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DSW_2010_–_surf,_sambuca_and,_er,_pole_dancing Dorset_Coast_Sea_Kayak_Camping_weekend Expedition_Kayaks_-_trying_out_some_new_sea_boats Kennet__/_Avon_(Flatwater)_Paddle Jungle_Chill:_Exploring_the_mellow_side_of_kayaking_in_Nepal Ringwood_Canoe_Club_-_Torridge_Trip_2010 Teign_/_Tavy_Weekend_-_February_2010 Pyranha_Dart_Fest_30/31_January Basingstoke_Canal,_January_2010 Poole_Harbour,_3rd_January_2010
September 2010 saw RCC members enjoy their most expensive-ever Devon Surf Weekend. Wallets were emptied and reputations were ruined. What started out as an innocent two days of wave-riding fun rapidly degenerated into an alcohol-fuelled orgy of frenetic pole dancing. Unfortunately, Jake and I missed the last bit because we were safely tucked up in our beds by the time the rest of the RCC reprobates hit the night club. But first, let’s go back to the beginning……. The week’s build-up to DSW 2010 was a climb-down. Excuses for no-shows – all perfectly valid – ranged from illness and broken cam belts through to the need to get the harvest in before the weather changed. In the end, only Rich, Ben, Jake, Martin, Nic, Elliott and I made it down to Ilfracombe. Since I’d originally booked Maplewood House for 14, and had failed to let them know that numbers were fast diminishing, we had to pay full whack. Or rather, RCC did (sorry Treasurer). I guess this sort of established the theme for the weekend: we knew we had sponsors, and were determined not to let them down. Friday night found us all happily ensconced at the George & Dragon in the lower high street by about 9pm. We were even happier a few hours later when we had a lock-in, and finally rolled back to our hostel at about 1am. Following a very leisurely breakfast – hey, there’s our reputation to think of, plus the last thing you need is indigestion on monster surf waves – and a review of webcams using the hostel’s internet facility (a PC on the landing), we headed off to Woolacombe. The surf wasn’t great, but we’re ever an adaptable bunch, and everyone enjoyed hours of fun, with some us swimming and some of us not. Oh, I’m so kind, aren’t I, not naming the shamed? Actually, one was most definitely female, which is a bit of a give-away, another was a fisherman and at least two others were not called Jake, Elliott or Nick. Oh alright, one was called Nick. But that’s only because the seabed mysteriously disappeared just when I needed it most. And I did spend a considerable amount of time trying to roll up – Elliott reckoned at least 20 seconds. At about 12.30, I suggested that we paddled over to Barricane beach for lunch and then went rock-hopping off Morte Point. If you take a close look at the expressions on peoples’ faces in the photo below, you will see that everyone agreed with me and thought that this was a really good idea
After lunch, I was promptly abandoned by the rest of the group, who all paddled back to Woolacombe to continue having fun in the surf. Eventually even Jake had had enough, so together we made the long trawl back up the beach, got changed and went window shopping. Most of us were content just browsing surf shops, looking at clothing and attempting to break surf board simulators, but as usual, Elliott ‘Nothing more for me please’ Gully was dedicating his energy towards finding the world’s biggest pasty. Elliott’s cravings satisfied (for now), tradition demanded that we then all repaired to the Rock Inn at Georgeham, where we spent a convivial hour. Since Nic had decided that after Friday night she was never ever drinking again, she only had cider and a rather suspicious-sounding cocktail. We then all made our way back to Maplewood House – Nic, Elliott and I called in to see Anne and John Redmond at Seagulls en route (who are both fine, by the way) – before going out for a curry. No names (again), and no prizes, but guess who had one dish more that the rest of us? For future reference, the Asian Spice restaurant wouldn’t win any curry contests, and their korma is sickly sweet and mild, but the food’s OK. Ish. Anyway, where else could we go after that, but back to the George & Dragon. We were a quiet and reflective bunch that evening, content to sit back and sip our drinks peacefully, just taking pleasure in each others’ company. And then someone – and because things quickly became rather hazy, I honestly can’t remember who, but the prime suspects are Ben and Rich – suggested that we all needed livening up a bit and that what we really, really needed was a black sambuca each. Not just one black sambuca, but several black sambucas. And not just black sambucas, but white sambucas. And then after the white, because we might have forgotten what the black tasted like and it is very important to remember, another black. And then…… Well, and then we got locked in again. The landlord had decided that he loved us after all. And he’d also decided that what we really, really all needed were miniature Guinesses (black sambuca and Baileys) on the house. This time, I think we left the pub at about 1am.
Normally for RCC that would probably mark the end of an evening. But not this time, oh no; the fun was only just starting. Jake and I headed to bed. Jake because he’d had enough of watching adults get rat-assed (though he claims to have enjoyed it), and me because I was exceptionally proud of the fact that I’d found my own way to my own bed. Then Elliott – who else – announced that he was hungry and might not survive the night unless he had a kebab. The rest of the team (sans Jake and me) decided to accompany him on the basis that, and I quote, “we need some fresh air.” And that was the last I heard of them. Well, until about 4am. Somehow, Jake managed to sleep through their return. Quite how he did this, considering all the giggling and “shush” sounds, is beyond me. But they were very considerate, and didn’t even turn the bedroom light on. Consequently, when Nic kicked over her glass of water in the dark, nobody could find it, though everybody spent a considerable amount of time and effort trying to give her a helping hand. When she eventually returned from the kitchen with a replacement and discovered someone in her bed, she probably didn’t even know that it was Rich. Not that she wasted any time trying to identify the interloper – she simply emptied the contents of her glass over the incumbent form. And then realised that she’d just wet her own bed and stomped off in search of a spare dry one. Eventually a sort of silence sort of reigned. Sunday morning dawned on people. More on some than others. The silence was broken by groans and the funny sound that bed covers make when they’re being pulled over bloodshot eyes. Jake and I were fine, though a bit concerned as to what might have happened to our fellow surfers on the dark streets of Ilfracombe. Oh that we should have worried. Turns out that post kebab, they went to a nightclub called Chinese Whispers – definitely Ilfracombe’s crappiest, according to our hosts – and danced the night away. Expensive whisky, expensive lager and cheap…… Perhaps we’d better draw a veil over the rest. Allegedly it involved pole dancing, with some performers performing more elegantly than others. It’s all to do with the type of footwear, apparently. Rich, Ben, Martin, Elliott and Nic vehemently deny the existence of any photos, though eventually, of course, it’s quite likely that one or two will surface on some sleazy website…… Sunday breakfast was late. Very late. Strangely, appetites – even Elliott’s – seemed to have become smaller overnight. Jake, who was the only one amongst us who could stand the thought of surfing on the net for more than a few seconds, reckoned that every beach webcam was showing much the same scene, so we shambled back to Woolacombe. Then Jake, who also was the only one amongst us who could stand the thought of surfing on the sea, went, er, surfing. On the sea. Martin bravely dragged his kayak to the water’s edge and spent half an hour battling the in-shore breaks before finally admitting defeat. The rest of us? Well, we spent the time cowering behind glass at the beach café, drinking coffee and talking down the surf. Some of us ventured out for a closer look at the sea (things were still a bit hazy), but that’s as far as we went. Climbing into a kayak might have been a step too far. Lee and Harris on body boards joined Jake in the water – Gus had brought 6 people down for the day – so at least he had company, if not kayak surfing buddies. And according to Jake, the surf was even better than on Saturday, but everyone seemed content to take his word for it, without need to participate. It was the quietest journey home from Ilfracombe that I have ever experienced. Nic curled up fast asleep in the back, and Elliott in the front pretending to keep a careful eye on the kerb. Footnote: the Treasurer didn’t quibble about the accommodation costs, but merely enquired about the average cost per wave surfed. Thank God we’d had Jake with us! Since he’d surfed far more waves than the rest of us put together, he was single-handedly responsible for bringing the figure back to something reasonable. And by avoiding taking part in the sambuca tasting session, to say nothing of the night clubbing, he’d almost certainly saved enough money to buy another boat! Roll on DSW 2011! Nick L Aland Archipelago
Read Ros and David's diary of there adventures in the October 2010 issue of Canews Dorset Coast Sea Kayak Camping weekend
We launched down at Ringstead bay, it seemed such a wonderful day, we paddled a mile then back for a while, drove home and put kayaks away. :O) Rich J Steve Sambell Memorial TripLast year four of us set off to paddle from Totnes, down the Dart estuary, around the South coast of Devon and up the Avon estuary to Aveton Giffard. We were frustrated on Sunday by an uninviting seastate and retreated up the Kingsbridge estuary to end our trip there. I had organised the trip in memory of Steve Sambell, one of the main driving forces behind the founding of the club, and who I had paddled with a few times on this route. Last year’s trip from Totnes to Kingsbridge replicated exactly the first camping expedition that Steve, Paul Toynton and I had done. Those trips had been done in general purpose kayaks but now, with all of us in sea kayaks, it should be possible to paddle greater distances, and the planned route therefore was a bit longer than any that Steve had done with us in the 1990s. This year Richard Jennings, Bev and I tried again, with Ben Adams a new recruit to the group. Although Ben has been in the club less than a year, he had been out paddling in the club’s Avocet sea kayak every day that week, and looked strong and confident on the water. We met at Totnes around 7pm and shuttled the cars to Aveton Giffard. It was made easy with a lift back from my parents who live near Totnes, and fell into the trap: “We’ll be in Devon this weekend. Would you like to see us?” We paddled down the estuary to camp at Sandridge Point, a spot that was one of Steve’s favourites, where Bev and I indulged in the luxury of steaks barbecued on the fire. Bev went to bed leaving the boys to drink, chat and gaze at the stars, and we sat up in shorts and T-shirts until the early hours of Saturday. Rich was a bit groggy after only 4 hours snoring but I think my clattering of pots at the fire eased him gently from his beauty sleep. This was unwittingly in the spirit of the memorial paddle, as poor Steve didn’t have a single decent night’s sleep on any of the trips we shared; not through any fault of mine I should add. We had breakfast and were in Dartmouth for a toilet stop before the shops opened. The river mouth was very calm and the sea inviting, so we enjoyed paddling close to the rocks and coves at leisurely pace. As we progressed Southwards along Start Bay the wind became more of a nuisance. It was coming from the South West so we were in the lee and the sea stayed calm, but near the shore it was blowing force 4-5 directly against us. We stopped on the shingle beaches for a morning break and for lunch, and eventually found a calm stretch of coast between Hallsands and Start Point. It was bliss for a mile or so, but we expected to meet the full strength of the South Westerly when we rounded Start Point. We were surprised and very happy to find the sea almost windless and very calm. I don’t think the wind had eased because the sea would have remained quite rough. It seems more likely that the sharp ridge of land was pulling the stronger wind at higher altitude down to sea level on its leeward side, just as a tall building does, causing stronger winds just along the shore of Start Bay. That part of the coast is fantastic, with sharp rocks and jagged ridges, and a few coves that are difficult to access and never busy. We watched a buzzard on a hunting flight just below the cliff top. It stopped abruptly against a ledge on the cliff and another bird dropped off. We couldn’t see if the buzzard had landed on a nest but it took flight without any prey. We realised immediately that the second bird was a peregrine, then another took off and the two of them easily outpaced the buzzard and dived onto it, making contact and driving it away. An amazing sight at quite close range. We could have camped on that stretch of coast but Rich had set his heart on revisiting Sunny Cove in the Kingsbridge estuary, which is just a short walk from a much higher class of toilet than any that the isolated coves could offer. He also would have found it difficult to rest until Prawle Point was behind him. As we approached Prawle it was apparent that the sea was rougher on the other side, and the tidal race off the headland was putting up some visible waves, or overfalls. Rich and Ben were just a few metres ahead of Bev and I, but it is amazing how the gap widens when the one in front is eager to get through the rough stuff, and Bev is the one behind. She slowed right down and obviously didn’t fancy the bigger waves. I could see that it was going to be a long haul against the fast tidal stream, and we’d have to go a long way out to avoid the overfalls. There is a tiny gap in the headland, which you can get through if there’s enough water. It is less than a couple of metres wide at the narrowest point though, so of no use to anything except a kayak. I looked through it for a while and was convinced that it was safe from breaking waves on the other side, so through we went. The tide was rushing through and it wasn’t easy, but all Bev’s years of finding eddies on white water had honed her skills at paddling upstream and we both got through without any trouble. Once on the other side we could see the others paddling hard and going almost nowhere, so we waited in the bay for a while, then paddled into Elender Cove where we went on a mercy errand helping to reunite people in a boat with a faulty engine and one of their party left on the beach. We thought we might stop there for a tea break but the others were still far out to sea and heading across the bay so we carried on to meet them in Sunny Cove. On the beach were a group of youngsters with a plentiful supply of beer and disposable barbecues. We wondered if we’d made the wrong decision on a camp site, but they weren’t noisy at all, and only woke us up when their tents were all blown down by a squall in the night. Next morning saw some impressive swells and breaking seas on the infamous Salcombe bar, but we avoided these and paddled out to Bolt head, where there is a group of rocks offering a choice of routes. I sat in a calm spot in the middle of them, watching the swells breaking over the outer ones and checking for the safest route, while Bev sat a little way back on the estuary side of them shouting “Barry; I’m not going through there”. Richard, meanwhile, had forged ahead between the rocks and gave us the thumbs up as the waves broke each side of him. Ben followed and they were stopping for no one once they were in the bigger waves to seaward. Bev very grudgingly tucked in behind me and we went though the gap which was quite safe, but impossible to see from where she had made her assessment. We regrouped and paddled the few miles of exposed cliffs from Bolt Head to Bolt Tail, without incident but not without a few support strokes each. There seems to be an absence of photographs from that part of the trip. For some reason none of us bothered to get a camera out. The windblown waves were quite small, and the swells were only about 1.5 metres but they were from a different direction to the wind driven waves. The swells were reflected from the cliffs too, so there were three wave systems making a confused sea. As the depth of water varied it was very noticeable what a big effect it had on the swell steepness and height. Once past Bolt Tail it was as if we were on a different ocean, with swells insignificant and no reflected waves from the beaches. We stopped for a well earned coffee break on a beach near Hope Cove, where the water was as flat as on a good day in Christchurch harbour. We had an easy stretch then past some of the best South Devon beaches, to the river Avon. The river mouth is on the surf beach of Bantham and was invisible beyond the breakers. These were huge on the Eastern end of the beach and across the whole width the beach was thronged with body boards, surf boards, paddle boards, kayaks and of course swimmers. Even a couple of beach casting anglers in their midst! We chose the far Western end to go through their ranks, where the surf was tiny and the crowd thinnest. Even then I had to ask one of the surfers where the river mouth was as I still couldn’t see it past the surf. Bev and Ben both caught waves wrong, Ben found support from the bottom but Bev didn’t so she ended up having a short walk to the beach. Rich and Ben were surprised when she said “Now I’m wet I might as well go and play.” They thought she meant in her kayak, but of course she just wanted to go and jump about in the waves, which she did. We re-launched and paddled up the river a short way for lunch out of the wind, and to wait for the tide. We didn’t wait long enough though, and soon ran out of water on the way up the estuary. Patience was the answer, but with lovely scenery around it wasn’t a problem. We were all happy to have covered the planned distance in good time and with (almost) no mishaps. Barry. Open Canoe Association rallyMike W and I booked onto the Open Canoe Association rally held at Wimbleball Lake in North Devon. The weekend included a number of workshops; this was held over the 3 days of the May bank holiday. The star of the weekend was Becky Mason, daughter of the legendary Bill Mason of Song of The Paddle fame.
Mike Worth on the Exeter ship canal There were some 90 participants, all of us camped overlooking the lake, which is man made but very beautiful. We pitched our tents on Friday night and headed straight for the George Inn at Houghton Regis for a meal. It was extremely cold overnight but I've found that if you use a silk liner inside a 2 season sleeping bag, inside a 3 season sleeping bag and have your bivi bag in the tent just in case you should feel cold, we'll I was toasty anyway. There were lots of workshops planned for the 3 days. Mike W and I had booked to paddle from just below Exeter, down the river Exe and join the Exeter canal on a round trip. Predictably it started to rain just as we put in but it didn't come to much. Its a nice paddle down through Topsham village and into the estuary and we had the tide with us. We had to carry the boats about 100 yds to get back onto the canal at Turf locks, there is also a pub there of the same name and so of course we stopped there for lunch. Its a very pleasant paddle on the canal which is a lot wider than most canals that we've been on. Back at the camp site we cooked dinner on Mikes Excellent home made fire box and chatted to other campers. It was interesting walking round the site, seeing other people’s kit. One couple were even baking bread in there dutch oven!. During the day an incident occurred with the camp cooking workshop. Evidently several Kelly Kettles were on the go when one seven year old decided to help her mums kettle boil quicker by putting the bung in. When the pressure built up, it shot up about 9ft int the air scalding one of the kids nearby. 2 air ambulances arrived,1 from Cornwall and 1 from Devon and the child was attended to. Perhaps drilling a hole in the bung would be a safeguard in future. Saturday nights entertainment was held in the barn and featured a band called the "Mangledwurzels" who payed good old Dorset songs, plus there was a heavily subsidised bar. Sunday morning saw cold driving rain and very high winds. We had hoped to take part in the Becky Mason workshop on the lake but his was abandoned due to the adverse weather. Hastily improvised workshops were arranged in the barn. These included, camp luggage / expedition planning / fireboxes and tarps / hammock and knots. We both agreed that it had been a very worthwhile morning. With no improvement in the weather conditions a roast lunch back at the Georg was order of the day. Late on that afternoon Mike took advantage of Mad River being there with a load of demo boats and tried a few out. Sunday night Becky Mason and her husband gave a talk and slide show. When you see the fantastic lakes and rivers they have to paddle in Canada, you can't help feeling just a little bit jealous. Monday proved to be a much better day although still very windy. Mike and paddled to one end of the lake. I found it hard going as usual but Mike made it look easy. We lashed our boats together and Mike unfurled his golfing brolly. Using our paddles as twin rudders, we sailed to the Dam at the far end lake. We walked along the top of the Dam but there wasn’t any water going down the chutes but its still an impressive structure. After a brew we started to paddle back to cam against the headwind. For part of the way the way, the wind became too strong and we had to line the boats. It proved to be a varied and fun day on the lake. After packing up the tents and a late lunch, we headed back to our homes. We both felt that we had got a lot out of the weekend and met some very nice people. Sadly as usual, by the time I got home I couldn’t remember any of the knots but hey, that’s normal!. Dot Right round Wight
About time I made a trip around the Isle of Wight. It’s on the doorstep and it has been on the agenda for a long time, but, somehow I had always found an excuse to enjoy some of the more scenic paddles along the local coast instead. And so I joined Rich H, Chas and Ross one glorious June weekend – setting off on a Friday afternoon for a ‘circumnavigation’. Unfortunately the weekend fell closer to neaps than springs and we were facing Force 3/4 Northerlies. We had also chosen the weekend of the JP Morgan Round the Island sailing race which boasted more than 1,700 entries!
Well, because of one thing and another, we left Keyhaven shortly before slack water and, with an anti-clockwise plan, paddled into the evening up to Grange Farm, against the ebb. We had just managed to pitch the bivvies and walk to the pub before they stopped serving food. The morning gave us one of those crystal clear sparking skies that you only get when the clouds clear after a night of rain. And there was a true spectacle on the horizon – a long string of hundreds of yachts as far as the eye could see.
With 25 kms under our belt – we faced an easy day on Saturday, riding the flood 35kms to Foreland – time for coffee and Carrot Cake at Ventnor too. It was a long camp at Long Ledge (either that, or turn the corner into stiff Northerlies for an alternative exposed site) – we chilled. The VHF blurted “Northerly Force 4/5, occasionally 6, veering West”
True enough – that’s why we had to get up at 3am, to ensure that we were away in time to catch the ebb back to Keyhaven. No worries though – we were in for a ride on the renowned Solent tidal conveyor belt. Rubbish, the conveyor belt was broken for most of the day and we paddled 8 hours non-stop through sloppy seas and annoying wind to cover the 45kms. Getting to Hurst just in time (before the flood through the narrows kicked in)
Good fun, hard work, great company – not to be repeated! Graham B Expedition Kayaks - trying out some new sea boats
A new Lymington based distributor of sea kayaks "Expedition Kayaks" kindly volunteered to join us one Tuesday evening in June - giving us all the opportunity to try out some new boats. Expedition kayaks import and distribute a selection of high spec carbon Kevlar boats from a German designer, together with plastic and glass models from RTM. They brought a good range of boats for us to try (it's a shame that I hadn't checked the tides when arranging a date though - we could have done with a little water to float them.
Ben trying out a 'Hunter'
One of the sleek machines on offer Some models are constructed using a vacuum infusion foam sandwich, with epoxy onto Kevlar/carbon laminates reportedly giving an immensely strong kayak, with an impact loading of around 500 kgs! The 'Stingray' is a full-on expedition boat 5.70 metres long but weighing in (including hatches and fittings) at an amazing 15.5 kg
If you are interested, talk to Dave Pitman at Expedition Kayaks to arrange a test
Graham B Kennet / Avon (Flatwater) Paddle Sunday 25th April
It was a good start to the day, sunshine, a good turn out and persons tipping up at a good time. The canal was flat calm, we launched and a group of us headed down to the top lock to take in the great bridges and architecture and a little warm up. We got back to the put in to find Tom had decided to take the first swim of the day . Luckily Pip had stayed dry. Off we went for a small paddle down to the Dundas Aqueduct. I had prepared well, put the map out, which had all the interesting things to look at on the way, but then left it at home, so my quote of its only 2.5 miles was just slightly out, and soon the whimpers of ‘are we nearly there’ ‘how far’ were heard, by all the adults!! Pulled in at Dundas Wharf for ice cream and coffee and general chit chat of the difference between 4.5 and 2.5 miles, not a lot on a lovely day I say. Mind you Cathy had done a good job getting to grips with going solo, it probably did feel like 4.5 to her. We decided that to continue on to the Avoncliff Aqueduct was not a goer although the knowledge of a pub at the end was a draw, so we funnelled out through the piece of the Somerset Coal Canal and onto the aqueduct to portage the boats down to the Avon. Adrian was saying how much he liked the club boat !!!!!!!!! and decided it was his turn to take a swim and to see what the depth of water was and to give all the coffee drinkers in the café something to look at. He appreciated how light the club boat was as he pulled it out with a few gallons of water in it !!!! Anyway all boats portaged down safe and we started lunch, and it started to rain a bit on and off. We set off down river and the heavens opened, like stair rods, bouncing off the water, it was a fantastic sight. Nick has put some pictures up on the site. Elliot seem to be enjoying himself as he was dressed for sunshine, Debbie was glad she had come down to the river and Maya Jasmin and Marshall were being great considering they were sitting in a boat fast filling with rain water. A bit further and we came to the first weir which was a great muddy portage, blame the rain meself. A nice bit of river to paddle now on down to the Toll bridge and the thought of a drink at the pub alongside the weir. Paul shot the weir, well you cant leave it like that so Nick went Ben and I did. Ritchie declined, he should have, to practice for the rollers of doom. Into the pub a little warm up and then back to the river where a few of us re ran the weir, as it was so user friendly. Onto Bath and the portage round the Bath weir. Its got rollers and its great fun to just give the boats an extra push, all kayakers down safe but canoeists a few wobbles and major brace stokes (eh Dot, it nearly had you ), but for Ritchie it was a swim, as he slid down the rollers he put both arms up and presented his paddle to the Almighty, who declined the offer to grab it, and hold him up straight, so he’s done it, first swim in the open. (should have done the other weir Ritchie) It was good day out for flat-water swimming and the sun was shining at the end, we had had a couple of pit stops, so we had crammed a lot into such a short paddle !! Mike Worth Jungle Chill: Exploring the mellow side of kayaking in Nepal
For a write-up of my recent 'Jungle Chill' trip, please go here And, for photos: Slide Show Graham B Ringwood Canoe Club - Torridge Trip 2010
Dot & Mike, Dave R, Jo and Chris, Nick L, Paul K, Guy and Harris, Bev, Jake & Lee, Mike W, Paul B Disclaimer: Some facts in the following report may be inaccurate due to poor memory, too much beer and some events may have been exaggerated for extra comedy effect! RCC trips are less frequent for me these days since becoming a dad, so I was very much looking forward to this one - especially as I hadn't paddled the Torridge before. The initial weather forecast for the weekend was rain and more rain so I was expecting a wet trip. The drive up to Weare Giffard was wet and misty as expected and I arrived at Sea Lock barn just before 6pm. I had used the street view in Google Maps beforehand to see what the entrance looked like from the road - a very useful tool indeed. I think that without that, I would have easily sailed past the gates! Dave R, Nick and Dot were already at the barn, having stayed there on the Thursday night as well and making a longer weekend of it (and looking nicely chilled!). I received a warm welcome (as always) and a nice cup of tea. We headed down to the Clinton Arms in Frithelstock for our evening meal. There we were joined at various points during the evening by Mike F and Paul K and later on, Bev, Jake, Lee, Guy and Harris. Dave's friend Elizabeth and her family (who run a holiday cottage locally) also joined us. The meal was very enjoyable and there was an enormous amount of chips to be consumed. All those who had the starter as well were soon regretting it! I'm now wondering if the Landlord had inside information about how far we would end up paddling on Sunday and thought we could do with the extra calories!! The plan for Saturday was to put in at Sheepwash Bridge and get out at Hele Bridge - a fairly short trip but the level at Sheepwash was very low on Friday afternoon so we were expecting a slow flow and a bit of a scrape down. After a leisurely breakfast (The RCC only do leisurely breakfasts - especially when Barry isn't around!), and getting cars and boats in the right places, we were on the water at 11.30am. Jo and Chris also joined us at the put-in. The overnight rain had lifted the level higher than we expected, so even though the water was still low, it was easily paddleable. The section down to Hele Bridge is quite narrow and windy - interesting at high levels I would imagine with plenty of trees to avoid. The rain seemed to ease off a little as we headed down and there were no major incidents. Jake, Lee and Harris were determined to find any small waves to play on which were few and far between while the rest of us were happy to enjoy the scenery and a gentle paddle. I did at one point decide to have a little 'play' on a small and innocuous looking stopper, which was fine until I turned side on to it. As it tried to grab me and turn me over, I luckily remembered my tried and tested 'panic recovery technique' which basically consists of an erratic, random sequence of brace strokes combined with frantic knee wobbling until the stopper lets go of my boat! After that, I just stuck to enjoying the scenery!! As we all stopped for lunch and were tucking into our sandwiches, Guy appeared from around the bend looking a little wet. He had bravely decided to practise a roll in a nice looking eddy - but had only successfully completed the first half of the exercise (the capsize part!). He complained about the buoyancy aid being too 'buoyant' and not capsizing him quickly enough. In my view that’s a good thing. The rain held out until we finished lunch but soon after being back on the water, it started to rain again. The run down to Hele Bridge was uneventful and we got there about 2.30ish. Due to such a low level, the banks were extremely muddy and taking the boats out was not straight-forward because of the steep sides. We ended up tying the ends of the boats together and pulling them up from the bank. After much effort and muddiness, we were happily in the pub by 3.00pm.
The events of the weekend nearly took an interesting turn while in the pub. Mike F returned from the gents having picked up a leaflet on the way back. "I think we should cancel tomorrow's paddle and do this instead", I think were his words. He then presented the tourist information leaflet for the 'Gnome Reserve' (not to be confused with the Ideal Gnome Exhibition!). Once everyone had picked themselves off the floor laughing (Mike was still looking serious), the idea was politely dismissed as being ridiculous. However, if it had been 'Smurf Village' or the 'Fairy Gardens' then that would have been have a totally different proposition and we would have cancelled Sunday's paddle.
Is that Mike on the right? Back at the barn, a traditionally great curry was enjoyed by all, thanks to Nick, and a few of us decided to return to the pub to watch the England v France Six Nations match. Mike W, who had only just joined us before dinner, very kindly gave up his whiskey (or did we hide it?) to give us all a lift up to the pub. The match was pretty poor in the end and we tried to convince Nick, who doesn't normally follow rugby, that matches are usually much more entertaining. He wasn't convinced!! We did discover however that Jo was a big fan of Johnny Wilkinson and his odd shaped ball (how did she know?!). We were back at the barn again by 10.30 to find that everyone had gone to bed - must have been all that hard paddling - so we did the same. On the Sunday, and after another leisurely breakfast, the plan was to put in at Hele Bridge again and paddle down to the Puffing Billy Pub near Rothern Bridge. On previous trips, I believe that the usual Sunday paddle is from Beaford Bridge down to Rothern Bridge, which is a much shorter paddle. I think that we all felt guilty for spending so much time in he pub the day before and the longer paddle seemed like a good idea at the time. After a longish shuttle and the awkwardness of getting the boats back in at Hele Bridge, we didn't set off until 11.30. The weather was a great improvement on Saturday and we started off in glorious sunshine. The river soon opened out after a narrow and winding start and it was another very pleasant paddle. We stopped for lunch around 1.30 and Mike W decided to practice his 'punting' technique. Two metres from the bank, he lost his balance and was on the verge of diving face first into 6 inches of water! Laughter and cheering was soon followed by disappointment as he somehow managed to recover and stay in the boat. Setting off again, the realisation started to sink in that we still had a long way to paddle and the clouds were coming over again. After a couple more hours, we were all starting to feel tired and were hoping for the arrival of Lady Palmer weir, which is within a couple of miles of Rothern Bridge. Cries of "are we there yet?" were starting to emerge but Bev just told me to stop whinging and get on with it! ;o) I think Lee was feeling it the most but I think he did amazingly well to keep going until the end. Jake and Harris also did very well and even though they are probably fitter than the rest of us, they were in shorter boats and used up a lot of energy 'playing' on the way down. I noticed at one point that Chris wasn't wearing a buoyancy aid. He explained that the backrest in his boat was broken and the seat was starting to dig into his back after the long paddle. So he had recklessly abandoned safety (ok, so we were only in 1 ft of water) in favour of a comfy seat cushion! We finally arrived at Lady Palmer weir and we all shot it down the centre without any problems. Jo decided to take a more supervisory role and shouted encouragement from the bank as Dave R negotiated the weir safely. Another couple of miles further down was Taddiport weir which again, was negotiated safely by all. Soon we were at Rothern Bridge at and the exit point by the Puffing Billy pub – we were all puffing by then!! Apparently, we had paddled 18.5 miles from Hele Bridge – surely even Barry would be impressed with that? (Ok, maybe not!). Even though tiring and maybe a little long for the Sunday paddle with a late start, it was a lovely river to experience and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Thanks to everyone for a great weekend, especially to Dave R for organising and all those who provided meals. Paul B Walkham February 2010
It was supposed to have rained - indeed, there were severe weather warnings broadcast for Saturday night and sheets of rain fell on the forest - but not the moors :-( Ten of us (from RCC and Avon Valley Explorers) descended on (and down) the Walkham in low conditions - it proved a long and eventful day. The shuttle took an age - principally because, knowing how convoluted the route is to Denham Bridge, we all decided to rely on my SatNav. Perhaps it knew I was driving a landrover, but it insisted that "in 90 meters turn right and navigate off-road" and displayed a route through a farm gate and across a field!. I ignored this and Mrs SatNav calmly informed me "be patient, recalculating" and then looped me around the lanes and back to the farm gate ... "please turn right and navigate off road" We got there in the end - the infamous solicitor was busy brow-beating some other paddlers at Denham Bridge, but we intended to park at the Forestry commission car park a bit further on down a track and so missed the agro. Back at Bedford Bridge, Jacob and Bryn were tasked with briefing the group (part of their GCSE PE assessment!) We eventually got on at 11:00'ish and bumped across too many rocks. It wasn't too long before the river became more channelled and began to entertain us with some twists and turns. I don't recall any swims - but that may be a memory thing! The 'drop and slot' focussed a few minds and was run by most with a variety of outcomes. Pictured above - Glyn, who insisted on running it despite my suggestion that he only had a 5% chance of not swimming. He made it though, thanks to a long reach for an Eskimo rescue I looked at my watch - it was almost 15:30 - over 4 hours and we still hadn't reached the Tavy - we pushed up the pace a bit. It all went pear shaped when we reached the only significant rapid on the Tavy. Ben ran too far left, tripped up on shallow rocks and swam. I was surprised he hadn't rolled but, as I was towing him to shore he explained (reasonably calmly) that he thought he had popped his shoulder. We were standing on the bank, Ben using a weighted rock to see if he could ease it back, when I chanced a glimpse of Glyn floating beside his boat at the bottom of the rapid. By the time I had pulled him in on the end of a throw line Ross had shepherded the others down and we began to examine Ben. His shoulder clearly wasn't where it was supposed to be. Ross's first aid training came in useful again this season, and so did his 'Vet Wrap'. Strapped up, Ross and Ben started to climb out through the wood heading a couple of kms for Hocklake farm. Meanwhile, The rest of us, towing the two empty boats, paddled the 4kms to the get out as fast as the playboats in the party would allow. The intention was to retrieve the vehicles, drive to Hocklake farm, and on to A&E. Fortunately some kind Samaritan picked Ben and Ross up and drove them to us (they arrived shortly after we did). By this stage, Ben's shoulder had almost found it's way back into position and we were able to get him into warm clothes, sling and strap him and drive him home. A little later than planned! Poor Ben won't be paddling any time soon but, fingers crossed, he will get there in the not too distant future Graham B
Teign / Tavy Weekend - February 2010Powder Mills bunkhouse was a good spot to stay, right slap in the middle of the moor:- good for walking (like right out of the back door); cycling (what river leaders do); and, of course, paddling - with access to various rivers. 6 minutes up the road was the Warren House Inn, 3rd highest pub in UK I believe , and was still a traditional pub with 2 open fires. We noshed here and then back to bunkhouse which had a log burner with loads of free logs. Day 1 was cold and so, to warm up, we decided to remove a fallen tree washed down and lying across the river. Luckily we had a carpenter with his saw (how lucky is that !!) - but no use, after working hard it just floated back to where it had started, towing Barry trying to get his crab out. After the big weir we portaged because of the tangle of low trees. Nick swam trying to get in his boat, it’s a big volume boat as well !! Oh well someone has to break the ice so to speak. The Boulder garden could have done with more water but it made it quite technical and interesting. Quite a few pins on the Canadians and a lot of grounding by the kayaks. I think Graham M swam here. I got caught on a rock, Paul Kendall joined me, he went on. Now I got blinded and deafened by the flash cameras and the noise from cheers from Captain Ross River and Sidekick Tim and the rabble when I steeped out into deeper water and did a controlled descent with my boat, the photos lie. Dot and Mike were oblivious to the surroundings as they were still high fiving themselves as they had come down unscathed, so they said. The kayaks all bounced down, you got to wonder why they take the line through rocks, but I suppose it’s a kayak thing. Well done to James who nearly left his paddle on a boulder and then, just as he was leaving it, must have realised he might need it, wild grab, and he continued on down. On down to Fingles Bridge, if you followed Ritchie and Glen you could always get a pre warn of rocks !! Simon demonstrated a bow entrapment on the sluice, too much Summer lightning in the front of that canoe and got pulled out by Barry. Lunch at Fingles Bridge , Nick left us ,we had put a car here for this situation and then we had a good steady paddle to the take out at Step Mills, where Paul put me in a position of no return on the weir and I bounced down it backwards.Yeah that was a panic look on my face, I think Glen ran it though didn’t see him, but he was at the bottom with me !!( its borrowed Paul ) A good day out but cold, we stopped back at the Warren House for a pint and to warm up. River Leader Ross and Tim joined us complaining of aching legs, after their bike ride, but a brush up on the map reading skills needed as when the little brown lines get close together it means steep!! Next morning it was down to 6 paddlers and the rest walking. Paddlers to the Tavy which was very low. We bumped and scraped but eventually found water and then we had a really nice day. I think we all swam that day especially on one obstacle after Barry showed us how to, Glen lost his paddle which we were lucky to find as the poggies were sticking up. James walked it, a sound decision after watching everyone swim ! The last good obstacle was a vertical weir, which I think we would have all portaged had it not been for Paul’s lack of concentration as he disappeared backwards over it and gave us the thumbs up. Interesting drop. James gave us a nasty moment when he got caught sideways under it but with a push he managed to get away from the pull . At the end Barry demonstrated that he didn’t really feel the cold and the rhyme "if you go down to the woods today , you are sure of a big surprise’ has all sorts of meanings. It was a great day out, scenery is great down the Tavy, it could have done with more water but it was a great day. There are pictures about hopefully someone will post them up. Thanks to Graham M for a good chilli and Barry for cooking the breakfasts. I had a great time, roll on the Barle. Cheers Mike Worth Pyranha Dart Fest 30/31 JanuaryAt the end of January we had the opportunity for more rope-work practice – but not in anger. Six of us attended the Pyranha ‘Dart Fest’ weekend. Bit of a fiasco really.
It was a cold and dry weekend and so we headed off to the East Lyn on Saturday (which normally still goes at low conditions). But the gauge was ‘red’ and, being responsible paddlers and aware of the hard-won 365 day access arrangement recently put in place, we elected to be good. A long drive across the moors to Dartmeet meant we didn’t put on a river until 2:30pm. It was a bony run and no rain was forecast. We made the decision to cut our losses and head for home Sunday morning. Since there was no intention of paddling the following day we left our wet kit in the back of the frozen landrover and headed for the Sawmill bar for consolation. The evenings entertainment was good – a mix of slide shows, lots of chat and drink. It was the drink that was to blame – at sometime that evening I have hazy memories of arranging for our group to join Rob Yates for some rope training. The following morning both the weather and my reception was decidedly frosty. The others (Elliott, Ross, Chas, Rich and Jake) didn’t recollect agreeing to the rope training and couldn’t believe that I was suggesting they clamber into iced kit to tramp down and along a bony river to tie knots with numb fingers. As it panned out, we all agreed that it was a good call and we all learnt something – except, perhaps, Elliott and Jake, who had elected to stay in dry clothes and act as bank participants, and, having walked up the other bank to join in, never found us! And we all got a free T-Shirt :-) Graham BBasingstoke Canal, January 2010We had an amazing turnout of 20 people and a dog; not bad for a freezing cold day at the end of January, and venue over 50 miles from Ringwood. At Odiham wharf the canal had about 6mm of unbroken ice on it, and this stretched for the first few hundred metres, giving us some unusual paddling noises and some drastic wear and tear on the poor wooden Canadian paddles. We had a good proportion of novice paddlers and the group quickly got strung out with the faster paddlers going about twice the speed of the slowest. I had hoped for a lunch break near a pub after about 8km but, having waited for the tail enders and then caught up again with the leaders, we found half of them in a pub much sooner than that. It was 12 o’clock so I took the opportunity to light the barbecue and we feasted on sausages, bacon and eggs. Mike Worth did us proud with loads of eggs and bacon, and he brought a big gas burner and a frying pan, but finished up with egg on his face when he found the gas canister empty. No problem though, we had plenty of heat. For some the distance was enough and they chose to paddle back on full stomachs. The other half of the group continued on to Crookham, then turned and headed back at their own speed to make a full day of it. The canal wasn’t at its best, with not a flower to be seen, but the weather was calm and dry so the paddling was lovely. We didn’t come across any more ice, perhaps because there is a bit more flow on the canal east of Odiham, and the water was very clear. The anglers said it was too clear, and some of the locals said they had never seen it so clear. Perhaps it had been undisturbed for a few weeks. There obviously hadn’t been any big boat movements for a while because we came across trees that had fallen across the full width of the canal. It wasn’t a great wildlife day, although we saw several big shoals of fish in the clear water, and Bev and I spent a few minutes face to face with a huge fox. Perhaps its coat was fluffed up against the cold to make it look big. I find the cold weather always has the same effect on Dot – the extra five fluffy layers make her look twice her real size. Top marks to Bex who was brave enough to go afloat with toddler Lily and lively Tod. I would never have dared take any of my kids afloat on such a cold day. What if ……? I teased Lucy for turning up in her new dry suit – to paddle a canal! She kept assuring us all that she was lovely and warm and dry anyway. In fact Bev nearly got her to test it at the start when she ‘helped’ her to seal launch off the high bank and almost tipped her upside down into the ice covered basin. We finished the day with no problems that I was aware of, apart from a few cold toes, and thanks to all who made the long drive for a fun day out. Barry. Poole Harbour, 3rd January 2010For the first event on the club calendar for 2010 the weather was clear and bright, but the temperature probably didn’t rise above 5 degrees and the fresh North Easterly made it feel colder.
Twelve kayakers turned out though, and we had a great paddle from Sandbanks, along the southern shore of Brownsea Island, round Furzey and Green Islands and back to the shelter of Brownsea for lunch. The difference between the exposed areas and those in the lee of the islands was amazing, and lunch was very pleasant on our beach in the sunshine. We had to get back to Sandbanks somehow though, and all routes involved a fair bit of exposed water and headwind. Most of the group were comfortable in sea kayaks but two were in slow white water boats which put plenty of spray in your face in a head wind and short waves. Most of us opted to head straight into the wind and make for the shelter of the mainland at Salterns Marina, then we hugged the coast back to the cars at Sandbanks, enjoying calm water all the way.
Fortunately we had enough gloves or paddle mitts to go round, because I don’t think anyone would have stayed the course without. The trip was quite short and uneventful, but long enough for most of the group in those conditions and an excellent start to the year. Barry. On the same cold frosty January morning another seven RCC members gathered together somewhere on the forest to practice their rope work.
Ross, having recently completed his AWWS&R course was keen to share some new found knowledge, and we all learnt something on the day – and had a lot of fun in the process. This had come about from a discussion on the new RCC Forum. An opportunity to practice and share rope work skills that proved a valuable experience. Coffee and Christmas Cake restored circulation during the ‘debrief’ at Appletree We will be repeating this later in the year (hopefully, when warm fingers allow more dexterous knot tying!)
Can you identify the above system? And what knots were used at A to D. If you don’t know your Z-drag from your Pig Rig and are still struggling with your prussic loops come along to the next rope session. Graham B |
