When I planned this adventure, an attempt to paddle 50 kilometres in a day (read on to see how far we went), there was both anticipation and dread. As the day approached, and I felt every day the fatigue of the long and hard training cycle I have been in, dread came to overtake anticipation. Certainly, when the only other person who expressed interest - besides Doug, my long suffering partner in arms of all these adventures - turned out to be Speedalot Blacklock, the dread deepened. But, I told myself, these things often turn out to be worse in the anticipation than the action.
Not quite a year ago I did 53.5 kilometres self powered which didn't actually feel too bad. I had to be swift at the change-overs, but otherwise I finished the day feeling pleasantly tired not totally thrashed. However, the changing activities, from running to paddling to cycling, allows your body to get into different positions and to use different muscles whereas paddling 50 kilometres locks you into a fairly small space for a fairly long period of time.
When we arrived at our local beach around 7.30 am, Speedalot was already there kitted up and ready to go "You ran a marathon yesterday didn't you?" I asked thinking some pre fatigue of the speed machine would be beneficial for all of us, sadly, the answer was no. Just as we were leaving the beach, Talkalot arrived so we were four, at least for a while. Talkalot could also talk endlessly at Speedalot and distract him from paddling like a demon from the get go.
It was a funny morning, very humid with dense sea fog. So dense we could not even see the Tollgate Islands which are only 4.5 km from our home bay. My map did not have the Tollgate Islands on but I thought I could remember they were south east not due east of our launching bay so we headed out on a compass bearing roughly ESE.
My fall back navigation stance was that if we did not find the islands within 40 minutes of leaving we were off in our direction, but, after about 30 or 35 minutes, the rocky islands started to emerge through the mist. The other give away was the easterly swell began to abate as we got within the lea of the islands.
It was still dense fog, however, and I was guessing again, but a course due north, erring to west of north if anything, should bring us to Three Isle Point within a short period of time. And, soon we could hear waves breaking and then Three Isle Point emerged through the fog and very quickly after that the mist cleared and we settled into the day. Calm winds, a two metre swell and four kayaks heading north.
My plan was to hug the coast as we went north so that we could accumulate a bit over half of the days kilometres before we turned around. Then, if we were lucky and got an afternoon sea breeze, typically a northeasterly here, we could sail/paddle back off shore. When you have a big distance to cover, I always find it better to try to get the bulk of it done in the first half of the day. Psychologically that seems to help.
At Richmond Beach, around the two hour mark, Talkalot decided to return to the Bay, so we landed with him for a brief stretch. I had not eaten yet and felt a bit queasy but was unable to eat more than a few peanuts. Disappointingly, my tracker showed we had only done 13 kilometres. It would have been nice, although physically impossible, to see a 20 on the screen.
Looking at the map, I thought if we followed the coast north fairly closely we should arrive at Depot Beach at over the half way mark. This meant we paddled along the shore of Durras Beach. I don't know anyone who does not find this a bit of a slog. It is only a couple of kilometres longer than a straight bearing from Wasp Head to Point Upright, but something about passing a long sandy beach makes it seem longer.
We passed inside of Grasshopper Island and landed at Depot Beach in a bit of a dumping surf. My tracker was showing just shy of 26 kilometres. Again, a little less than I would have liked. Speedalot was ready for the run home, looking at his watch, no doubt thinking he would be faster on his own - true, so we decided to turn around at Depot Beach. I knew this would put my distance at a little shy of 50 kilometres but thought I could make up the final one to three kilometres in more sheltered waters where the paddling would be easier.
Off we went, setting a straight course down the coast. There was no wind, nothing, even though it was after noon. Gradually, a little wind came up, then a bit more, until finally when we were passing North Head we had a decent 12 knot northeasterly. I had put my sail up at the earliest opportunity having previously decided that using the sail on a 50 kilometre day did not meet my criteria of cheating. These things are all so subjective, we make our own rules as to what constitutes fair play.
Passing Three Isle Point I was knackered, sitting sloppily in the boat like a sack of potatoes, all body tension completely lost. Speedalot was still sprint paddling to catch waves and, although he had brought a sail, he did not deploy it. At Three Isle Point Speedalot sped off while Doug and I paddled into Judges Beach for a last rest.
Just about 21 kilometres on my tracker, still a bit too low as I knew we would only accumulate another five or six kilometres back to our home bay. After a break, we headed back out with a very pleasing tail wind. It would have been easy enough, but breaching the "rules" of my adventure to just sail back as we were probably progressing at over six kilometres an hour. Somehow my rules allowed sails but not sailing without paddling. Go figure. At our home bay I was just too tired to turn around and paddle back out into the wind for 1.5 kilometres to make a round 50 so we called it quits at exactly 47 kilometres.
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