Frome October 2001

France (ed's Hols!)

Falmouth Trip: Easter Bank Holiday (Despite Foot & Mouth)

Arun ‘Camping’ Trip June 2001.

Tamar Weekend 03/02/01

Hamble 23/01/01

Poole Harbour: 02/01/2000

This is the first time the club has paddled the Frome in October – and probably the last!

It had rained all week and it rained on the day, but the river was far too low – every weir was virtually dry, the zoom flume was a ripple and the eddy lines at Langham Farm were very weak – clearly the Frome needs a full season to fill up.

However – the 10 of us who made the trip had a good paddle (Dot, Mike, Vicky, Karl, Alex, Pete, Helen, Mark, Andrew and self). The day started in the Little Chef as normal – and, as usual, Helen (who was hopelessly lost somewhere in Wiltshire) had to be ‘talked in’ over mobile phones – eventually waved in as she rocketed along the A36 past 9 waving paddlers at the road side.

It’s less than ½ mile to the first wear – and this represented the extent of Mark’s paddle. He had brought a very flimsy Roto bat and the plastic proved too thin for the first drop – snapping off 8" of the bow. We left him traipsing across fields back to his car while we proceeded to the next dry weir, and the next, and the next.

Langham Farm (Hole in the wall) proved very gentle – but we stopped and played as much as we could before trying (and miserably failing) to find a sheltered spot for lunch. We tried a pillbox – but only Karl could cope with the dark and stench, the rest suffered soggy crisps and luke warm coffee in the gales and driving rain.

The weir at Farleigh was bone dry – so we proceeded along the channel which took us to the back of the mill. The owner explained that, owing to a drainage problem, he had kept the sluices open – resulting in the dry weir. We walked our boats through his property and played for a short while at the mill stopper – which was still powerful enough to hold boats.

We lost Alex a little further along – he shot a dry weir into a culvert that took him into a lady’s back garden – and ended up walking out to the bridge and clambering back down to join us on the Frome

Eventually arriving at Iford I couldn’t understand why everyone thought it had been a good day - I thought only I enjoyed days like this.

Vicky (pictured) and Andrew (both 14) both paddled really well – for Vicky, this was her first trip – it was a long, hard paddle with little current and plenty of boat hauling, but she soldiered on with a permanent happy smile and shot the steep weir drops with ‘gusto’.

Over the last three or four years we have taken our summer hols in France - and these have always included a few days paddling the French rivers including the Dordogne, Ardeche, Ciron, Dronne, Chassezac, Lot and Aveyron.

 While we always travel with a couple of kayaks, with 6 of us, these need to be supplemented with the hire of boats. It's very easy to hire boats (and all the kit) wherever you see a sign for "Location Canoe/Kayak". We normally opt for the typical unsinkable plastic Rotomod canoes that seat 2 or 3 - but have hired more traditional 'old towns' and 'sit-on-tops'. At a cost of between £25 and £40 we get two boats, all the kit, (including large watertight drums for baguettes and beer) and a shuttle service which includes the transport of our own kayaks - for a full days paddling in the sun.

Confined to the school hols, some river sections are very crowded - the Ardeche, for example, is a real circus with fleets of yellow and pink plastic canoes (most manned by complete novices) floating (often up-side-down) in a constant stream of chaos. However, if you select your river section carefully you can end up with the river to yourself.

Last year we were in Aveyron and the Upper Lot - a river that is dam controlled and therefore allows for some good grade 2+ paddling even in the August school hols. We spent 4 separate days on the river - and when we got the dam releases right, the river filled as fast as the Treweryn and gave levels that were comparable with the Dart, with plenty of play waves, (but at 30⁰C a much more enjoyable experience! - have you ever felt like diving in to cool down on a Dart trip!). There’s a great play hole at Estaing (used for French Freestyle competitions) – Finny was catapulted a good 6’ off the boat when we went down this on sit-on-tops. At Entraygues, 15 minutes from our Gite, I found another play wave that I could enjoy all to myself, especially for early morning sessions before breakfast.

This year (2001) we were staying 50 miles further East and tried the river Aveyron – which offered great scenery, plenty of chutes, a slalom course, and some pleasant grade 2 paddling.

If you are off to France for your hols – there seems to be plenty of paddling opportunities almost everywhere – and you don’t have to have any kit with you – take advantage.

Incidentally, Pete Knowles (Aka ‘Slime’) hopes to publish his guide to family canoe trips in Southern France early next year (2002)

Tim and I set off on Thursday morning looking forward to the prospect of some paddling, and four days away from it all. We tried not to listen to weather forecast on the way down as it didn’t sound that inspiring. The journey took about 5 hours in all, not too bad considering we towed a caravan and there was plenty of traffic.

On arrival in the vicinity of our campsite we came across Helen & Mike S driving around, Yes, You’ve guessed it, LOST!

After a trip around the block and lots of peering at the map managed to find campsite. Got the caravan stuck in the gateway, luckily there was already enough Canoe Club manpower on site to push us in. I was beginning to wonder whether it had been worth all the hassle of bringing the caravan down but soon changed my mind when bedtime arrived.

Barry and Bev were busy erecting the taj mahal, Helen and Mike arrived with us despite leaving two hours earlier!!? Dot and Mike were already well settled in. Karl and Trish were due later that night bringing with them the essential toilet tent.

The weather wasn't wonderful on Friday morning, the Deakins along with Mike S decided that the Eden Project was a better option than paddling (wise move).

The rest of us undaunted launched from Restronguet beach and set off into the estuary, rounded the first bend and found strong winds and lashing waves washing over the decks!!! OK so I’m exaggerating a bit!! But Tim and I found it quite tough going in the Canadian which we hadn't paddled since the last Arundel trip. We turned up the next creek to the sanctuary of flatter water and explored as far as we could. Now there was not a Pub up this creek so we decided to paddle on round to Flushing. Again a bit of a stuggle but spurred on by the thought of beverage consumption. Unfortunately on arrival we were informed by the pub’s landlord that we only had fifteen minutes to drink as much as we could!! It was a dirty job but somebody had to do it!!

Then a quick trip over to Falmouth for a mooch around the shops, but the weather was closing in so we had to start the trip back. This was a bit of a slog, Tim did lots of moaning but we eventually arrived back bringing up the rear. I don’t know how Karl and Trish moved so fast!!

We all headed down the local pub that night for some fine food and more ale, and returned to camp site for a sing song, anyone not joining in was kept awake! Colin and his nephew arrived that evening with their double kayak.

Next morning was an early start to catch the tide. Headed up to Truro for the put in, and had a leisurely days paddle down to Restronguet beach, stopping for lunch opposite several huge ships in the process of being scrapped, this was a pretty unusual site on the river. A very pleasant day and non of the struggle of the day before.

That night we lit the usual RCC camp fire for us to burn our dinners on, this turned into another rowdy session. Tim and Helen provided the entertainment with a medley of songs that nobody knew the words to! (A song book is in the pipeline).

It was decided to take it easy on Sunday (hangovers and weather). We all disappeared off visiting the local area. Packing up on the Sunday evening the sun suddenly appeared so we all took the opportunity to walk to the Pandora Inn on the banks of the estuary. A lovely evening and a nice end to the weekend.

Thanks to Dot and Mike for organising the trip. Lisa

Arun ‘Camping’ Trip June 2001.

Well, one of us (yes, OK, me) stayed at a B & B but then two couples stayed in Mod. Delux camper van/caravans – so only Karl and Trish, Paul k and Ros (for one night only!) were the truly hard ones. I got so cold just sitting out until 11.00 pm on the Friday night, I was glad to get the heating on in the car as I drove the 5 mins. To my snug, warm bed.

Anyway, enough preamble – 9 of us paddled. In addition to those mentioned above were Dot and Mike (thanks again Dot for making the arrangements), and Lisa and Tim. There was NO rain! Given the forecast, we were so lucky. Apart from Ros, everyone arrived by 8.30 pm so drink soon flowed and we had plenty of chat. Tim was kept busy trying to arrange for there to be light!!

For those who haven’t been on this trip and who are able to take odd days off work, it is well worth having part of Friday to visit Arundel – there is a super bird sanctuary; Arundel Park (free) has a large lake and walks into woodland; the castle is well worth a visit too.

Due to tide times we were not to start the Saturday shuttle until 11.00 am so I had time to park at West Beach and spend an hour walking along the huge expanse of beach. It was a super morning – people were bathing (one elderly man discarding his trunks to do so!). Karl wonders if evening surfing might be a possible addition to this trip? Apparently Saturday evening saw 6’ waves approaching the mouth of the Arun (according to the fishing people staying at my B&B).

Saturday’s shuttle was to Greatham Bridge – we thought Mike had gone on ahead and got worried when 15 mins. Later he had not arrived. No, he was drinking tea, oblivious to the fact all the other drivers had gone! About an hour’s paddling and then first stop was The Black Rabbit. (Why don’t they make the get-outs more ‘older paddler’ friendly?). Next stop was the Houghton Tea Rooms – again, thank heavens we always seem to have some strong, flexible, young people with us to give a much needed, and appreciated, helping hand. Here Tim tucked into a full blown meal of chilli, rice and garlic bread; Mike ate his treacle tart without waiting for the savoury starter to arrive; and Lisa resisted the treacle tart only to regret it for the rest of the weekend.

Forgot to recount how Paul managed to lure Tim through the reeds – at one time never to be seen again ("I got stuck" was his plaintive cry). A number of us were nursing injuries and the ibuprofen was doing the rounds.

Saturday night was spent in the pub – ‘Never’, I hear you cry: but, yes, we forced ourselves to stay there until closing time. Most just had a main course, which was more than ample, but three of us (3 little piggies?) had sponge puddings for afters. Tim and Karl started winding each other up – Royal v Merchant Navy but, oops sorry, I can’t remember who supported which or (is it my imagination?) did it keep changing? I don’t know what happened after closing time ‘cos I went back to my cosy bed.

Sunday posed a bit of a problem as high tide was late so, to do the Arun from Pulborough would mean a very late get out and drive home. The alternative was to do a 1^st paddle from Bosham. Ros and I opted for Bosham and, as we were both ready to go, became the advance party to recce the place. Dot, Mike, Karl and Trish arrived an hour later, having left Lisa, Tim and Paul trying to decide whether to do a little paddle at Pulborough or just sit in the sun at the camp site. (N.B. they did a tour of the castle)

The ‘fit’ ones put in at Bosham 12.30 ish and paddled towards the harbour entrance (and a yacht race which finished timely before we got to them), then turned left (sorry this is not very technical!) in search of a pub. The one Dot knew of turned out to be a bit too far (return journey against the tide) so we turned back to an alternative which proved very successful. By the time we got back to Bosham (approaching 4.00 pm) the tide was up to the foot of the road to the car park, so a short carry was all that was needed. The car park was £2 for 4 hours (£3 all day) – the reason for mentioning this is that a club day trip to the area was proposed. It took me an hour and a quarter to get back to Bournemouth, so this seems feasible; and looking at the traffic going East, I was glad to be heading West.

The traditional 'Tamar weekend' had to be cancelled this year (through lack of interest). However, this didn't stop 9 of us making a long day trip of it. (Elliott, Ben, Ros, Sue, Vic, Viv, a couple of friends of vic + myself).

The weather wasn't up to much and we didn't get onto the water until close to mid day - but things just got better (or more interesting - depending on ones perspective).

We had decided to try the full 22k run from Greyfriars to Gunnislake. A tad optimistic considering the late start and the fact that Ben was paddling a poor excuse for a proper boat. The levels were reasonable - with a good flow rate that would help. It did mean, however, that we would have to sacrifice some play time at that top hole just below the get in.

With this in mind - we paddled fast down to this first play spot to get the maximum time here before the eddy crowd got bored. The hole was in great shape - big, bouncy and friendly. Ben (who had avoided this last year) was throwing some pretty impressive stunts with his Disco this year.

We were beginning to warm up and get the feel of this site - and were even contemplating spending the day here instead of travelling on down. The Chairman had other plans - sensing the probability of this outcome (and a consequent split amongst the party) he threw thoughts of self preservation aside and fearlessly hurled himself into a full 'groin spin'. This involved endering in the hole, ejecting from boat, swimming to the edge of the weir down stream to ensure a perfect pirouette on the pelvic bone off the rocks at the lip of the weir. It achieved the outcome he sought - dragging Ben and I downstream, away from the play hole, (and beyond the point where it was feasible to return to the hole) to chase his boat and paddles and rescue the Chairman's dignity.

Dignity restored we bimbled down the river to the next weir, and the one after that, and the one after that. All the weirs on the Tamar are remarkably similar - all with a chute in the centre, at the bottom of which is, variously, a wave, friendly hole or awkward stopper. Each in turn provided some play potential - but none matched the quality of that first hole which we, so sadly, had had to abandon in it's prime.

We stopped for a cold lunch somewhere around half way and were looking forward to the 'boulder garden' on the second stretch. I had never paddled the second stretch - but those that had, the previous year, attested to the quality of the white water!. On this day, however, most of the features were washed out (including the boulder garden), and we arrived at Gunnislake with no further dramas or entertainment, at gone 4pm. By this time Elliott was groaning and growling - but no one would take him up on his offer to 'feel the swelling' at his groin.

We packed up perhaps a little too hastily, cramming the boats onto to few cars with miles of strap. It was just climbing the hill outside Honiton that we experienced the final drama of the day. Elliott and I were listening to the radio, chatting and whiling away the drive home when Ben (who had been snoring on the back seat) grunted "where's my boat" .. We craned our necks to look for Ben's little Disco but it was clearly missing. Ben said he had heard a thud, Elliott thought a flask had fallen over in the boot, I hadn't heard anything (still the contents of the Tamar in my ears). Ben frantically unbuckled his seat belt and opened the rear door. Elliott pointed out (a little concerned) that we were still motoring and, perhaps, it would be wise to close the door, remain in the car, swallow his panic and wait until the car had pulled over. He did, we turned around, and 100 yards or so down the hill was Ben's Disco, sitting in the middle of the road and, mercifully, avoided by all other traffic. We retrieved the boat, re-affixed it to the rack and commented both on the luck of having noticed the boats absence so quickly and on the boats ability to cartwheel without Ben.

We arrived back late - but it had been a good days paddle, shame we couldn't have made a weekend of it. I hope Debbie was happy with the groin injury.

Poole Harbour: 02/01/2000

13 of us had a pleasant but uneventful first trip of the year in Poole
Harbour on the 2nd, paddling from Sandbanks around the south western side of the harbour in bright sunshine, and then around Brownsea Island in drizzle.

We were under Paul's competent leadership, and he started the new era in an unfamiliar style - as far as I was aware he didn't forget, lose or break
anything. Thanks Paul.

Barry.

Hamble 23/01/01

I had planned to write an article last October, entitled "Life Starts at _____" or "A Weekend of Firsts" (1^st time in a camping barn, sleeping with more than one man, tackling white water, etc.) but the age life started at caught up with me, as did another birthday and then Christmas, and my article didn't get written. In the meantime, also, Graham beat me to it.

However, the Hamble paddle was a 1^st for our newest young member and his life is certainly still at its beginning!

It was a beautiful day and all but 8 members missed a super paddle on the Hamble. The lucky 8 were Barry & Bev, Dot & Mike, Hilary and little Elliott, Lisa and myself. Little Elliott started off well, asking (in all innocence) if Lisa was my daughter ! (just possible Elliott, just possible!). I forgave him and Lisa promised not to call me mum for the rest of the day!

We set off around 10:30 in brilliant sunshine and the bird watching started almost immediately with Lapwing and Cormorant. Elliott soon added Curlew, Egret and Heron. Barry spotted a Kingfisher that was persuaded to perform later in the day for the rest of the group. Bev saw two Mergansers fly past but then decided one was probably a Goosander.

Exploration of inlets broke up the group for a while - there was no stopping Lisa and Dot, deep in conversation, heading for the pub. The tide was so high that the chance of paddling up to Botley Mill could not be missed. While Barry escorted Hilary and Elliott to the pub (he said he was just being chivalrous - nothing to do with the beer), Mike, Bev and I set off for Botley, well worth the extra paddle if you get the chance.

About 2/3rds of the way there I spotted paddlers and called "Canoeists coming towards us" - turned out to be none other than Lisa and Dot.

The Horse and Jockey is a welcoming place with good food and Guinness. Some 1 1/2 hours later, with the sun still shining brightly (in our eyes) we set off for the return trip, Elliott having had his first seal launch. The river was quiet - we met one Canadian canoe and just one mad paddler (female) who almost ploughed into Lisa.

Barry decided to introduce Elliott to tree trunks, playing around in one of the inlets, and also to a spot of 'limbo dancing'. This prompted the comment from Elliott of "your just a big show off!". We paddled gently on, arriving back at around 3:45pm.

We were all happy and fairly dry and both hilary and Elliott could be justly proud of their first long day paddle.

Don't miss it next year!