| Paddlers |
|
| John Christmas |
|
| David Cotgrove |
|
| Clive Joyner |
|
| Hugh de Iongh |
|
| Clive West |
|
It promised to be a little blowy for a
round the Bill trip, which was the scheduled route, so
instead, at the suggestion of John Christmas (the trip
leader), five of us (John, Hugh, David, Clive Joyner and
I) met up at Sandsfoot at 10am in order to make the best
of the day. And a fine day it was too, warm sunshine,
scarcely a breeze to be felt.
The suggestion was to paddle across the harbour to the
south entrance and put our noses outside and see what it
looked like. The forecast was for westerly winds,
increasing before lunch-time, so we had decided against
a paddle out of the north entrance in order to avoid a
wearying slog back, into a head-wind.
Before getting under way, Hugh and I did a quick
practice roll each, just to feel that we had notched up
something. Gives you confidence for the day. The wind
was increasing, or at least the middle of Portland
Harbour is quite exposed, but nothing to be concerned
about. Out of the south entrance and on down the side of
Portland, by no means an unpleasant paddle. It was
getting quite breezy, so we turned around shy of Church
Ope, not a great beach for landing, and headed back to
Balaclava Bay where a short late lunch, coffee break,
call it what you will, was enjoyed. Hot coffee, home
made cakes, a bit of sunshine, can’t be bad.
Clive Joyner peeled off to head back home, to the east
of Portland Harbour, whilst the remaining four of us got
our heads down for a hard four kilometre ferry glide
north west across the harbour. The wind was blowing
quite noticeably. Hugh’s Taran does go well, and looks a
pretty dry ride, whereas my Pilgrim is, to say the
least, a trifle wetter, that is, I am able to confirm
that the water is salty, based on the amount that flew
up and hit me in the face. (Still much prefer the look
of my boat, and in truth I wouldn’t change it.)
Sensibly, considering the conditions we decided to head
west, directly into the wind and skip from shelter to
shelter, along the south side of the harbour. (Trying to
ferry glide across was not really feasible, since the
angle of offset would be nearly due west anyway if we
did not want to end up disappearing out the east or
north entrance.
Believe me, paddling straight into a force 7 is not a
whole bunch of laughs. (OK, that’s the wind speed
recorded on the port’s anemometer, it would have been
less at sea level.) Suffice it to say that after a break
behind the mulberries my kayak decided that it was bored
with being upright and decided to try going upside down.
No worries, I’d practiced my roll, hadn’t I? It didn’t
work, but at least I hung onto my boat and paddle. My
three compatriots did an excellent job of putting me
back in and we dropped in at Castletown. Weighing it up,
we decided the best route would be to continue our plan,
and paddle through the marina (some shelter) and pop
across to the causeway and paddle north in it’s lee, and
then head back to Sandsfoot with the wind behind us,
which we did.
Were we mad, stupid, misguided? No, I don’t think so. We
knew the wind was going to get up, we judged our route
as well as we could within geographical constraints, we
stayed together, and when I took an involuntary swim the
situation was retrieved with a minimum of fuss. What it
did prove was, although the “rescue” was good, it was
not a slick as it could have been. Room for a little
practice there, perhaps. I was wearing a dry suit, with
good layering underneath, so cold was not an issue.
I do not claim to be a brilliant paddler, but I’ve done
a bit. I clearly remember Gordon Brown saying, “Go out,
paddle to find your limits, them come back to me and
we’ll work out how to improve.” Perhaps my limit is
trying to turn my boat into a F7 wind, and I’ve got
plenty of local coaches to choose from!
Consensus was, it was a good day.
