Was it a cut-off low or an east coast low? I don’t know, probably nobody knows. Humans have developed categorical designations for all sorts of things which make us believe we are both precise and accurate when in many instances we are neither. With no precision or accuracy I can say it was wet and then windy followed by wet and windy. My first Rock N Roll (RnR) at Jimmies Beach on the north side of Port Stephens, my first RnR as a trip leader and a wet baptism it was.
The rain started on Friday night and continued all day Saturday, “heavy at times” as the weather man (person) would say. Sunday was mostly dry in the morning but windy – very farking windy - and the rain moved in by afternoon and continued solidly for the next couple of days.
I felt disorganised the entire weekend because our gear was either stuffed in various places trying to keep it merely damp rather than dripping wet or sitting in puddles of rain water. The end result was that I couldn’t find my PLB (Personal Locator Beacon), left my mobile telephone on the coffee table at someone’s house, lost my paddle leash, and misplaced a dozen other items. Additionally, for some reason, I had only brought summer paddling gear with me, despite the horrendous forecast. I was wet as the proverbial drowned cat all weekend and had to keep moving to stay warm.
Nevertheless I fronted up to the leaders breakfast at 7:30 am on Saturday morning. And, had my first experience with “impostor syndrome.” There was a general decision to stay inside the heads and with a strong northerly forecast along with heavy rain, that meant paddling somewhere along the northern shore of Port Stephens. As it turned out, onshore, the wind didn’t amount to much so we could have paddled over to the south side of Port Stephens but it was, if you can excuse the colloquialism, pissing down and a few hour paddle was quite enough.
I teamed up with a sea instructor from Victoria to take a group around Corrie Island. Pleasant enough but it did make me realise that I’m not much of a flat water paddler. I find it a bit boring – my apologies to everyone who loves flat water paddling. I had thought we might be able to eddy hop up Myall River but there are few eddies, the current was stronger than I expected and the persistent rain quickly sapped my enthusiasm.
Sunday the weather was worse, if that is at all possible. Back at the leaders breakfast at 7:30 am and I’ve seldom felt less like paddling! The previous day’s northerly strong wind warning was replaced by a southwesterly gale warning. For the land-lubbers, that equates to wind speeds of 34 to 47 knots, or bloody windy. This is the kind of wind that blows your paddle out of your hand and your kayak across the beach. In sea kayaking texts this is described as “dangerous conditions …. each paddler must look out for himself and rescues impractical [sic].”
How then did I find myself out with a full contingent of paddlers in these conditions? Well, you can blame Mad M. and my inexplicable decision to avoid driving anywhere. Amazingly, we ran seven trips under those wind conditions but all of them, with the exception of mine and Mad M. were either right inshore, in the Myall River, or out of Mungo Brush on a small lake with little fetch. Only Mad M. and myself were mad enough to paddle across Port Stephens in those conditions. Ironically, the reason I teamed up with Mad M. instead of one of the other leaders was because the other trips (that did not involve driving) sounded a bit miserable. As if paddling into the teeth of a gale wouldn’t be miserable? This is proof that even those of us who consider ourselves logical and rational are anything but.
The trip was supposed to include a small number of paddlers with solid rolls and minimum Sea Skills/Grade 3 designation but somehow - and I blame Mad M. for this - we ended up with half of the paddlers either unable to roll or without a reliable roll (which is pretty much the same). When I tried to question the paddlers I did not know, the answer I got from all of them was “I’m a local. I know the area.” “How nice,” I thought, and “how irrelevant. What matters is can you handle the conditions?”
The group spread started right off the beach as half of the paddlers underestimated the force of the wind and had drifted a couple of hundred metres down the beach whilst the stragglers launched. I rounded the group up and got them to “hold position” using a transit while we waited for the late launchers. The last two paddlers were a problem from the get go. One had a brand new paddle and some kind of problem with his rudder set up (henceforth known as Rudder Paddler), and wanted to sit out on the water faffing around with his rudder and foot-pegs. Mad M. told him to “suck it up or go back,” (not exactly those words but that sentiment), so Rudder Paddler returned to the beach. Meanwhile, an older paddler paddling a Zegal with a Greenland stick (henceforth known as Stick Paddler) was falling behind immediately. I stuck with Stick Paddler for a while, but it was clear he was not up to the task. In strong wind, you simply have to be able to paddler faster than the wind blows you backward.
Mad M. and the faster paddlers were quickly streaming away from me and Stick Paddler. My exhortations to him to speed up were useless. I sprinted ahead and caught up with Mad M. and told him I would take Stick Paddler back. Thor – the fastest stick paddler you’ve ever seen - happily agreed to accompany me. Mad M. with barely a pause said “We’ll meet you on the other side.” So Thor and I took Stick Paddler, who was pissed at me, back. Stick Paddler informed me that he would happily paddle over by himself. “In what universe would I leave someone to paddle out into a gale alone?” I wonder.
Stick Paddler had drifted way east by the time we got near the beach, but Thor was more than happy to chase him down and herd him back. Thor is like a giant, friendly Border Collie rounding up sheep or paddlers in this case. As it happened, we dropped Stick Paddler off (with much grumbling and dirty looks at me) and found Rudder Paddler hanging around on the beach and so Thor and I lost one paddler and gained another!
It was a long slow haul over to Fly Point on the south side of Port Stephens as we were against the wind and the tide, and the current rips out of Port Stephens. Coincidentally, RnR happened to be held on a weekend with a very large tidal (and hence current) range. Although our compass direction was SSW, I paddled the entire way across with my kayak pointing due west. Essentially a 5.5 kilometre ferry glide! I copped a few breaking waves over my head so despite the fact it wasn’t actually raining, I was soaked. Rudder Paddler was doing OK, but was a bit slower than me and a lot slower than Thor.
As we neared Fly Point, Thor dashed over to Shoal Bay to see if the rest of the group were waiting for us there, while Rudder Paddler and I plugged into the wind and the current. Near Fly Point in standing waves and maximum current we were barely pulling three kilometres an hour. However, at a small beach near the marina, I was relieved to see kayaks lined up on shore. I had begun to wonder if Thor, Rudder Paddler and I would be on our own. Paddling in wet clothes, I had chafed an open sore under my arm so trotted off to the toilet block to undress and slap some tape on while Rudder Paddler fiddled with his rudder. The wind was building along with the outgoing current. In a strange way this rather unpleasant paddle had been kind of fun, because real fun is actually seldom fun.
Mad M.’s original plan had been to paddle west along the shore to Corlette Point where we would turn and run downwind back to Jimmies Beach. There were a couple of issues with this plan not the least the lack of shelter from wind on the south shore as the wind was blowing very westerly, and, we had missed the current by at least two hours and were now paddling against near maximum flow. Nevertheless, off we went. Mad M. out front and me bringing up the rear. Within a kilometre, in fact, probably a few hundred metres, there was more trouble as Upside Down Paddler was very slow, so slow that at West Point, I could have sworn she was not moving forward at all.
I probably should have put Upside Down Paddler on tow right away but the idea that I would tow someone further into these conditions struck me as somewhat nutty. Additionally, I am uncomfortable putting paddlers on tow when they are not fully incapacitated. As it was, I noted Upside Down Paddler had her paddle upside down. Rectifying this made little difference, so I asked Thor, who had circled back to check on us, to put Upside Down Paddler on tow. With the tow on, Thor shot away like a bullet with Upside Down Paddler hydroplaning behind.
By this time I had begun to think that I was well outside my pay grade. The wind was getting stronger and stronger and our ability to rescue anyone out in the middle of Port Stephens where we would face the full brunt of the wind was questionable. Here we were with at least three people who had no roll and who were struggling in conditions that were much easier than anything we would encounter in the middle of Port Stephens. The thing with paddling into the wind is, that although it is tough physically, it is actually very stable as the bow is well anchored. Turning beam on or downwind is technically much more difficult as the kayak suddenly becomes highly unstable and boat control is challenging.
We pulled into the beach again and had the conversation we should have had before leaving Jimmies Beach. This resulted in a split group. I would take three people back to Little Beach where we could leave two kayaks at Upside Down Paddlers nearby unit and take two kayaks back on a friends vehicle (a huge thank you to Mark who drove over and picked us up). This left five people to complete the downwind run. Those five people were comfortable with the fact that rescue, in the event of a capsize, was likely impossible. I still feel a bit disappointed that I missed out on the downwind run – Doug said it was a hoot – but it was more important to me to make a good decision (admittedly, merely one out of a series of bad decisions) than it was to enjoy a ripping run. I simply felt that my ability to rescue a capsized paddler was very far from guaranteed and I did not think I should be leading a group under those conditions.
As it was, we were back at Little Beach within minutes barely paddling. There was some fun paddling in a tidal rapid around Fly Point, but otherwise comfortable paddling. I tied our two kayaks to the toilet block while we carried the other two kayaks up to the unit as I have had my kayak blown across the beach in that wind strength before. We had time for a quick cup of tea before our pick up arrived.
Monday arrived with more rain, more wind, and an enormous swell and I for one was very happy to pass on anymore paddling.
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