The Sunday Paddles Or There Goes The Forecast

Back in May, which in Covid time is an eon ago, we paddled north from our house under very calm wind and sea conditions and "found" a couple of big caves that a sea kayaker can paddle right into. Most of the other local paddlers I talked to had never seen or paddled into these caves, so I became quite obsessed with sharing them with the rest of my kayak squad. One similarly calm day, we paddled up with Mike and visited the caves, but since then, the weather conditions on the Sunday paddle day had never really lined up to access the caves.

Looking out of one of the caves we "found"

But finally, a calm day was forecast for Sunday and the cave tour was on. The initial forecast was for light and variable winds and an easterly swell below a metre, absolutely perfect. We could visit the Blue Cave, and then go on to the caves to the north.

In the Blue Cave

A small group was assembled and we met at our local beach around 9.00 am. Of course, in the few days since I had organised the paddle, the forecast had changed. I realise this is a common theme in this blog, and, if you live an outdoor life, it will be a common theme in your life too. As usual, the forecast was just slightly worse than the previous one, with southerly 10 to 15 knot winds, a rising sea state, showers and possible thunder showers, and a rising swell.

Paddling south into the clouds

Already the wind was tickling the water outside our local bay, and a wall of dark and ominous clouds were scooting north along the horizon. A tourist wandered by saying "what a great day for a paddle!" and looked shocked when we all cackled with laughter and said "not with an east coast low coming."

Ominous clouds at sea

So, the plan changed. We would go south instead, returning with the wind behind us and hopefully before the full brunt of rain hit. I was hoping to get at least as far south as Jimmies Island. That would make a return trip of around 20 km and I increasingly feel this distance is the minimum I want to go out for.

An impressive cloud bank

The wind gently increased as we paddled south, the cloud bank, however, increased with great vigour and became a great spreading blotch across the horizon which Margot thought reminiscent of the dementors in a Harry Potter movie.

Running before the wind

At Pretty Point, we all agreed we would go the next two kilometres to Jimmies Island and headed south into a freshening, but still light headwind. And then, one in the group decided that was far enough and he would land at Pretty Point. Number two went with number one, a reasonable decision, and the next time I turned around to check on the group, only Doug was left.

Catching runners

So we all went back and landed at Pretty Point on a tiny beach and had a short break. The cloud continued to build, but the wind dropped. It all started to seem a bit of a storm in a tea cup to me, but we were heading back. At our local beach, I headed north, the weather really seeming quite benign now, and tacked on an extra five kilometres to make it a reasonable morning's paddle.