Spey 2006

I got my copy of the Open canoe association magazine through the post but I didn’t get around to reading it till I came back from holiday in July. When I did read it I saw an ad for a trip in October to paddle the Spey in Scotland, led by 2 instructors from Woodlands Outdoor centre, Glasbury on Wye. I phoned to book on but wasn’t to surprised to find that the trip was fully booked. I could have kicked myself for not spotting it earlier.

In September I received a call that there was now a place available due to due to someone having dropped out. The cost of the trip was £275 which included transport (plus Canadian) from Glasbury., a weeks food and accommodation plus instruction.

Those taking part were able to stay at Woodlands on the Saturday night ready for the early start on Sunday. Kevin Jackson and Chris Mosedale our instructors soon had all the boats loaded onto the trailer and we were away shortly after 8.30a.m.

There were 9 of us on the course with varying degrees of paddling experience - from Penny and Philip who were training for their level 3 instructor to Ken who had loads of sailing experience but had never paddled before.

It was a ten and a half hour journey to our very comfortable cottage (8 bedrooms & 4 bathrooms, some cottage!) at Dulnain Bridge which is about 12 miles from Aviemore. Sunday evening was my first taste of Kevin’s fantastic cooking, I knew then that it was going to be a great weeks holiday.

On Monday the put in was at Loch Insh. It was a still clear morning, the surrounding mountains looked beautiful in their autumn colours reflected in the still waters of the lake.

Once on the water Penny very kindly took me under her wing, she had to log up teaching hours to get her next qualification, so I was lucky enough to end up with my own personal instructor. Penny showed me how to do a power stroke which immediately increased my water speed, plus lots of other tips on technique etc.

The Spey starts at Loch Insh and runs 74 miles before reaching the North Sea at Spey Bay. The section we paddled on Monday from Loch Insh to Boat of Garten was 14 miles of grade 1.The Spey is quite wide with lots of fast moving riffles. It was a warm day, the scenery was superb, with all the green and golds of a highland autumn day.

On Tuesday we put in at Granton on Spey missing out approx 12 miles of slow moving water. This 14 mile section to Ballindoch Bridge was faster more constant water. It was noticeably cooler with some scotch mist hanging about so we lost some of the fine views of Monday. Kevin and Chris had us doing lots of break ins / outs and general boat control. Phil took every opportunity to pole, he let me try his cranked paddle which he favoured. It felt very different to my own paddle so I soon handed it back.

We started to see some very good sized salmon jumping. Along the banks we saw many very desirable fishing bothies. Kevin told us that some of the fishing beats command a price of £1000 a day, however it was commented on by all the paddlers that all the fishermen and ghillies we passed all week all either gave a friendly wave or called a pleasant greeting. These guys are paying huge amounts of money to fish and as for the ghillies it was their livelihood but none of them had any problem with canoeists sharing the water with them. What is it that makes the majority of fishermen south of the border so dog in the manger!

Wednesday s paddle was from Ballandauch to Craigellachie, a distance of 13 miles We had an 8.15 start. This section had 2 rapids. The first is Black Boat rapid. We all ran this successfully. It drizzled on and off all day I had forgotten to bring my hat so I borrowed one from Phil. It was a bit too big and kept falling down over my eyes Still the way I paddle that’s probably an asset. The second big rapid is called Knocando you can imagine the fun we had with a name like that. The rapid is quite long and curves round to the right. You had to keep river right all the way as river left there is a small cliff . If you got it wrong the force of the water would push you into it. We all got down without too much bother. As we paddled that afternoon the rain started to set in with a vengeance.

Thursday it was decided to run the same section but to get out just after Knocando. There had been torrential rain overnight and the wind was blowing a hoolie. The river had come up a lot. The force of the water was very noticeable; it was big brown and swirling. Kevin got us to break out just above a right hand bend and told us to ferry across the river to an eddy where he would be waiting for us.

Working as hard as I could I soon realized I was going to miss it. Kevin called to me to go on and break out river right where Chris would be waiting. Try as I might I couldn’t get to Chris either and found myself being swept around the bend. I saw Pamela and joined her in an eddy. My heart was hammering and I felt completely out of my league. When Kevin joined us he told us he had asked us to go for those eddies just to show us what force of water we were dealing with. This was a very different river now. Breakouts became much more must do, you didn’t get a second chance to make an eddy.

When we got to Knocando we broke out above it river right. Kevin told us to ferry over to land and inspect. As Pamela and I got half way across a huge gust of wind swung us around, by the time we got our boats straightened up we had lost valuable ground. We both ended up paddling through some weird boils. It was like trying to paddle through treacle. Then we saw the rapid, oh dear. It looked totally different to the previous day. The only saving grace was that the water had risen so much that there was now an island river right which thankfully meant there was a chicken chute. The downside was that we would have to ferry back across to a small must make eddy. I have never put so much effort into paddling in my life. Every stroke was accompanied by a grunt of effort ( I had always previously thought this was just an affectation used by tennis players at Wimbledon) I made the breakout but my heart was thumping and that wasn’t due only to exertion.

Thank God for that chicken chute. We all got down it without incident and took out just below the rapid. There was a very high and steep hillside with winding steps up to the car park. Kevin and Chris rigged up a pulley system and in no time had all the Canadians hauled up. Then it was back to the cottage for well earned tea and cake. We put the tv. news on only to find a severe weather warning for Scotland and reports of storm damage and floods. Ho hum, why is it that whenever I go on a canoeingcourse my very own rain God makes an appearance. I can see a pattern emerging here.

Friday Craigellacie to Aberlour [Spey Bay]. Kevin promised us an easy ride today. After all the heavy overnight rain the river was full on. We had made an 8a.m. start because of the long shuttle. There wasn’t to be any practice, just running the 17 miles of the river with a stop for lunch.

The was wind up day today. Mary was given a different paddle and couldn’t get on with it. She was told it was because it was a left handed Canadian paddle. Being as Mary normally only paddles kayaks she fell for it completely. Kevin also told her that as a bow paddler when they went into a hole the correct thing to do was put your hands as far forward as she could on the gunnels and throw your weight forward! The water was so fast it was just a case of enjoying the ride with very little effort.

Pamela headed for every hole she could and I followed her through them, great fun. However I saw her heading for a huge hole with Chris and Kevin behind her. When I saw them both peel away I decided that discretion was the better part of valour and did the same thank goodness. I heard Mary shriek as the Canadian disappeared into the hole, only to rear up seemingly vertical on the face of the wave. A lot of bailing ensued.

As we approached the coast the Spey changed character. It was split into many channels by shingle banks. Of the 74 miles of the Spey we had paddled 73¾ without incident, when all hell broke loose. We rounded a bend only to see a bridge which was at a tangent to the river with very large trees forming evil strainers on each stanchion. Chris got into an eddy on river left and called us to follow him while Kevin went on to check it out. Once again I found myself in the grip of several large boils. I realized there was no chance of me making the eddy as I was still heading for the strainers at a rate of knots. I started ferrying, again grunting with the effort. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared, as it seemed that I wasn’t going to clear the strainer. Afterwards Kevin congratulated me on my ferry. I didn’t tell him it w as all down to fear and panic. I got into a small eddy and watched in horror as the 2 following Canadians both hit the strainer. All four paddlers tried to jump into the branches but all including one Canadian were dragged under the strainer by the force of the water. A few seconds later three swimmers appeared downstream but there was no sign of Ken. At last he broke the surface. His foot had been trapped in the branches and he had been held under for quite some time. Kevin and Phil rescued all the swimmers while Chris put his rope and rock climbing skills into practice and climbed down from the bridge to try to free Pamelas boat. Some 20 minutes or so later the other Canadian surfaced from under the strainer and Kevin managed to get it ashore.

While all this was going on the swimmers huddled in the emergency tent to keep warm. Pamela had just had the gunnels of her boat repaired after an argument with some rocks on a Welsh river. Chris eventually freed her boat and brought it over to her and yep, the gunnels were in need of repair again as the force of the pin had creased the boat.

As we set off again to paddle the last ¼ mile we passed a seal pup lying on a shingle bank, it was a nice finish to a great trip.

That night Kevin cooked us haggis with tatties and neeps. Ian put on his highland kilt and we toasted each other with highland whisky. It was a great week by any standard and I hope to do it again.

Dot

Axe December 2006

Here's a photo from Saturday's paddle. Mike capsized on the weir at the start of the trip, after less than 5 minutes on the water. Annie and Marion waited until later in the day before following suit.

Nick

Sub-Mariners on the Tavy

A few of us were lucky enough to catch the middle Tavy at a perfect level on the 3^rd December. The last few times I’ve bothered to check this run out it has either turned out to be flooding through the trees or a bony ditch, but, when the levels are right, it is a great G3+ run

There was even enough water to sub Ross’s Blunt!

Thanks to Martin Linford for these photos

Graham

Usk November 2006

Nick and I have been taking part in this club trip since the first was organised for us in 1990, and it is still a weekend I look forward to and enjoy. The scenery is fantastic, the accommodation is good, there are lots of good pubs, the company is always great, oh yes, and the river can be fun too. Nick is equally keen, well, on the pubs anyway, so to ensure he doesn’t miss out he has organised the trip in recent years, and did a grand job again this time. At the AGM in April he grumbled about lack of commitment from members for the trips, and the result was a fully booked Usk trip by the end of the evening. Unfortunately, most people don’t plan their workload or health six months ahead, and at the last minute several people dropped out. Most had very good excuses, like Becky for example, who claimed she had to stay at home and study, and apparently it was a very productive cake baking session. It’s OK Becky, we understand.

Most people met up for a meal & beers at the Red Lion, and some enjoyed, or endured, the hike back up the hill to Perth-Y-Pia. The weather was fantastic then, and most of the weekend, with clear skies and little wind.

Saturday began with the usual routine of driving to Sennybridge and shuttling cars back to Aberbran. The river was extremely low, the lowest we have ever seen. We decided to paddle it anyway, there being no “plan B”. All were in plastic kayaks except Dave Ratford, who was paddling solo Canadian. I thought he might struggle, and perhaps have to walk it down some of the shingle beds, but he found enough water to float it all the way. The river was almost unrecognisable in some places, where we were paddling in little rock features that are normally submerged. The lack of any power in the river enabled us to paddle the whole route without getting out to inspect the falls, and most people ran all of the drops. 11 year old Jake, on his fourth white water weekend, was a bit nervous and portaged the bigger drops, but made huge improvements over the weekend. Dave was braver and, to my surprise, chose to run one of the early falls, a vertical drop of a metre or so. Unfortunately his open canoe was tipped to one side on the uneven edge of the fall and he didn’t get a support stroke in before the canoe was on its side. My new toy, a waterproof digital camera, was at the ready so he’ll be able to analyse the event at his leisure. Mike Farnden had a similar experience on a bigger fall, and landed on his side at the bottom, but he recovered with a grunt and a good support stroke.

Rocks were everywhere, and there were plenty of bumps, scrapes and pins, but no serious problems or swims. When we got to Aberbran in the early afternoon, I was keen to carry on to Brecon and was eagerly joined by Bev, Ros & Dave. Eagerness for paddling is limited to a select few RCC members though, and there was no persuading the others. The pub was calling. It had been about 14 or 15 years since I had paddled that stretch, so I wanted to remind myself what it was like. The river gave us fairly continuous grade 1 or 2 rapids, until the last flat half mile above the big weir at Brecon, and so quite a fast run despite the low conditions. I had only paddled it in high water so it was not surprising that I didn’t recognise any of it.

All the way, the autumn colours were spectacular, and the water was clear enough to see the river bed. I don’t remember seeing the river that clear before.

Tim met us in my car at Brecon, and we still had time to visit Bev’s favourite shop in Crickhowell, a proper old-fashioned rural department store, not a small version of Debenhams. She was very restrained and we only bought a birthday card and a plastic spatula! The spatula was for Bev but the card was for Paul Kendal, and we celebrated with him, after one of Nick’s superb curries, with a firework display also supplied by Nick.

Everyone was too full of curry to contemplate trudging to the pub. Perhaps we are getting old? No, I would have gone if anyone else had…..We had a good social evening around the woodburner, and it was amazing how much fun you can have with a bowl of custard powder and cold water!

Sunday dawn was clear and bright again, and I popped out to take a photo of the red sky. The hill drew me upwards though, and I found myself some way above Perth-Y-Pia with Paul Toynton. It was fantastic and I wasn’t tempted to hurry back and help Dave to cook the breakfast. Thanks again Dave. At some stage during Saturday evening I must have said that I wanted to paddle from Brecon to Crickhowell the following day, rather than the usual stretch from Talybont to Crickhowell, because the following morning Ros and Dave surprised me by being geared up and ready to go for it. I didn’t really think anyone would be interested. I was equally surprised that some people were planning only to paddle from Talybont to Llangynidr. Hardly worth getting the boat off the roof for I say! Paul Toynton joined Ros, Dave and I, and we said we would catch the others up somewhere on the river, hoping that avoiding the shuttle would give us a good start. It is another stretch I haven’t paddled from many years. In fact I have only done it once. It was less entertaining in paddling terms than the stretch above Brecon, being mainly riffles down shingle beds and flat stretches, but there are lots of braided sections with trees growing on the islands and gravel beds. Plenty of scope there for nasty strainers if there is more water in the river. The wildlife made up for the lack of rapids, with kingfishers, herons, little grebes, green sandpipers (a first sighting for me), buzzards, red kites, a goosander and dozens of dippers. It was wonderful. I half expected to find the rest of our group getting started at Talybont but the stretch from Brecon to Talybont was much longer than I remembered. When we got there it was about mid-day and we were told by another group that they were an hour ahead of us. We paddled on and really enjoyed Mill Falls, which was a playground of small drops, jets and stoppers. Again, there was no need to inspect because there was not enough power in the river to pose any real danger.

We found the rest of our group having a lunch break at Llangynidr bridge. They said they had had an uneventful trip, and they had all decided to continue on to Crickhowell. We started together, but Paul T, Tim Bryan and I soon lost the main group because there were so many waves to play on, and the others seemed to be in more of a hurry than us. Bev and Jake waited for us about half way to Crickhowell, and Jake joined in to play on most of the waves after that. Paul made his usual observations about the lack of group cohesion and safety awareness. We had spare paddles and first aid kits somewhere in the group, but I don’t think those at the front knew if we tail-enders had any. As a club we should make more effort to keep groups together because accidents can happen, even in seemingly sublime conditions, and those out of sight ahead would be of no help. In fact the only mishap of the day was Dot’s, capsizing and cooling off at the very end of the trip in the little stopper below Crickhowell bridge, with plenty of help and rude comments to hand.

It was a great weekend as usual, helped by the weather, but mainly thanks to the good company. Ros did some homework after the trip and said that the distances paddled were:

Sennybridge to Aberbran 5.5 miles

Aberbran to Brecon 4 miles

Brecon to Talybont 7.5 miles

Talybont to Llangynidr 4 miles

Llangynidr to Crickhowell 5.5 miles.

Thanks Ros, and well done for paddling it all in what was probably the slowest boat there, the club’s Attack playboat.

Barry D

Paddling the Cowichan

Hi to you all at Ringwood Canoe Club,

After just over a month of working hard and not climbing into any kind of waterborne vessel during this time I finally got to run the Cowichan River. The river is one of the 3 located within half an hour of where I live. Here is a general description of it from the Warm Rapids website. Pictures and more details can be found on:

http://www.paddleguides.com/rivers/bc/vancouver_island/cowichan/cowichan.html

'Whitewater Kayaking on the Cowichan River is excellent. With consistent flows from November through May, novice and expert kayakers alike can enjoy rapids ranging from class 2 to class 4. Open canoeists can also venture down the Cowichan River as there are several sections to choose from. Canoeing on the Cowichan River has been going on since the Quw’utsun’ people began doing so several hundred years ago!

Innertubing has been a popular summer pastime for Cowichan Valley residents for a long time. Hot summers and medium to low waters make for ideal conditions for those adventurous enough to shoot the rapids. Of course the real adventurers choose to navigate the rapids in kayaks!'

Anyway my day began with a despirate feeling that I MUST go whitewater kayaking. It's November and the rain have been constant for 5 days. Can't work in this weather, but yippee the rivers are filling up. By 10 am I had put in a call to Don and Rose, who run Warm Rapids kayak school and Inn. "What kayaking was happening this weekend or in the near future?" They were guiding a river trip on the Cowichan that day leaving at 11am. I figured it would take me 30 mins to get my kit together and 20 mins to drive there. "Yes, I can be there for 11 (arrived on the dot).

There were just the four of us. Don, Rose, Johnathan (his 6th river trip) and your's truely. The day was a mixture of brushing up on breaking in and out, etc, some nice surf holes (still working on getting on to them with more confidence), on river rolling practice, and then some great rapids. In true style I managed to run the second part of 'Double Whammy' backwards. A wide ride in some big waves, but being used to reverse running places best taken forwards I kept my cool, stayed upright and enjoyed the ride. :)

The last rapid was a nice drop that is best boofed, as I found out as it tried to hold me as I stalled out on landing. A forward lean and a few powerful strokes saw me through and upright with a massive smile on my face.

Just to the side of the drop was a slower pool of water in which 2-3ft long salmon were trying to make their way up stream by jumping up natural rock steps. It was an amasing sight. It would have been easy to pick them out of the water with our hands (not ethical though!)

We were off the river by 4:30, the rain had eased and I was very content with my whitwater fix (till next weekend).

All the best

Georgia

October 2006: Walkham/Tavy

There wasn't much interest in this trip - only 5 of us (Ros, Dave, Ant, Andy and myself). All the others missed a good day.

The levels were low - but the sun was out and it was warm. The first mile was a bump and scrape, but things livened up and we found plenty of entertainment and some nice waves to surf. - and we had the whole river to ourselves (no sign of any other paddlers)

Graham

October 2006: Dart Weekend: Photos from Barry D

September 2006: Photos from Nick L

RCC find some small surf at Woolacombe 23/24th September

Hello from the Dart Estuary weekend 9/10th September

Intermediate white water course at Plas y Brenin AWESOME!!

A 5 day intermediate white water course at Plas y Brenin sounded just the thing to improve my sadly lacking boat handling skills.

I arrived at Plas y Brenin about 8pm the Sunday night to book in. P.B. is the national mountain centre near Betsy Coed in North Wales. Originally an old coaching Inn, the place is a bit of a rabbit warren to find your way around. My room was small but very comfortable.

Monday started with breakfast at 8am. I wasn’t prepared for the fantastic view over the lake and up to the Snowdon Horseshoe that spread before me from the dining room windows. Our briefing was at 9am with 8 of us on the course, most of us from the south. There was one other girl on the course and ages ranged from 20s to 50s. We were split into 2 groups of 4.

There was very little water in any of the local rivers, so we loaded our boats onto the trailer and drove (about an hour) to the river Dee at Langollan, Mile End Mill. Dino Heald had the bad luck to be put in charge of our group, while Simon Colley the chief instructor took the A team upstream to run the Serpents Tail.

Our group spent the morning working on breaking in and out. At Langollan the Dee is a mature river with a good flow of water and lots of features. The weather was fantastic for November, with clear blue sky and a temperature of 15°C. After lunch it was back on to practice ferry gliding and edging the boat. We ran the weir in the afternoon and drove back to P. B. a tired and happy group.

We got back at 5pm the pool session was from 5.30pm to 6.30pm. Dinner was 7pm and we all went to a slide show and lecture at 8pm. The lecture was on crack climbing in Utah. The guy giving the talk asked how many of us were climbers, about four hands went up. After enquiring what course the rest of us were on, he said he wouldn’t be offended if any of us left before the end. It was a fascinating slide show and we all enjoyed it. A swift drink at the bar followed but we all felt we had a very full day and were ready for our beds.

After Tuesdays briefing it was back to the Dee. One of the guys from the A team relocated to our group. We went upstream to a faster flowing section. Dino had a video camera, which he used to film us breaking into the fast flow and break out behind the bridge stanchions. Steve had the first swim of our group, so he bought the beers that evening. That morning we could all feel ourselves improving. At lunchtime, we went into the café in the Mill and played back that morning’s video; we could all see the difference in our paddling in just a few hours. After lunch we concentrated on reading the river and running drops and rapids. I had to roll up after one of the weirs but we were all exultant at our performance.

The drops might only have been grade 2/3 but the drive back to P. B. was defiantly grade 6!!.

After dinner the lecture and slide show was by Pete Catterell our instructor for the next 3 days. Pete was the former G.B. freestyle coach. He showed us some awesome slides if his recent trip to various huge rivers in Uganda. There was some seriously big water, most impressive. After which the gang of 8 retired to the bar.

It had rained heavily all Tuesday night so at last there was water in the rivers. We put in on the river Llugwy. Six of us got out to portage Cobdens Falls, which is grade 4. Two of the A team ran the falls with Pete and Simon. Below the fall there was a group of R.S.P.C.A. Inspectors (who were also staying at P.B.) doing their river rescue skills course. We called down to them from the footbridge above the river that there were kayaks coming down the falls. Several of them came up onto the bridge to watch. One of them on seeing the kayaks running this section commented that thy must be ******* mad!

That afternoon we had to portage around Pont Cyryng Falls. The first 2 drops are grade 5 and the third is grade 6, which has been run, but I think you would have to have a death wish to run it. It was a long portage around and Bridget and I were glad of the help given by Pete and Simon to carry our boats.

The first feature after lunch was a long boulder filled rapid. We eddy hopped all the way down, Pete had us breaking in and out with our eyes closed and we all had to take turns at finding the route and leading the group. Pete even got us to go down one rapid backwards (although I have done this several times in the past I've never done it intentionally before).

The last feature of the day was Forestry Falls, which is grade 3. We all ran it successfully the first time but there were two swimmers on the second run. It was still so warm that I did some rolling practice in the moving water below the falls by the time we got off the river the rain was really hammering down.

That night the people who were doing their mountain leaders course at P.B. had to do night navigation and camp out. By 10pm the wind and rain was truly atrocious but we all felt smug as we sat in the bar looking out at the wild weather.

The amount of rain that had fallen overnight brought all of the local rivers up to an unpaddleable level. The river Llugwy that runs at the back of P.B. had risen an astonishing amount and was within a foot or so of the car park several people took the prudent step of moving their cars to a different part of the car park. The only river we could paddle was in mid Wales - the Afon Mawddach. The put in was at a scenically named place called public toilet falls (known to local kayakers as ****house Falls).

The put in was quite intimidating, straight into rapids above a tricky drop; this claimed a few swimmers immediately. There were some impressive features on this section; although it wasn’t a long paddle it kept us all on our toes. We only stopped for about ½ an our for lunch break but on returning to our boats we were startled to find how much the river had come up in such a short time. We had to push on as the river was rising so quickly we were all aware of the force of the water now. After several rapids we came to a 1km section of boulder filled rapids called the graveyard, only problem was that by now the river was in spate so there was no boulder garden anymore Terry Storry’s Welsh White Water book describes this section in spate as a 1km of grade 4+ very heavy white water. It was no understatement. There was no visible boulder garden it was just 1km of wall to wall stoppers, the force of the water was pretty hairy.

Unable to avoid a large stopper I went over, normally I can roll up in moving water, with no problems but not this time. All I could feel was my back, head, and arms being bashed by submerged boulders. I tried to roll up but I was getting hit repeatedly by so many submerged rocks that it proved impossible. Eventually the paddle was ripped out of my left hand and I couldn’t hold my breath any longer so I popped my deck.

Pete was only a few feet away; he gave me a tow to the bank. There were 2 other swimmers in our group so Pete with the other two P. B. staff went after them to effect a rescue

We were in a gorge like section; it was impossible to make my way along the riverbank so I had to climb up this steep gorge which was overgrown with rhododendrons . Luckily I had held onto my paddle when I swam and I was able to steady myself with it. When I got to the top I headed down stream to try and catch up with my boat. I came to a confluence of the Mawddach and the Wem but I couldn’t cross it to continue my downstream progress due to the flow of the rivers.

Pete soon arrived and I lay across his back deck and he took me downstream to catch up with the others. We were all dead chuffed with ourselves, even the swimmers, in everybody’s terms it was awesome

On Friday due to the ongoing torrential rain there were no rivers runnable in Wales so we went to the north coast of Anglesey and Pete and Simon took the gang of seven surfing. I was going down with a chest infection (which. stopped me paddling for several weeks) so I stood on the beach and watched the rest of the gang having a great time in the surf.

All in all, I had a superb week. The coaching was fantastic, done with great humour and patience. If you want a restful holiday this isn’t it. All the others on the course helped each other out regardless of age or ability. We had a great time in each other’s company and enjoyed each days paddling together. I got to paddle water that I previously wouldn’t have considered paddling in a month of Sundays. All together it was truly awsome111

Dot Tilley

Stormbound Mariners – in July!!

The forecast was ‘iffy’ for this years ‘Dorset Coast Camp’ – but 5 of us needed the sea air. Paul, Richard, Elliott, Tim and I set off from Swanage in sunshine that Saturday. The intention was to paddle to Lulworth, stopping overnight somewhere on route, and using the morning tidal assistance. Despite an early rise, hiccups in navigation and the long shuttle that the plan involved meant that we were not on the water until 11:30

We elected to paddle close in shore which gave us some shelter from a stiffening headwind and afforded us views of the cliffs and wildlife (including Puffins) but also meant that we spent the whole day paddling against wind and tide. We didn’t get to Kimmeridge until 16:30.

Divers at Kimmeridge informed us that the forecast had deteriorated, with the arrival of a F8 gale expected within the next 6 hours. We battled on against growing seas and wind, finally seeking shelter in the bay to the lee of Warbarrow Tout.

Sure enough, the gale hit us overnight – and rising from our wet pits early Sunday morning (woken by the crashing surf) the sea was none too friendly.

Sheltering from the rain and enjoying one of Richards brews we discussed options. It was still blowing F5/6, - we could hang around until the afternoon in the hope that conditions would improve sufficiently to allow our onward journey, or we could attempt an ‘evacuation’. We plumped for the latter and Richard and I set off for the 5 ½ mile walk to Lulworth to retrieve his vehicle. Leaving the others (still in their pits) to pack up.

All went well, and we even managed to persuade a range warden to open the gate at Tyneham to allow us to drive down to the boats.

Good fun

Graham

Poole Harbour BBQ

June 30, 2006

(with apologies to Alan Brownjohn and none at all to William McGonagall)

This year’s Poole Harbour barbeque was not a badly organised event. Still less a well organised event. In fact, this year’s Poole Harbour barbeque was not organised at all.

Even the organiser didn’t know he was the organiser, so he didn’t turn up to organise anything. Which was probably just as well, since in the event, the event proved un-organisable for the night on which it, er, wasn’t organised.

Blissfully unaware of this parlous state of affairs, and blinded totally by the fact that the event had featured on the RCC events lists for what seemed like ages, Deb, Ros and Dave, Sally, Dave R and Nick dutifully turned up at the Rock Gardens car park, Sandbanks, at 7.00pm. Dave R reported that he’d just driven round to the Sandbanks ferry to take a look at the state of the tide, and was somewhat aghast to discover that instead of coming in as expected, which would have helped propel everyone safely through the harbour mouth, it was actually rocketing out at a considerable rate.

Ever the adaptable canoeists, we decided to launch on the inland side of the harbour, to head straight across the main navigation channel and then along the north side of Brownsea Island, and to brace ourselves for a stiff paddle. In the meantime, we confined our attentions to loading beefburgers, barbeque griddles, beer and mosquito repellent into various craft while we waited for all the other RCC members who were undoubtedly about to turn up any minute.

It was while this was going on that Ros happened to mention that she’d overheard a conversation at Sea Scouts the previous evening between one Paul Toynton and one Graham Bland. To paraphrase the conversation, it went something like this. Graham: “Have fun on the barbeque tomorrow night, Paul.” Paul: “What barbeque?” Graham: “The one you’ve been listed as organising for the past 6 months or so.” Paul: “I never agreed to organise any barbeque.” Graham: “But you’re down as organiser.” Paul: “Well, I didn’t know.” Graham: “But it’s featured on the events list for months.” Paul: “Well maybe, but as a matter of principle, I never read the events list.” Graham: silence.

At 7.30pm, the six of us decided that despite the fact that it was a stunningly beautiful evening, maybe no-one else was turning up for the trip after all. Perhaps they’d all had the sense to look at the 2006 tide tables, which would have shown that no-one in their right mind would have organised the event for tonight.

The paddle over to Brownsea wasn’t quite as hard as we had expected. Personally I was knackered, but everyone else seemed fine; even Deb never faltered, despite that fact she had a much shorter boat than the rest of us; I guess all that Salisbury practice must pay off. Rounding the west end of Brownsea we had the usual debate about which island to ~~desecrate~~ honour with our presence, campfire and burgers. Again, as usual, we settled on Green Island, though this year we were somewhat later than previous years, not reaching ~~wet mud~~ dry land until 8.45pm. I think that Green Island was recently sold, so we weren’t too worried about incurring the wrath of the local landowner. And as Ros pointed out, if necessary, we could claim it marked the beginning of our long-overdue protest paddling, or that we were simply exhausted from paddling against the tide and were merely waiting for higher water levels before resuming our voyage. In the event neither of these strategies was needed – no landed gentry hove into view.

If Paul had been there (did I mention that he wasn’t?) he would have been proud of our environmental awareness, ornithological sensitivity and general bonhomie. I happily gathered dry sticks to start the campfire, while Dave R burnished the griddle ready to feed the masses with impeccably cooked beefburgers, sausages, onions, etc. Then the screaming started.

A pair of oyster catchers had very selfishly chosen to make their nest and raise their brood right in the middle of our planned festival site. Obviously our first reaction was to debate the relative merits of spit-roast oyster catcher v Birds Eye beef burgers, but Ros convinced us that we should move further along the jetty and eat Pringles, salad and oatcake, rather than risk lighting a fire. Actually, it was a rather jolly non-barbeque, which perfectly matched the non-eventfulness nature of the whole non-event.

We broke camp at about 10pm and paddled along the south side of Brownsea until we reached Brownsea Castle. At this point we grouped up and prepared to head back across the main navigation channel. Grouping up, it was unanimously agreed, might not ensure safe passage, but at least we’d all die together in a horribly mangled heap under a Truckline ferry or a Sandbanks ferry that had broken its chain links due to the tide that wasn’t supposed to running in that direction and at that rate. Plus, it had the added advantage that the only person who’d have to explain the loss of six RCC members would be the event organiser, who hadn’t participated in the event on the basis that it either didn’t exist or if it did, then he was the last person in the world to know about it.

None of us had a light stick, but several members had had the presence of mind to bring torches, which might or might not have contributed to our safety. In my case, I stuck my torch in my buoyancy aid chest pocket so that the beam shone straight up my left nostril – a sight guaranteed to scare the crap out of the two boy racers on jet skis who were practicing 50mph runs down the channel in the dark.

Despite the fact that the tide was still going out, we arrived back at the Rock Gardens car park at about 11pm.

There are a few points and cautionary notes to spin out from this tale. The first observation is that Ringwood Canoe Club’s policy of not allowing unaccompanied children to paddle, even on ‘tame’ events, is obviously well judged and sound practice; they’d probably all drown within 5 minutes of start if we did.

The second point is that putting events in the club’s event list without first checking whether they’re even remotely practicable is a great idea, which should continue to appeal to the adrenalin junkies amongst us, especially if no-one bothers to check on said practicability prior to the event. The third point is that appointing trip organisers in absentia smacks of sheer brilliance – it dispenses with the need to get anyone to sign up for anything, ever, and enables RCC’s event list to contain something for everyone. Hell, we could even have cross channel away days to Cherbourg in January, departing Sandbanks at 11pm, ready for an early start in the hypermarket the following morning……

But perhaps, just perhaps, we should dispense with tradition on this last point. In my view, if an organiser cannot be appointed when the event is first proposed and discussed, then it probably should not feature on the events list until such a person has been identified and accepted responsibility. Ignoring these points in the future would at best be inconsiderate, and could at worst prove foolhardy.

Caveat emptor!

Nick L

RCC Poole Harbour BBQ: what the burgers might have looked like if we’d managed to cook them

Alps June 2006

3 Ringwood members (Tim, Ross & I) joined 7 from Southbourne CC (Chas, Richard, Graham D, Martin, Gareth, Luther and Mark) for a packed week in the Alps. Travelling overnight we arrived in Briancon at around 1pm on the Saturday - and even managed a paddle that afternoon. We paddled 7 days straight and took in some classic runs (Guil, Durance, Ubaye, Guisane, Clarree, Onde, Gyronde, and the Dora Riparia across the border in Italy)

There were lots of minor epics, mishaps and problems to make the trip amusing but that is for others to recount. An excellent paddling week.

Thanks to Chas for setting it all up

Graham B

(Hopefully someone will put some words together to go with the following pics.)

The Team Onde Claree Chas

Gareth's dented boat Garerth Graham D

Graham B Luther Mark

Martin Richard

Ross

Tim

Isle of Wight 17th June

Blessed with good weather it sounds as though it was a pleasant trip. Nick has supplied a few photos

Julian Butler Memorial Race

The annual event where 90% of club members display their non-competitive spirit was held on a very windy evening on the 20^th June. Six members turned up to paddle the race circuit, most of them very definitely “not racing”, and various others turned up for various reasons. Ros delivered Dave’s boat but had to leave for a meeting, Nick arrived after the start and took over as time keeper but his in his defiant non-competitive stand could not be persuaded to write them down, Paul Toynton, recovering from a knee operation, came for a short paddle, Dot and Mike came for the beer, and Helen came for the start, dithered a little then departed again.

Dave Chadwick, last year’s winner, started first in the slowest boat, an old plastic white water kayak. I started 3 minutes later in a club reflex, with a guest in the race, Peter Bell, Commodore of Highcliffe Sailing Club, in his slalom C1. Elliott Gully, Dave Ratford, Chris Legg and Tom Wreyford, all in sea kayaks, started 7 minutes after that. I had planned the handicaps based on last year’s results, but that race was in calm conditions and the harbour this year was about as rough as it gets with the combination of the strong south westerly wind and high tide giving a long uninterrupted fetch. That favoured the sea kayaks which should be able to maintain a straighter course and be less affected by the short chop. On that basis I added 4 minutes to their planned handicap.

Leaving the slipway at Mudeford, I was immediately drenched with spray and solid water coming over the kayak, and could barely make out the small silhouette of Dave half way across the harbour ahead of us. Without my glasses, and with so much spray, I couldn’t make out the edge of Sandpit Marsh, so I assumed Dave was on course and followed him. With the strong cross wind I barely paddled on the right and really struggled to keep on course. Peter is a very experienced C1 paddler, but rather rusty, and he kept alongside me or just in front all the way to Christchurch. I slipped past Dave as we threaded through the moorings at Christchurch and as Peter chose the right hand arm of the Avon circuit I took the left hoping for a chance advantage. I had a wonderful view of a kingfisher at the top of the Avon circuit and enjoyed the sheltered water, being able to paddle equally on both sides. The gamble paid off and as we met again at the confluence of the Avon streams I was a few lengths ahead of Peter. He is a true competitor though, and soon closed the gap again with some extra effort.

Back in the harbour, with the waves and wind on the quarter, I now could only paddle on the right, and even using sweep strokes with the paddle fully extended, the boat repeatedly went to the right. I had to resort to a stern rudder many times to get back on course, and that doesn’t help forward progress at all. Peter slowly pulled ahead, keeping a much straighter course than me, and finished 1 minute ahead. I was very surprised that none of the sea kayaks passed us. I think it was their non-competitive urges restraining them, because they were actually slower around the course than Peter and I. Perhaps they stopped for a beer in Christchurch?

Being the first club member home, I got the trophy. Perhaps next year someone else should decide the handicaps?

Barry.

	Finish Time minutes	Handicap minutes	Actual Paddling Time minutes
Peter Bell (guest)	56	3	53
Barry Deakin	57	3	54
Dave Chadwick	60	0	60
Tom Wreyford	66	10	56
Elliott Gully	68	10	58
Dave Ratford	75	10	65
Chris Legg	76	10	66

The Competitors:- (Photos from Nick L)

Sea Kayaking the Great Barrier Reef

Friday 30th September 2005.

We collected kayaks from Salty Dogs Sea kayaks in Shute Harbour at 8-30am, got instructions, kit and charts, packed the kayaks, filled water pouches (30 litres) and departed at 9-30am with water and food for 3 days.

Our first objective was White Rock. Several other groups were out kayaking in the same area so we pushed on to get ahead of them. It was peaceful now – no-one in sight. We went on to the north end of Long Island and had a short stop (very short as swarms of silly buzzy flies were being a nuisance) then started crossing to the north end of Henning Island. The tide was against us so it took 2 hours of slogging to cross about 3 miles!

The camp site was amazing, worth all the effort, with stunning views across to Whitsunday Island.

Soon various parrots made themselves obvious – colourful Rainbow Lorikeets and noisy Sulphur Crested Cockatoos perched and squabbled in the trees above us. There were also numerous Swallows and even more numerous ants. The toilets (pits), a pleasant walk through the woods away, were rather smelly, but at least there were toilets.

After pitching the tent we kayaked across to Whitsunday Island to look at the coral there. We didn't stay long as it gets dark very, very quickly – and we wanted to go snorkelling near the camp site. In both places we saw lots of good coral and many fish – including some quite colourful ones.

Saturday 1st October

We set off early in the morning (about 7am) following the edge of Whitsunday Island, stopped briefly at Naris Beach where there were lots of flies again. We went inside Cid Island to Ross Islet (where we saw a turtle) and then from the top end of Cid we crossed to the northern end of South Molle. Once again the tides were wrong and it was hard work. We stopped to snorkel in the bay on North Molle, where it was low tide and very shallow – good for snorkelling but bad for kayaking!. This is a holiday area with a jetty, boats, beach huts etc. and so again we went off in search of seclusion.

We followed the causeway north to the south end of North Molle and came across our camp site at Cockatoo Beach. It was aptly named as there were lots of noisy Sulphur-crested Cockatoos in the forest behind the camp.

We were delighted to discover a pair of Bush Stone Curlew settled on plot 6! They rare and quite stupid, assuming that if they stay still you won't see them. A large black and white butterfly fluttered around and again Rainbow Lorikeet enhanced the scenery

We admired a wonderful sunset, tried not to notice the lights of civilisation on an adjacent island and were complained at by the Stone Curlew who wandered about once it got dark and disapproved of visitors!

Sunday 2nd October

A beautiful warm, sunny morning again, and so the water lured us to go snorkelling before breakfast. Good coral and lots of interesting fish made it well worth while, but quite a good current was taking us out towards the outer reef so we had to be quite alert!

We set off back to the causeway and South Molle. We were getting used to the scenery now and were looking for wildlife. I asked David to find me a turtle – and he did – instantly (much to his surprise). There were lots of birds, including Sooty Oystercatchers, on the causeway.

We went inside Planton Island (saw another turtle) and outside Goat Island, then crossed the few miles directly to White Rock (the tides were good this time). There was a bit of a swell at times, but nothing to cause a problem.

We went snorkelling all round White Rock. Spotted a spiny thing, lots of big multi-coloured fish and some blue and striped ones. One area in particular was very good for fish and coral.

Having plenty of time we went round Shute, Tankred and Repair Islands (we saw more turtles here- but they were under water).

It was now time to return the kayaks, so we went back to Shute Harbour, unloaded boats – then tried (with 100% success) to roll them. David's first effort was a struggle – so he had another go. My first try worked well – so I left it at that.

Having finished our (much too short) sea kayaking trip we loaded the car with our (very salty) selves and kit and went to Airlie Beach to buy nail scissors and washing powder. Next stop Sydney.

Ros White and David Chadwick

“Gone with the Wind” Sea Kayaking Scotland – the ‘Crack of Noon’ Tour

An Idea is hatched

I was seduced by photos and tales of sea kayaking amongst the Scottish Islands – sun-kissed white sand beaches, isolated idyllic camps, frolicking seals and otters. An ideal location for a first sea-kayak holiday. I voiced my intention at the annual RCC video night in January and a group of 10 was established within minutes. It seems I was amongst others that shared the ideal.

Plan A is achieved

Over the following months, poring over maps, charts and trip reports, I settled on the Knoydart / Moidart region. I even went so far as to plan the routes. A base camp at Back of Keppock (near Arisaig), a 3 day circle tour of the Sound of Arisaig / Moidart, a re-supply at base camp, and then a 3 day circle tour of the remote Knoydart area to the Sandaig Islands. All this planning was, of course, to prove a complete waste of time!

Plan A is thwarted

Despite having lived in Scotland (many years ago) I was convinced that the end of May should provide ideal sunny still sea kayaking conditions.

By the 14^th May we had 14-day forecasts for the weather – but these were rubbish, they were suggesting inclement weather

18^th May (10 days to go) “Have you seen the forecast Graham? It doesn’t look good”

20^th May (8 days to go) “Have you seen the forecast Graham? Should we change our plans?”

21^st May (7 Days to go) “Have you seen the forecast Graham? Perhaps we should go up later and all throw ‘sickeys’”

24^th May (4 days to go) “Have you seen the forecast Graham?” “I don’t believe it – we will go anyway”

And we did – some, however, against their better judgement!

The Gathering

We had all found the campsite by Saturday evening – there was Dot and Mike, Dave and Annie, Georgia, Richard, Elliott, Ross and myself – with Frances, Hannah and Finny joining us for a non-paddling week. All agreed that the location was breathtaking. All agreed that the weather was c**p. We adjourned to a pub in Mallaig and talked alternatives over sea-weed beer and fish and chips.

“Force 4 or 5 Northerly, 6 later. Sea state moderate to rough, Heavy Showers”

And so began the pattern of the week. Each morning and evening we would huddle around the VHF (normally in the rain) and listen to the forecast. Then, maps would be brought out, sheltered waters sought and endless plans and alternatives hatched and discussed.

It was difficult to raise enthusiasm in the mornings – lying in the tent (after a sleepless night listening to Elliott and Ross’s snoring) listening to the rain and wind lashing the fly. The renowned RCC ‘get-up-and-go’ attitude !! vanished and ‘Crack of noon’ starts were quickly established as the norm.

Despite all that Neptune hurled at us we managed to paddle every day – and we were rewarded for our efforts with some truly beautiful locations and idyllic camps.

Sunday saw us retreat to the inland Loch Morar for a 16k paddle – finding some sheltered lagoon-like and midge infested bays for lunch before a battle with headwind on the return leg

Monday we ventured into Loch Nan Uamh, paddling amongst seals and finding a great island lunch-stop

Tuesday and Wednesday was the highlight. The winds had dropped and the sun was out. We managed to escape the base camp and make our first ‘journey’ from the head of Loch Ailort almost 40k back to Arisaig. We camped overnight at one of those isolated pristine sandy bays that I had dreamt of. After a camp fire meal we sat on the beach and watched seals, otters and Red Throated divers put on a show for us. The return through the Skerries of Loch Non Ceall proved a beautiful paddle.

Thursday and the wind had again picked up and veered to the West. We found sheltered water and our final camp in Moidart before the long drive home on Friday.

We never reached Knoydart and the Sandaig Islands (that’s saved for another time) – but we had a good week and our battles against the elements were rewarded by glimpses of what sea kayaking in Scotland can be. I fully intend to make an annual pilgrimage to the Scottish Islands. But next time I won’t make any plans – just go with the wind, so to speak.