ! I even had to alternate the helmet with the sun hat to get the appropriate protection. For me it was probably the best day of the holiday with no people, great scenery, unbroken sunshine, warm water, and lots of interesting paddling.