Little
is known about the evasive and elusive male sea kayaker. This
sub-species of the more commonly encountered Homo Sapiens frequents
long surf battered beaches and off-shore islands and tends to travel
in small cohorts that are almost exclusively male. Found on all
Australian coastlines from temperate Tasmania to tropical Thursday
Island there remains much mystery about what drives these small bands
of adult males to paddle far from shore in small boats seemingly ill
suited to this purpose.
In early December 2023, I had the opportunity to join one of these
tribes on a pilgrimage from Quarantine Bay south of Eden to
Mallacoota in Victoria. This stretch of coast is the last remaining
unroaded coast in southeast Australia and as such is popular with the
itinerant and often nomadic Homo Kayakus. In order to blend into the
tribe I self-identified as a male for the five days of this trip,
and, as many members of Homo Kayakus donned eye glasses when onshore,
I believe my subterfuge to have been successful. Certainly, I was
accepted into the clan and was able to observe at close quarters
previously undocumented behaviour characteristic of Homo Kayakus.
Day 1: Quarantine Bay to Mowarry
Quarantine Bay is situated deep within Twofold Bay as such is
often sheltered from northerly and southerly winds. Immediately upon
leaving Quarantine Bay and paddling east, a northerly wind became
detectable. Within about 200 metres of leaving the small beach, the
cohort of six paddlers split into two groups, with one group heading
due east to Lookout Point, whilst the other group paddled more or
less directly southeast towards Boyd Tower which is prominent on Red
Point. As an observer, I followed the larger cohort along the
northern shoreline and noted that there was no previous or on water
discussion of splitting the group. This simply happened organically.
At Lookout Point, a 12 to 15 knot northerly wind was blowing and
sea conditions were bouncy. With a tail wind now guaranteed, Homo
Kayakus proceeded to unfurl sails which are fitted to the fronts of
kayaks and the group proceeded to make good time across the mouth of
Twofold Bay towards Red Point and Boyds Tower. Just south of Boyds
Tower, the remaining two members of the tribe were spotted also
paddling south. One particularly tall member of the species,
although possessing a sail, was rarely seen to use this implement and
instead paddled along side the cohort, seemingly having no difficulty
keeping pace with the tribe. The clan soon approached a northerly facing beach and proceeded to
land the kayaks and with surprisingly alacrity a temporary camp was
established.
Day 2: Mowarry to Merrica River
By the second day out it became apparent that Homo Kayakus is well
adapted to the coastal environment and to a great degree their daily
habits follow a diurnal rhythm retiring to their hastily erected but
nonetheless sturdy shelters when darkness falls and emerging at first
light whereupon the shelters are hastily disassembled and stowed,
along with a plethora of other equipment into the small craft that
the sub-species favours.
Early on day two, the group was once again at sea and heading
south in bouncy conditions down this cliff-lined coastline. The lack
of easy landing spots did not deter clan members some of whom paddled
very close into rocky features, a demonstration of either great
prowess with their small craft or an obliviousness to danger. Some
tribal members utilised crude sails but again the tallest member of
the clan opted to paddle without use of ancillary aids perhaps in a
display of dominance.
At Bittangabee Bay, the tribe turned to west and paddled about a
kilometre up a sheltered bay to an easy landing spot where some
nourishment was taken. Much banter accompanied this short break,
possibly a method to promote tribal cohesion. After a short period
on land, the tribe grew restless and were soon back in their craft
and heading south towards Green Cape. One by one, the tribe paddled
and, in some instances, sailed around Green Cape and pulled into the
lee of more steep sandstone cliffs where they grouped up. This
interesting behaviour is rarely witnessed and possibly only occurs
under certain extreme circumstances. Typically, the male Homo
Kayakus is a solitary paddler.
A strong northerly wind was blowing with gusty conditions and a
rapidly building and steep sea. Homo Sapiens might have found these
conditions rather confronting but Homo Kayakus seemed to revel in
them going so far as to unfurl sails again which resulted in the
kayaks reaching extreme speeds across Disaster Bay. So boisterous
were the winds that even Homo Kayakus were forced to lay paddles out
to the sides of their crafts as a preventative to capsize. In an
attempt to blend in and be accepted as one of the tribe, I too
unfurled my sail but found the experience more terrifying than
thrilling and, after one near capsize, I was forced to pull the sail
down for a short time. My observations of the clan were difficult as
we hurtled across Disaster Bay as, once again, the tribe became
heavily fractured with some members far north, others to the south,
and some lagging the main group altogether.
As the tribe proceeded deeper into Disaster Bay, the wind eased
and I was able to swiftly raise my sail. I could only hope that no
other members of the tribe had seen this break with clan customs. At
a deep cleft between surrounding hills, a small beach was visible
and, approaching this beach, the tribe found a large and swiftly
running brown river emanating from the hills to the west. This
allowed easy egress to a long and scenic river gorge. As is clan
custom, despite some tribal members arriving at the river before
others, no members disembarked until the clan had gathered together
again and decided on a location to erect another temporary
encampment. Again, this temporary camp was swiftly erected in a very
pleasant location under large native trees beside the river with
access to fresh running water.
Day 3: Merrica River
Strong southerly winds the following day prevented even Homo
Kayakus from paddling any further south. Instead, tribal members
engaged in their traditional hunting and gathering activities.
Mussels were acquired and fishing lines employed throughout the
course of the day with some clan members trolling a line behind their
craft up and down Merrica River. I was absent a good part of the day
so my observations of Homo Kayakus at rest are necessarily
incomplete. The strain of blending into a group where a
preponderance of the members had bushy facial hair was trying and so
I walked along forest tracks to Newtons Beach relishing the
opportunity to revert to my more usual habitus.
Day 4: Merrica River to Cape Howe
On day 4 the normal diurnal rhythm of Homo Kayakus life had
resumed with the tribe on the water in the early morning. With no
wind and only a one metre swell, the tribe paddled closely along the
cliffs and beaches of this remote coastline revelling in conditions
which allowed close inspection of the many temporary waterfalls
cascading off cliffs, seals resting near rocky reefs, sea caves and
arches, and even sightings of sharks. At Little River, a surf
landing was made on an exposed east facing beach where a channel into
the lagoon behind the beach had opened up. The ease of this landing
prompted the clan to push beyond the usual landing site at Nadgee
Beach which gets some slight protection from southerly swells at the
far south end of the beach, to a small bay immediately north of Cape
Howe.
At Cape Howe, Homo Kayakus
hurled themselves into the surf guarding the beach with little regard
for larger sets of waves. As an observer, I waited out back until
the beach had cleared then paddled in during a lull in larger sets
and the other tribe members generously assisted me and pulled my
kayak up the beach. It seems I had been fully assimilated into the
clan.
Cape Howe is a unique place to
pause when paddling along this coast. Huge sand dunes to the
immediate south mark the border with Victoria where
the Gunundaal ship wreck is found along the inter tidal shoreline.
After heavy rains in Victoria, fresh water pools ideal for swimming
were located among the sand dunes. To the north of Cape Howe Beach,
a large rock platform extends northward for a kilometre while behind
the north end of Cape Howe Beach, Bunyip Hole, normally only a small
tarn was now a large lake.
Another temporary encampment was hastily erected. This time, the
clan dispersed along the length of the beach with some tribe members
camping in tea trees behind the beach while others made shelter on
the sand beach. Overnight, a northerly wind blew up and one
tribesman moved his shelter from the beach to the tea trees. This
demonstrates the ability of Homo Kayakus to react rapidly to changes
in atmospheric conditions.
Day 5: Cape Howe to Mallacoota via Gabo Island
The sound of the surf on the beach was so loud overnight that I
donned ear plugs in order to get some sleep. Next morning, the two
tribesmen camped on the beach had dissembled their camps and packed
their boats even earlier than usual. Normally known for their
tenacious paddling ability and indifference to the hazards of surf
launches, one of the older (and hairier) members of the tribe pointed
out that the surf was becoming more dangerous as the tide dropped.
Very soon, the tribe had packed boats and moved them towards the
surf zone and, in one of their characteristic displays of
practicality and utility, tribal members assisted other clan members
to launch kayaks off the somewhat messy surf on the beach. I noted,
yet again, that under benign conditions, tribal members do spread far
but, when difficulties approach, the clan works together to keep all
members safe.
Once the tribe was at sea, sails were unfurled, except for the
last remaining member to launch who staunchly paddled without a sail.
The tribe resumed the sea journey, turning now to the southwest and
rapidly approaching Gabo Island. The tribe passed between the narrow
gap between Telegraph Point on the mainland and the northern
extension of Gabo Island and paused for a brief stop on the small
sheltered beach in a north facing bay on Gabo Island.
The rest of the journey was
completed under very calm conditions as the wind abated completely
and the seas were glassy and flat. Fresh, brown coloured water from
Mallacoota Lakes had pushed all the way to Gabo Island and at Bastion
Point the boat ramp was closed due to damage caused by recent heavy
rains and flooding.
At Bastion Point, the tribe was
as efficient as ever. Quickly unpacking kayaks, loading gear and
boats onto cars and, as the first drops of rain fell speeding off to
replenish diminished energy reserves at a local cafe. This
may be the first documented account, complete with photographic
evidence, of the nomadic habits of Homo Kayakus. Counter to
previously held suspicions, I found the tribe welcoming and
inclusive. Although given to broad spread whilst paddling under
benign conditions, the tribe nevertheless displayed unusual and
touching concern for tribal members when conditions warranted.
All images courtesy of DB.
