The regular Sunday paddles were interrupted by a weekend gathering at Honeymoon Bay on the Beecroft Peninsula. It was a small group, only 10 paddlers and the forecast weather was reasonable, but not completely conducive to paddling into the caves that tunnel deep into the sandstone cliffs of the two major peninsulas on either side of Jervis Bay.
I am one of those tedious goal oriented individuals who always arrives with a goal and a multiple stage plan to arrive at that goal. So, I arrived at the Friday night "lets talk about the plans for tomorrow" session with a clear objective: find someone, anyone, who wanted to paddle south to Bowen Island on Saturday, and, on Sunday, when the swell was forecast to drop from two metres to one metre, paddle the iconic circuit of Beecroft Peninsula which is, or should be, on every sea kayakers to do list.
Well, the talk went round and round and, in an ironic twist which would later become absurd, half the group voted to do the Beecroft circuit on Saturday so they would not have a long paddle on the same day they had to drive home. Somehow, overnight, the half of the group that pushed for the Saturday circuit had changed their minds and decided they were not coming anyway, so the only people left to paddle the circuit were the people who wanted to paddle the circuit on Sunday!
That is possibly how I managed to convince the circuit group to paddle south from Honeymoon Bay to Bowen Island in the full knowledge that we would have to paddle back across Jervis Bay against a headwind. Since starting the Sunday paddles, I have discovered that the people who claim to enjoy paddling into a headwind are few, and the people who actually regularly paddle into a headwind are even fewer.
In my view, paddling into a headwind is analogous to riding your mountain bike uphill, skiing uphill in the backcountry, or walking uphill to climb a mountain. It is simply part of the experience. a part which is increasingly being jettisoned in favour of bike shuttles, helicopters, chair lifts, and, in the case of sea kayaking, car shuttles.
Yeah, I get it, I sound old and crusty. First, I am old and crusty, but second, and more important, if you go out adventuring into the outdoors, sometimes things do not go as planned and you have to ride, walk or ski uphill, or, paddle into the wind. If this is something you never practice, when the moment arrives you may not be capable. Third, I philosophically believe that our lives are enriched by doing hard things. The temptation to eat doughnuts and sit on our butts consuming mindless "content" is strong and manipulated by companies that make money when we do so, but all those things are neither good for our soul nor our bodies.
Six of us left Honeymoon Bay about 8.40 am, heading south along the coast to Dark Point before crossing the mouth of Jervis Bay to the north side of Bowen Island. Bombora Rock was breaking and there was a moderate northwesterly wind blowing. The group was strung out, with some further east than others. The westerly was blowing us slightly east, so I set a course that would bring me to the northern tip of Bowen Island, a good regroup stop that was relatively sheltered. I often think sea kayaking is like backcountry skiing. Before you cross defined avalanche zones, you should group up, assess weather, snow conditions and your group before committing to moving further away from safety. The same goes for sea kayaking, before leaving the shelter of a bay, have a quick check in to make sure conditions, weather and the group are good to go.
At the northern end of Bowen Island, R elected to paddle on the relatively sheltered western side straight to Murrays Beach to wait while the rest of us paddled down the east side of Bowen Island to some big caves near the Devils Elbow. Last time I paddled past Bowen Island, we slipped in between the gap between the Island and the adjacent headland thus I had never seen the east side of Bowen Island.
It was as spectacular as I expected with big sandstone cliffs off-set by incredibly clear turquoise water. We had a look at some big caves near Devils Elbow before paddling back into the wind to the northern end of the island and around to Murrays Beach. It would have been nice to paddle all the way south to Steamers Beach but even I, who enjoys paddling into the wind, thought that was pushing commitment too far. A battle with a headwind across an otherwise sheltered bay is a different proposition to a long haul up an exposed cliff lined coastline with no prospect of landing.
On Murrays Beach, the talk was all about what to do with the rest of the day. It was only around 11 am so in my mind at least, way too early to head back on such a glorious day. I was happy enough to go along with what other people wanted to do as my goal of seeing the east side of Bowen Island had been achieved. We seemed to decide to paddle around the south side of Jervis Bay, possibly as far as Plantation Point where we would have a shorter beam on crossing back to Honeymoon Bay.
Off we went, some paddling along the shore, some straight-lining it between points. The beaches are pretty, fairly empty, and there are some sandstone outcrops but, after the splendour of the outer coast it all feels a bit tame. Somewhere near Captains Beach and the Naval College I was beginning to feel that lunch should be taken. It had been a long while since breakfast.
Very abruptly, R and N decided they were going back to Honeymoon Bay now, right now. The rest of us were surprised. It was only about noon, it was unlikely the wind would get any stronger, and, we were in a position around the Bay where we would have the longest crossing directly into the northeasterly wind. I was quite happy to do the paddle, but did want a break before what could turn out to be a three hour crossing.
The rest of us landed and sought shelter from the wind behind some sand dunes for lunch, and, more important for me, a cup of tea. We were all a bit gob-smacked by the quick, and I thought, rash, decision to head back without any rest, food or water. Although, R and N had assured us they had food handy in their boats, I could not see how they could stop to eat without getting blown backwards, and, it was only midday.
In hindsight, I don't think we should have let them go alone. But, it was a tricky situation. None of us had eaten since breakfast many hours ago, and we all needed a leg stretch, food and water before the paddle back. R, however, could not be convinced to take even the shortest break and, if we had all paddled off impetuously perhaps more of us would have got into difficulty.
But, I am getting ahead of the story. After our lunch, we plotted a route back that would have us paddling pretty much due northeast into the wind, aiming to arrive on the far shore perhaps a kilometre from Honeymoon Bay. If we paddled directly into the wind we would not have to worry about working out how far we were being blown off course and, aiming off to get a beam wind was not really an option.
And, it was just a steady pull into the wind. A and N were far faster than Doug and I, but I just focused on keeping a good stroke and plugging on. In this kind of moderate headwind, I find the paddle is more a mental than a physical game as you can start to feel that you are making no progress at all. However, as with most things in life, consistency is key, and slowly we were half way, then two thirds, and finally the last few hundred metres into shore. The last bit was easy because, even though we were still into the wind, there was no wind chop just flat water and something to look at and measure progress.
When we got back, we expected to find the other two enjoying afternoon tea and were dismayed to find that they had not yet got back to camp. Apparently, they had made it to Silica Cove, about three kilometres south of Honeymoon Bay and had landed there. They planned to leave their boats overnight and walk back. A whole crew of people, including a couple of strong paddlers, offered to walk down and retrieve their boats, as I would have done, but R and N refused and arrived back at camp looking a wee bit shattered about an hour later.
Not a bad outcome, but also not a great outcome. I think it always wise to have a little bit of mojo left in the tank so that you are not completely flogged at the denouement of your adventure. Had the distance been a bit further or the wind and chop a bit bigger and stronger, the situation might have been a bit more perilous.
After the event, when I had time to think about it, I realised that I had been one of the "people with agendas." When I used to lead mountaineering trips back in Canada, I was always leery of the people with agendas who signed up to join one of my trips. A friend of mine, who used to guide professionally, had originally warned me about the "people with agendas." In mountaineering circles, these folks typically signed up for a trip not just to climb the mountain, but also to prove they were faster, fitter, stronger, than other people on the trip. People with agendas were often a bit of a handful as their physical ability far outstripped their technical skills and mountain savvy and, if they got to the front of the group, they would lead the party into dangerous terrain.
My agenda was different. I am not the fittest, fastest or strongest in my paddling circle and pretending otherwise would be ludicrous. I am, however, determined to be fit enough for my sports that I have a reasonable reserve left at the end of every trip and I believe in doing uncomfortable things, like paddling into the wind. So, my agenda was quite simply to paddle into the wind in a relatively safe environment because paddling into the wind is something we should all be doing regularly.
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